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This book was written to start a conversation of "What if?" What if there is more to life before birth? What if there's a life waiting to make a beautiful impact for all yet stopped by a decision? What if we gave these lives a chance? What if the people who created this life have pieces missing in them? What if we talked about these wounds we carry around to make us scared of bringing a life into this world? What if? All I ask is no matter what side of the issue of abortion you are on, if you believe in God or not, or if you reading this and have or are about to go through with this type of…mehr
This book was written to start a conversation of "What if?" What if there is more to life before birth? What if there's a life waiting to make a beautiful impact for all yet stopped by a decision? What if we gave these lives a chance? What if the people who created this life have pieces missing in them? What if we talked about these wounds we carry around to make us scared of bringing a life into this world? What if? All I ask is no matter what side of the issue of abortion you are on, if you believe in God or not, or if you reading this and have or are about to go through with this type of decision; Please put all those to the side like a coat coming in from the rain and just read. I wrote these stories from my own loss from abortion and not knowing my father. I just had a piece of me missing from these losses and I wrote this to help fill them in. I just pray they will do the same for you.
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This book began when I was ten years old, sitting in a movie theater where I was dropped off while my mom had an abortion. I sat there thinking of the sonograms I saw and how I perked up dreaming of being a big brother. Then some 8 years later, I had another blow when my mom told me that the father I thought was my dad was not my biological father. My real father just got her pregnant and left. This started the question of who am I, which has haunted me all my life making me leery of some guy in the sky calling himself a father. I figure with that title he would never stick around anyways. This leads to years of drug abuse and drinking, continuing to the point of rehab, where I found myself in the corner of a church by myself drugged out of my mind. I simply said, "God, if you're real save me, if not, I'm dead." He did. Then began this journey with God; still, the question lingered, why? What happened to my brother? Why do Fathers reject us, and mothers get rid of us? I wrote this to bring people together to start a conversation and try somehow to put a voice to my brother, who never had a chance to speak. I still don't know who my biological father is and maybe never will, but I know now I'm not the only one. Still, now I have found out in this journey that I have a Heavenly Father, and He never left.
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