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TITLE: Redemption. A story of post abortion recovery.
By Kristina Newby
06/20/09
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The annual Fall Festival was in full swing. The whole town was abustle with activity and street groups of all sorts. Standing at the fence of a ball diamond, my sister Gloria and a handful of her friends were advocating abortion alternatives to all that would listen. Their target audience was a mother who had her arms around her two teenage daughters. I was more of a bystander but during the course of this discussion I felt that a more personal tact was needed and right now, it was my time to speak.

I interjected. "Abortion is not the answer, I should know, I have had one and I regret it." I continued on with information and suggestions about responsibility and how a young girl can still give birth to a child without feeling like her life would be ruined.

As I was talking, I looked over at the shock on my sister's face. It occurred to me that I had not yet told her of my abortion, an explanation was in order but that was a more personal matter and not for the crowd. After completing my mission, or admission, Gloria and I walked down the main street discussing the ugly details which led to my unfortunate decision and the deception and pain that followed.

We passed clowns, dunk tanks, all kinds of people doing all kinds of things; none of it mattered until I spied a group of what I would consider crusading kids. They were in their late teens, early twenties and were more or less doing their thing for Christ. I was surprised as a small group of two or three were headed in my direction, not to preach as one might expect but they looked as if they were coming righ to me and they knew who they were looking for. "How strange", I thought. I knew they couldn't have heard what I said back there, my sister and I had walked much too far from the opposite direction.

When they arrived before me it was the young man that spoke. He was trying his best to not be alarming but his message was perhaps a bit too much to really come out calmly. "Are you Tina?", he said. How did he know my name? This was odd but it was nothing close to what he was about to tell me. He continues, "I don't want you to be afraid but I have to tell you that one of my guys down there says some "things" are trying to get to you, he is fending them of as best he can".

From previous experience I knew something of what he was talking about though I doubt most others around me had any idea - perhaps not even the messenger. "Wait here. Do not be afraid." I explained to Gloria that I had to deal with whatever it was that was looking for me. I couldn't let it fall on someone else, not even my big sister. My direction was clear and I was on my way.

Seemingly guided by instinct more than directions, I walked up to the church. It was old and small, likely no more than a clubhouse for these young crusaders. It was much too unkept to be an operating church. As I climbed the three or four steps up to the open front door, just inside, there was a young man seeming to be pushed and shoved by an unseen force (or forces, I should say). He was struggling but still he was holding strong. I knew that this was not his battle and whatever this was, it must be faced by me.

"My name is Tina Newby. I understand that someone is here looking for me". The guy that was fighting for me was suddenly spared, I lost focus of him but I was comforted that he was able to rest. All attention was on me. Not the kind of attention that your everyday person usually wants either. The unseen became visible and it was not pretty. There were at least two of them, maybe more, black opaque shadowy figures, shaped like bats or gargoyles and they weren't small. They looked to be about 7 feet tall but I didn't want to get close enough to find out. I knew why they were there, so did they. They wanted me. There in the rafeter sat all the guilt and pain I was carrying, manifested in these physical creatures and they were going to come at me and it was going to hurt.

I knew what I had to do. Right there on the floor, I laid myself down. I am sure I seemed like a prime buffet to the creatures but I knew I was as good as armored. There I pulled all the strength that I had within me and directed it right to God. "Lord, I know that I have sinned, I know that you sent your son to earth and allowed him to die to save all of us from the hell I am about to go through. I ask you as I lay here, surely about to die to throw a blanket of protection over me, a dome of strength that these things might not injure me. I know that Jesus Christ is my lord and savior and that I will be safe."

As I finish speaking, I see the creatures barreling down from the rafters toward me, just as they are about to hit, one of the young men with the crusaders threw his body crosswise over mine. The missles coming from above us are doing their best but they can not break through the translucent forcefield that has appeared around us. I just lay there and waited, here he was, another young man willing to put himself in harms way to protect me - and it worked.

After the barrage of demons subsided, I was helped up by the same guy that protected me. We moved to an outside deck of this same church building. He and I had a great conversation. I was ever so grateful. I told him all about what led up to this, my previous spiritual experiences and just went on an on. Sitting right next to him was a girl in her early to mid 20s with her long brown hair in a ponytail. She didn't seem in the least surprised by the events that just occurred. No one did, they were just all talking jubilantly and seemed to be enjoying another win over evil.

It occurred to me while I was chatting with my selfless hero that everyone was talking around us but strangely enough, not with us. Our conversation was completely private in the middle of this gathering of people. A portfolio of mental images from the walk with my sister until just this moment ran through my head. The very first appearance of the young man to which I am heartily talking with was when he threw himself on me for protection. He gave me a moment of pause in our conversation as I looked around. It was occurring to me that just as the creatures were only visible to me when I became the target of their attention...could it be only me who sees this man? If everyone thought I was talking to a hallucination, wouldn't they seem a little worried?

I look over the deck rail and motioned a passerby to come over. Admitting that I was about to ask a strange question, I asked "Do you see anyone sitting in that blue chair next to that girl". My hero smiled, he knew what I was asking. I looked back at the confused gentleman as he said, "No, just a pile of stuff". Glancing back, right next to the ponytailed brunette sat a blue chair with a small copy machine and stacks of file folders full of paper.
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