My funk didn't lift until I felt the baby move. I was reading Psalm 139. As I read verses 14-16, I felt her move for the first time. In awe, I read the verses again: "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

God couldn't have spoken more clearly. This baby was His handiwork. He had already written its days in His book.

I began to pray. "I'm so sorry, God. I've been pouting and thinking about myself. If you want this child to be born, who am I to resist?"

I placed my hand on my stomach. "Forgive me, little O.P.," I said.

That night at supper, I sent my husband the look. The one that said, "I love you. Everything is right in my world."

Taking a deep breath, I said, "I need everyone's attention. I have an announcement to make."

"I bet you sold that book you've been writing," Josh said.

"Nah, you're going to be on the Tonight Show," Zach guessed, not to be outdone.

"Wrong and wrong," I said.

"Remember when you told me you wanted a baby sister?"

"Yeah," Josh said. "You told us to grow up and get one of our own."

"Well, I changed my mind. You're going to get a chance to have a baby sister – or brother. I'm going to have a baby in August."

"You don't look real fat," Zach said. "Just a little."

"Thanks, I think, but I'll look really fat soon."

"Does that mean you're going to quit speaking and stay home with us?" Josh asked.

"I already stay home with you most of the time."

"I know, but I liked it better when you were here all the time. We could bring our friends home after school, and you'd feed us cookies and let us roller blade in the basement if it was cold outside. All my friends think it's cool to have a Mom who's home after school."

"Yeah," Zach chimed in. "And they like that you make us treasure hunts and stuff for our birthdays. And they really think your canned biscuit pizzas are cool."

"There you have it," David said. "The vote is in. This family needs a stay-at-home Mom."

"For a while," I agreed. "I'm not promising to stay here and plan birthday parties forever."

And so I gave up my speaking career. The publication with the most readers told me they were going to drop my column if I refused to travel. They'd been talking to me about publishing a book of humorous columns called Male Quirks and Female Foibles. The advance we'd discussed had been sizeable.

Surprisingly, I wasn't distraught. Although I was interested in publishing a book, I simply felt it wasn't God's time. If I had to travel the speaker's circuit to keep the publisher happy, then I would bid them farewell. I wrote my valediction and sent it to the magazine.

#

"I wish I could figure out Your timing, God," Faith thought. "Is it Your time for us to get married?"

Faith's computer beeped the warning that she had incoming mail. When she checked, she found that the mail was for Angelica.

Only one person had Angelica's address.

"Hey," the note said. "Just got back from group. One of the girls told us that she was in the mall and ran into the father of her aborted child. She was shocked to see him. She didn't know that he had come to ULM to work on his masters. The last she heard, he was working in Texas. Anyway, he asked her to have coffee with him. He told her that he regretted aborting their child and asked for her forgiveness. He showed her a picture of a little girl in a wheel chair. He has a four-year-old daughter with cerebral palsy. After tests on the amniotic fluid, the doctor recommended they abort the child. He said he'd learned the hard way that abortion is painful and haunts you. He and his wife chose to have the child. He has never regretted that decision. He told her that his daughter is his joy. His only regret is that he aborted her sibling. That's another possible twist for your book. If your protagonist decides to have her child, it could be born handicapped but turn out to be a blessing. But here's another twist. He asked if he could attend our group! Everyone agreed, so he'll be here next week. That should make for an entirely new dynamic. For your purposes, though, if your character decides to abort against her guy's wishes, he could start a men's abortion recovery group. I bet that would get your reader's attention."

Intrigued, Faith wrote back.

"Thanks for the ideas. That's an interesting development. Let me know how the group session goes with a guy present. I don't know if an editor would buy a men's abortion recovery group. In my experience, guys don't like to talk about their pain. They prefer to repress it or deny it. Talking things out guy to guy isn't considered macho. Men usually have to be dragged kicking and screaming to any kind of therapy. Still, it's a thought."

As she hit send, Faith's phone rang. It was Aaron.

"Did yesterday's farewell kiss leave you craving more?" he asked. "I figured it was like expensive chocolates, hard to pass up."

Faith laughed. "Well, I'm not so addicted that the first taste knocks me off the wagon."

"Not even tempted?"

"Perhaps a little."

"Look, you know that kid I told you about, the one whose girl is pregnant?"

"Yeah."

"He said his girlfriend wants them to talk to another couple. He wanted to know if you and I could meet with them."

"I don't know, Aaron."

"She probably just needs someone to listen."

"Isn't there some kind of group therapy you could send them to?"

"Faith! Group therapy is for people who're recovering from something. We're trying to keep them out of an abortion recovery group."

"Do they have those kind of groups for couples?"

"Not that I know of. Most men wouldn't be caught dead in group therapy. Usually their wives or girlfriends drag them there."

"That's what I figured. Is she dragging this kid to talk to us?"

"No. He told her about talking to me. She asked if I had a girlfriend and if the two of us would talk to them. She feels more comfortable with a woman present."

Faith reluctantly agreed to meet with them the next night.

"What do I do now, God?" she asked after she hung up. "I could probably help this girl, but Aaron doesn't know that I went to an abortion recovery group with his ex."

"There's always confession."

"Yeah, and then Aaron and I wouldn't be talking to each other. I'm sure they'd be impressed with counselors who can't even look each other in the eye."

Instead she logged back onto the computer and sent an email to Kyra.

"A couple in the youth group my boyfriend works with is contemplating abortion. They want to talk to us. Any words of wisdom?"

The reply came back.

"Do more listening than talking. I'm sure they've already heard the hard line. Help them to list and explore all options: abortion, adoption and keeping the baby. Don't sugar coat anything. Let them know that anything they choose will at some point involve pain, but that in the options of adoption and keeping the baby the pain will be balanced by joy. In abortion there is never any joy. Good luck."

Faith groaned. She got herself a late night snack and then settled down with the journal. A folded paper was stuck in the journal. It was a typed column. It hadn't been cut out of a magazine or newspaper. "I guess this is Mama's farewell column," Faith thought. "I hope it's funny and not maudlin. I could use a laugh right now."