She enters the building, familiar; but offering little comfort. She enters her office, unwraps her scarf and lays her coat on the side table. She opens her laptop and starts the days emails. A tear drops from her eye, and she quickly looks up to see no one staring. She sighs a breath of relief. She stands up and heads to her meetings, tissues in pocket.
She walks away from the meeting; refreshed by what she has just accomplished with others. She files the paperwork needed, makes her final rounds driving down streets, she responds to the emails and returns a phone call. Pushing in her chair, she throws her coat onto her back, wraps the scarf around her neck, and heads home for the day. She silently nods to her co-workers as she restrains herself from running to the door, jamming the key in the ignition and leaving the premise. As she starts out on the road, she decompresses and allows the tears to roll down her face, staining her blouse in moisture.
She has been doing the same routine for 3 weeks. She will continue to do so for another 3 weeks. The silence she keeps..... protects her. But it isn't a comforting silence, or a nurturing silence. It is a painful silence, one that has haunted her and, up to this point, has made her believe she has no choices left to make on her own.
You see 2 months ago she was raped. Attacked brutally on the street and dragged to a car where a monstrous act was committed against her. 2 weeks after the attack she took a home pregnancy test : +
She has not shared this with anyone, including her boyfriend,mother or father. She has felt to ashamed to call out to God; or maybe angry. She goes to work everyday, a job that enlists her abilities in the criminal justice field. She works to catch the bad guys. To lock them up. To ensure justice is delivered. But now the tables have been flipped. She seeks no justice, silently claiming no wrongdoing to herself. Her innocence is silent, never uttered for fear of the pity and sympathy that come with a tale like this.
Fast forward 3 weeks, 4 weeks into her pregnancy. She is doing her rounds alone. Tissues are stocked as is the norm of late, and tears are in no shortage. She scans the streets for signs up wrongdoing, silently justifying to herself her silence when a sign catches her eye.
"Silent No More: Crisis Pregnancy Counseling"
She halts the squad car against the curb....... takes a breathe so deep it seems to hurt more than the pain of the secret she carries. She opens the door, and shaking visibly, walks up the steps, opens the door of the office, and closes it behind her. She walks out 3 hours later, an adoption pamphlet in hand and a prayer in her heart.
4 weeks later, she is holding the hand of a man that loves her; her belly barely showing signs of life. She is staring at 5 men in a line. The perk of there inability to see her and the love radiating from the hands being held gives her the strength that is needed. She turns to her boyfriend and utters 3 simple words: " Silent No More?" He nods with a tear on his cheek. She looks forward, offers up a prayer of brokenness and raises her right hand: #4.
"Love Is Patient. Love is Kind. "
Statistics (In 2010, 85,500 rapes were reported in the United States. Rape is often the most under reported crime due to the violence of the attack and the shame the victim lives with afterwards. As a pro-life advocate I do not condone rape. As a Christian I believe in the value of life in every child and every mother. As a broken human being, I believe in the power of God to restore his children.)