Thirty-five years ago, I lost my only child to abortion.
When I read of the increasing “celebration” of abortion in our world today, I am so grieved that I simply have no words. But then I remember a time when God did give me words, soul-searching words of grief for the child I lost so many years ago.
Below is a psalm-styled poem I wrote while I was in seminary. It is called “A Mother’s Lament” and serves as the introduction to my Bible study, Worthy of Love: A Journey of Hope and Healing After Abortion.
A Mother’s Lament by Shadia Hrichi
I placed her into the hands of wicked men,
behind closed doors, they give birth to death—
for a few coins, her name was stricken;
for an ounce of silver, they blot out her name.
Deceitful women pour out words like honey;
like a serpent, her mouth drips with poison—
both rich and poor drink from her cup,
she shows no favoritism.
Monsters! Daughters are led by the hand as a blind sacrifice,
to a heinous god, they are laid out as an offering;
in the cover of darkness, their children are taken,
before the dawn, their light is remembered no more.
My friends demand laughter,
my mother asks for a smile,
can they not hear?
can they not see?
Within my heart, deathly silence pounds,
behind the teeth is caged a scream,
it is ready to burst like the wails of a woman in labor—
like a mother whose child is stillborn.
“Weeds!” the wicked cry out as the sickle slashes the lilies;
tender violets are trampled and the garden destroyed,
so that no fruit blossoms,
no flower takes root.
I spend my days in masked despair,
in plain sight, I veil empty arms;
shielding my ears from the haunting silence
as vacant cries kick and fret within me.
As frightened deer scatter, my youth quickly fades;
As the morning delivers the moon, my days give birth to years—
until I can no longer discern:
are these my cries, Lord, or yours?
Who will kneel alongside me in the garden,
or climb upon my shoulders and fill my basket?
Who will lead me by the hand when I am gray,
or lay flowers at my grave?
A thousand tithes cannot repay my debt,
ten thousand offerings cannot restore a single breath;
don’t turn your eye from my presence, Oh Lord,
don’t close your ear to my cry.
The godless promise shelter to the abandoned,
they set a snare for those seeking refuge—
the frightened who have no one to take their hand
and lead them to your courts.
Oh Righteous Judge, give the wicked wrath to drink,
may blood blanket the graves of the unrighteous!
May those who say,“There is no God” shudder at the
thunder of your voice,
and tremble at the words of your mouth.
Your decrees are just and your law is perfect.
Cleanse me, Oh Lord, from my sin—
do not blot my name from your book,
do not strike my name with your pen.
You, Oh Lord, are my deliverer;
You, Oh God, are my strength.
With lifted hands, I will praise you to the congregation.
I will speak of your mercy, my God, my Savior.
Finding Hope
If you or someone you love has endured the heartache of abortion, Worthy of Love is an 8-lesson story-driven bible study for post-abortion healing that has helped countless women. We all know someone who needs hope.
Shadia is a passionate Bible teacher, author and speaker who has a heart for seeing lives transformed by the power of God’s Word. She holds a master’s in biblical and theological studies from Western Seminary and is author of several books and Bible studies.
Those who would deny forgiveness to someone who has had or has performed an abortion would also deny forgiveness to the Apostle Paul. I know your work, your calling, is often thankless and you confront many raised eyebrows and insulting words from self righteous persons, but forgiveness and changed lives cannot be gained without someone to minister the love and truth of Jesus Christ to these valuable souls. May God continue to bless your ministry and give you much fruit for your labor. In the love of Jesus Christ our Savior and Lord.
John, your words are a sweet comfort to my soul. Thank you for taking the time to write. You blessed my heart deeply today. May our gracious Lord draw many more wounded souls into His healing arms. For His glory, Shadia
This poem so entails how I feel. I often identify as broken hearted with empty arms and forever regret. A million tithes and hallelujahs cant cover my pain.
Dear ‘Mom,’ Thank you so much for sharing your heart. It is true that a million tithes and hallelujahs cannot cover our sin – only Jesus can do that. Yet, I do pray that, through Him, we can receive His power to heal, even our deepest pain. Praise God that the blood of Jesus is greater than our sin, and His grace, if we are willing to receive it, is greater than our grief. Bless you dear sister. You are in my prayers.