What It Really Means to be Pro-Life

"What do you mean you don't believe in birth control?"

I was a senior at a Christian college, engaged to be married in just a matter of months. I was counting down the weeks until I graduated and could finally walk down the aisle to the love of my life.

I wasn't really thinking about children.

I had bigger things on my plate, like wedding planning and graduate school applications and picking out silverware. Babies weren't really on the agenda quite yet. Sure, I wanted a family…eventually.  

But one weekend things changed. I was sitting with a group of friends talking about life, and weddings and families, when a friend of mine made the comment that he and his future bride didn't intend to use any form of birth control.

"Why not? Are you crazy? Are you really ready for kids?"

His answer spoke straight to my heart in a way that only truth can.

"For us, it's all about being pro-life. How can we say we value life if we do everything in our power to prevent it?"

Pro-life is a buzz word in the Christian community. Most believers I know consider themselves to be pro-life. We stand united against the evils of abortion. We pray for those mothers trapped in pro-choice movement. We cringe when we see horrendous news stories like Kermit Gosnell and see statistics about this modern American holocaust. We are pro-life.

Or should I say, we are anti-abortion. 

Sitting on the couch that day with my friends I came face-to-face with this very uncomfortable truth: being against abortion doesn't automatically make you pro-life.

When I think of being "pro" something I think of being for it. It's something we stand for, something we fight for, something we value.

Likewise, being pro-life logically means that we stand for, fight for, and value LIFE. It goes beyond a political agenda. It's about our attitude, our beliefs, and our actions.

And yet, at the age of 23 graduating from a Christian college and ready to embark on the adventure of marriage, I had bought into the pro-choice rhetoric hook, line, and sinker.

Birth control was my path to freedom, my path to choice. I had the right to choose how many children I wanted and when I had them. And if children weren't convenient, I had the right to the benefits and blessings of marriage without the God-given responsibility that naturally comes with sex.

My marriage, my family, my choice.

I just didn't realize at the time how broken my logic was. I loved the Lord and desired to serve him, but the blinders on my heart kept me from seeing just how much the world had influenced my ideas of children and fertility.

As the Lord slowly peeled back the layers of fear and selfishness, I found myself faced with the ugly truth: I valued my sense of control more than I valued the life that God calls blessed.

I’d like to say that it was an easy decision to just embrace family and children. It wasn't. In fact, this conversation started a long two year process of studying, praying, and wrestling with where fertility fits into our Christian life. 

What does the Bible say about being pro-life and how can we best honor and glorify God with our family? Do I really think children are a good thing? Even the ones I haven't had yet? 

Now, five years later I don’t have all the answers. Some days I still wrestle with these questions, wondering what our family will look like 5, 10, even 20 years from now. But I am confident in this: As we continue to grow our faith and grow our family, God will give us all the grace we need. For ourselves, for our children, and for those who may think differently than us. 

And that's all we really need. Grace.