I’ll share with you a story that shows us how God loves us, how He blesses us in spite of our past mistakes. He always blesses in His timing, and, just as He sometimes answers prayers differently than we may ask. His blessings may not be what we expect, either. We don’t always know what’s best for us.
He knows all. He knows the whole story of our lives. He knows the perfect answer, the perfect blessing, and the perfect time. He is faithful!
I remember being really tired, much more than usual. No matter what I did or how much I slept, I was so tired, just wanting to sleep. I had done drugs for years, but now I found myself crawling under the tables in laundromats at night to just sleep. What was going on with me?
I had been picked up on a ticket and had gone to the city jail. I remember falling to the ground in the police station as they asked me to stand against the wall until my name was called for me to be booked in. I was taken to the emergency room, where they discovered I was dehydrated and severely underweight.
They came in later and told me I was pregnant. Really? I remember asking, “What did you just say?” They repeated those three life–changing words: “You are pregnant.” I responded, “I can’t be pregnant.” The emergency room professional seemed to be holding back a smirk, replying, “Well, Ms. McDonald, you are a prostitute. Don’t you know how the whole pregnancy thing works?”
I said, rather hatefully, I might add, “I know how it works. I am a prostitute and that is why I cannot be pregnant. How far along am I?”
They told me I was so underweight that it would be hard to tell, but they ordered an ultrasound. They brought me sandwiches and some Sprite, and I waited.
Oh, my gosh, I was thinking, this can’t be real! God only knows who the father is. I sure didn’t have a clue. I’m living in a park, sleeping in empty, abandoned buildings. I can’t be a mother! I didn’t even know what year or month it was.
After the ultrasound, they returned. “We think you’re about 12 to 14 weeks along, but it’s hard to tell.”
At least three months pregnant? Are you kidding me? The jeans I had on were a size zero, and I needed a belt to hold them up.
I was returned to the city jail. I believe I did 10 days, and then I was released. I still reflect back to that time in the emergency room, a place that was not unfamiliar to me. Why didn’t they send a social worker at that time, to offer some services? I believe it was because I was a known homeless prostitute who also suffered with the disease of addiction. I mean, I have worked with a lot of individuals over the years, and the ER staff generally asks if the patient wants to speak to a social worker. Is that because I’m present, so it appears that someone cares for them? Or is it because we have become more understanding of human trafficking and the darkness and many facets of prostituted persons’ lives? I’m not sure…
To be continued…
Contact Information:
Christine C. McDonald
636-487-8986
Christine.CryPurple@gmail.com
“Love your neighbor, all of ’em.” -Christine Clarity McDonald
It’s really sad what’s been happening in these past couple of weeks. Bombs have been sent to politicians, elderly, weak and helpless people have been killed in a place of worship and we wonder why or what’s going on. What makes this worse is some of our top political leaders promote this kind of evil. I want ask you as I ask myself “What are we becoming?”, “Who do you/I want to be?” This has nothing to do with what political side you are on but a question on what road do we want to choose not just for ourselves but for others. I’d like to share what 1 Peter 3:8 says:
