My story happened about 15 years ago. Seems like only yesterday in many ways. A friend-my best friend from home was pregnant and alone. The father of the baby was a one-time boyfriend, but not someone she would consider marrying.

I listened as she told me how devastated her parents would be if they found out she was pregnant. I listened as she dreamed of a precious little baby to hold and cuddle and love. I listened as she talked about the shame she would experience as talk would be all over the little town in which we grew up. Her parents would face the gossip alone. I listened and watched as the tone of her voice and the expressions on her face fluctuated between worry and joy and then worry again.

She clearly didn't know what to do. She was frightened, worried, heartsick.

I listened, but I didn't offer much help. Deep down I knew abortion was the wrong choice, but I was afraid of offending her, of damaging the relationship, so I kept my feelings to myself.

When she called to tell me she had made an appointment for the abortion my heart raced, but still I kept silent. I offered to come home (from out of state) to take her to the clinic. She declined my offer, saying someone else would take her.

Now it was my turn to be sick.

Many years passed. I thought of her abortion periodically, with sadness, but little more. Then one day a new friend told me about her abortions. She had two late-term abortions when she was younger. The pain on her face and in her voice was evident. It had taken its toll on her life in many ways. I listened as she told me she had accepted God's forgiveness, but just couldn't forgive herself.

My thoughts returned to my old friend and how miserable her life had been since the abortion. I suddenly found myself faced with a new emotion where her abortion was concerned: it was no longer just sadness but guilt that engulfed me. How could I have sat idly by while she terminated her pregnancy? How could I be such a terrible friend even while I was so worried about our friendship? I had a special place of influence in her life and I kept silent. The guilt overwhelmed me. It was as though by my silence I had helped her to kill her baby. I realized at that moment I was as guilty as the doctor who performed the abortion.

I found myself more interested in the abortion issue than ever. I read up on it. I studied the procedures and the development of the fetus at various stages. I found myself giving speeches on abortion to women's groups informing them of the horrors that awaited a woman who chose abortion. And my guilt increased. Then one day, I sat down to write about my sin and God's forgiveness. I wrote about how I had betrayed my friend and my God by my inaction and silence when I could have helped her make a better choice.

Then, I wrote about the principles of God's forgiveness. And I knew that He had forgiven me. By faith, as an act of my will, regardless of my feelings, I accepted God's forgiveness made available to me through the death of Jesus Christ on the cross. The guilt feelings didn't suddenly wash away, but with the passing of time they have faded almost entirely. I know what I did was wrong and I know that by God's grace I am forgiven. I suppose the remainder of the guilt is leftover because I have not received forgiveness from my friend. We have spoken of her abortion a couple of times in passing, and both times she assured me she had made the right choice in choosing abortion. In light of her feelings I was unable to ask for forgiveness. Perhaps someday that will change.

For now I continue to devote my time and energy toward helping other women who have been hurt by abortion. And for those in crisis pregnancy situations, my greatest desire is to help them make the better choice.

Just sign me "Forgiven".