The Sixth Street Bridge

The Sixth Street Bridge
At the tender age of 17, I walked across this bridge, alone, into Downtown Pittsburgh, with $300 in my pocket that my mother had given me to get an abortion. I went into the Fulton Building (in the picture) and did what I was told to do. I didn't have a choice - if I did, I wouldn't have chosen abortion.

Friday, June 17, 2011

An Imaginary Confession: The aborted Child and redemptive Love

An Imaginary Confession: The aborted Child and redemptive Love

A fantastic article. I have thought or spoken just about every word in this imaginary confession. The first priest I confessed my abortion to did not absolve me. It was not a good experience. I have carried the feelings from it around for years. The Church teaching then and now is so vastly different and now I understand why that priest said what he did to me, but the scars remain. Every priest and seminarian should have this at the ready.

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