Font Size » + | -All you lovers of God who want to please him, come and listen, and I’ll tell you what he did for me (Psalm 66:16, TPT). By Jessica Francavilla Lately abortion has been all over the news. A frenzy of activity is taking place in government and in the spirit realm as we prepare for the possibility of the roe v. Wade decision to overturn. At the time this article was written, legislation on the state level was being passed for abortion up to and possibly beyond birth, and legislation was being passed to protect babies once a heartbeat is heard. Ever since 1973 our country has built mini-sacrifice centers. The false gods of Molech and Baal have resurfaced as gods of convenience, fear, and money to which sacrifices are made. Over 60 million sacrifices have occurred since Roe v. Wade. I represent three of those 60 million. Our God wants to restore us. He is redemptive, and He sees each one of us. Only through Him can we move past our sins. This is my story of redemption. At 15 years of age I was a tenth grader who was active in clubs and sports. I was creative and loved art and drama. I lived in southern New Hampshire with my father, stepmother, and younger stepsister. While life wasn’t perfect, we certainly represented middle-America in the late 1980s. During high school, it seemed perfectly normal for teens to be sexually active. My friends and I would talk about who had lost their virginity and what it was like. It was a “rite of passage” everyone seemed to be going through. In health classes we learned about the anatomy and contraceptives. Those health classes did not teach us signs to look for to determine if we were pregnant. So while it seemed normal to be sexually active, when I became pregnant at 15 I had no idea. It took my stepmother questioning me and then buying me a pregnancy test to confirm it. The Francavilla family enjoy life to the fullest. Photo by Danielle Desjardins My stepmother and father called my boyfriend’s parents and scheduled a meeting to determine what to do. I now realize our meeting was intended to inform my boyfriend and me that I would be getting an abortion. That didn’t stop us from asking about a nearby girl’s home for unwed pregnant girls or even marriage. Our parents quickly determined that because of our ages, 15 and 16, neither would be an option. They had bought into the lie that abortion was the fastest, safest, and easiest decision. My stepmother took me to the abortion office on the day of the appointment. It was not your “normal” doctor’s office. There was no receptionist, no waiting room – just a room with a bench for me to sit on. Across the hall was another room where they performed the procedure. To this day I’m not sure an actual doctor did the abortion. I remember laying on my side afterwards and weeping softly. After that I remember a heavy fog over my life. I wasn’t allowed to be near my boyfriend or group of friends and stopped participating in school activities. A month later my father and stepmother announced they were having a baby. I was about to have another little sister who would be the same age as my aborted child. What was a 15-year-old girl to do? I didn’t feel as though I was allowed to mourn the loss of my baby. After all, I was told it was just a clump of cells. I couldn’t emotionally rejoice over this new sibling of mine. Depression set in and morphed into a destructive lifestyle of promiscuity, drinking, and drug abuse – anything to escape the reality of my life. I became rebellious and was kicked out of our house after graduating high school. At 18 I found myself living with a controlling, abusive boyfriend and once again pregnant. Abortion seemed like the only answer, certainly the only answer I knew of. I lived a life in the world and of the world. Eventually I was able to extradite myself from that relationship only to find myself in another relationship with an older man from my work. We had a daughter, Alex, together. Her birth was a miracle in itself. You see, I was too far along in my pregnancy to have an abortion at the clinic and was able to convince my boyfriend at the time to allow me to keep her. However, when she was six months old I found myself pregnant yet again. This time he gave me an ultimatum – him or another baby. I was 23 years old with a six-month-old baby living hundreds of miles away from any family or support group. I chose him. We went to Planned Parenthood in Alexandria, Virginia, one of the largest facilities in the nation. After the abortion, I was brought to a large room with cots lining both sides of the walls. The women on the cots were either staring into space or weeping quietly. I remember thinking, “We are all like cattle after the slaughter, left bleeding with parts of us dying.” This was not the painless experience promised us. Only God But all the while God had a plan for redemption. When my daughter was two, her father’s work transferred us again. It was December and snowing when suddenly a college student named Jen who lived three doors away knocked on my door and asked if we wanted to play in the snow. Jen quickly became one of my closest friends. She was constantly inviting me to her church and speaking life into me. Awhile later my daughter’s father and I separated. I was a single mom in my 20s dedicated to my work and grateful for this sweet woman’s friendship while my life was a mess. After Jen got engaged and moved out, God provided another woman to speak into my life. As it turned out, Amber was Jen’s church friend who was also Alex’s teacher. For seven years Amber hosted small Bible groups in her little apartment, and people prayed for a “lost neighbor” three doors down. For seven years I had someone telling me I was desired by a God that I refused to acknowledge. These two women watched me seek out religion. I went to a Unitarian Universalist church; I became a Buddhist; honestly, I was up for anything as long as it didn’t have Jesus. God brought me to the end of myself one week when within seven days I was diagnosed with breast cancer, learned my bank account had been hacked, and discovered my boyfriend of two years had taken a job in Seattle without telling me. When my friend Amber invited me to a Sunday evening church service, I finally agreed. For the first time in my life, at age 28, I heard about a Father who loved me with a love that could not compare to any earthly love. When I finally gave my life to the Lord, I was partnered with someone to disciple me. I had given my life to the Lord, but I didn’t know what it meant to be a child of God, to give every part of my life over to him completely. I met with a woman every week for an hour. We walked through what it means to be saved, what forgiveness looks like, and other topics such as spiritual gifts, prayer, worship, generosity, and evangelism. It took me four months to tell her I had something major to confess. I was petrified of what she would think of me, convinced I wasn’t worthy of her forgiveness or God’s. When I told her that I had had three abortions, I wasn’t ready for the reaction I got. She explained repentance and forgiveness. She explained the cross. She shared with me who I was as a child of the high King. This was the beginning of my healing process. Fifteen years later, this past January, I had the opportunity to attend the March for Life rally and share my testimony on the steps of the Supreme Court. I was with a group called Silent No More Awareness, an organization dedicated to sharing the truth of abortions from post-abortive men and women. It was an inspiring moment. I didn’t know what to expect. I certainly didn’t expect to find my story wasn’t unique. We all shared similar experiences – the depression, the promiscuity, the substance abuse, the horrible relationship decisions. There are very real consequences to abortion. One life is lost and another life is forever scarred. Scarred, but through God’s grace healed. God has redeemed my life. I’m married to my best friend of 11 years. I have four wonderful children ages 7 to 21. I’m a pastor’s wife and homeschooling mom, and I am so grateful. The healing process wasn’t overnight. I can easily stand back and say, “ONLY GOD could have changed my life so significantly.” A Word for the Church I share my story as a post-abortive mother to help shed light on the abortion industry’s lies and to give hope to those who are living in the shadow of their own abortions. One in four American women has had an abortion. These women are in our churches, and many have not received the healing God so desperately wants for them. I encourage the Church to make the topic of abortion a priority. Be honest about the ramifications. Be honest about the over-sexualized culture we live in. If in the 1980s I was being taught that having sex at a young age was normal, imagine what is being taught now. Did you know in many school districts Planned Parenthood personnel are allowed to come talk to children starting in kindergarten? Partner with a local pregnancy resource center. Many of them have post-abortive counseling programs. Be prepared. Let us be homes of healing for these women and a voice of truth to the world. You can watch Jessica share her testimony on the steps of the U.S. Supreme Court here. About the Author Jessica Francavilla is passionate about women’s ministry and deep healing. She has served in ministry for the past 15 years and is married to the love of her life, Bill Francavilla. Together they pastor Relevant Church in Williamsburg, Virginia.