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, March 23, 2012

"No one, Sir."

Woman caught in Adultery -Lent

Another installment in a fine Lenten series for the postabortive from Lumina.  A passage of Scripture that I go back to again, and again, and again...

I'm the woman about to be stoned, but He's there.
I'm the woman washing His feet with my tears.
I'm the woman reaching out through the crowd just for the chance to touch the hem of His garment.
I'm the woman at the well, hanging on His every word to of Truth.
I'm Martha scurrying around my daily duties whining about how hard I have it and perturbed at Him.
I'm Mary sitting at His feet, soaking in every syllable He speaks and sharing every breath He takes.

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