Testimony from a 40 Days Participant

Testimony from Valerie Eilers, a 40 Days for Life participant.

I never thought in a million years that I would do something as bold as praying in front of an abortion clinic. I first heard about the 40 Days for Life campaign two months ago, and since that time, I questioned myself almost daily as to whether I’d be able to do it. During this time of discernment, my husband and I miscarried our fourth baby. Through the times of mourning, sadness, grief, and depression, I honestly hoped that God would exonerate me from participating in the vigil. By September 26, I could think of no reason not to participate except for fear.

Before getting married to my husband, my exposure to sex was one based on ignorance, sinfulness, and perversion of its true value. This is not the description one would expect of a person whose “education” about sex began in fifth grade and continued almost yearly throughout my public school career. To be truthful, I was not ignorant of the mechanics of sexual reproduction or of the anatomy of both male and female bodies.

What lacked in my sexual education was “the theology of the body.” I describe this as the soul’s connection to the physical act of sex. Without the soul, mankind would lack a feeling of purpose and completion; likewise sex without soul lacks purpose and integrity.

I may never know why sex was not addressed to me by my parents. Perhaps they, like the public school system, assumed that it was sufficient for me to learn about body mechanics, birth control, and disease prevention. The only thing I know for sure is that, by the time I had learned that abstinence was an option, it was already too late. At 16 years old, surrounded by what seemed at the time to be a unanimous majority of peers who were sexually active, I waited only for a person who I had a “long-term” relationship with (for appearance’s sake.) This was the devil’s sex- prompted by lust and an adolescent’s desire to fit in socially.

Having sex became to me a way to “purchase” affection, attention, and companionship during some of the loneliest, darkest, saddest years of my life. It was, like bulimia, drugs, and alcohol, a medicine I used to temporarily assuage the pains of my heart, soul, and mind. Whatever sanctity I may have inherently attributed to sex became tarnished more and more over time.

If poor self worth was the cause of my “prostitution,” each use and (especially) abuse exacerbated the horrible way I felt about myself.

Somewhere inside me, I knew that sex was only meant for the person I would marry. Yet everyone else, including my family who had taken me to the gynecologist for birth control at age 16, seemed to be saying the very opposite- if only by omitting that abstinence was an option.

Eight years ago, inevitably, I became pregnant out of wedlock, and it was again my sister who I told first. As was her habit, she interfered and told my mother about the pregnancy before I could. I remember sitting in that wingback chair facing the sofa where my irate mother and sister sat and issued the only choice I had, “Get an abortion, or you’re out.” I was an unwed and pregnant twenty-one year old woman. I wasn’t ready, but I wanted to do whatever was necessary to get ready to be a mother to the baby I thought of as my daughter Hunter. But, for me, there was no “choice” involved. I aborted Hunter, and no one ever talked about it.

Again, it seemed the devil’s choice was the only one: doing what was wrong and against my conscience for the sake of appearances and to comply with outside pressure. I went with a friend; I can’t remember if a family member even offered to go with me. As with every other trauma I’ve suffered in my life, I stuck a metaphorical sock in my mouth (probably food, alcohol, and drugs) so that my grief would be quiet enough not to disturb anyone.

From that time, I continued to plummet downward mentally and emotionally until, five years after the abortion, I finally reached rock bottom in my life. On August 23, 2004, I called out to God. I really didn’t know much about Him, except that He was the only one who could help me. I found out that being a Christian and/or believing in Christ carried with it a responsibility on my part. Like any other relationship, it required communication and openness to trust. To me, unlike relationships with human beings, this was neither burden nor risk. Perhaps the best part of my relationship with Christ was that it was intimate without being sexual. By this time in my life, “sexual” meant shame, sin, filth, and feeling robbed and violated.

God heard me, and He has healed me in many ways from the filth I’d accumulated from living contrary to His will. But, the culture of death has left its mark on me, and I’ve prayed so hard for God to put an end to the distortion I have about love, sex, and trust.

During the first year of my conversion to Christ, I relied heavily on my own reading of the Bible, as I’d been told that “all the answers are in the Bible.” Truthfully, I did find most of the inspiration and guidance I needed in there. However, for the healing and restoration I needed, and to stop repeating the same sins over and over again, I found redemption through the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist.

Lately, I’ve been struggling and asking God, “How can sex be redeemed- to go from an unholy act to a beautiful and sacred act? It will take an erasure of all of the lewd, perverse, and harming images and experiences of my fallen past.

40 Days for Life was His answer and gift to me. Over the years since 1999, I often wished that there had been someone who reached out and revealed that abortion was not the only “choice” I had. I am sure, though, that my conversion was helped by the prayers of compassionate souls who prayed for women like me and for the end of abortion. I can’t go back and change what happened in my life, but I can pray for others and ask God to show the same mercy he showed to me. I can beg Him to call them also to repentance and new life. Thanks to 40 Days for Life, I can also stand up for what’s right and oppose the evil that robbed me of so much.

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The first time I went to the vigil site, I prayed for one hour while the clinic was closed. Nothing but grace can account for the near absence of fear I felt during that hour. I’ve gone back, not out of guilt or obligation but to pray empathetically and to show love for the people inside. I’ll never know the result of my prayers, but I trust that God hears them and will help the people who are hurting, lost, and deceived by the evils of abortion.

The next time I went was a Friday, and the Planned Parenthood was open. Knowing that Fridays are the days on which abortions are performed, it was heart-breaking to see the women and couples going inside. Being familiar with the atmosphere and what goes on in such places, it was even more upsetting. A very young girl came with her mother, and it made me sad to think of how much destruction this “choice” may cause in that family.

In the end, grace has abounded in my life during these 40 Days for Life. I feel newfound peace, and I think Hunter not only forgives me but is also proud that I’m standing up for other unborn babies and showing compassion to their young parents. My husband and I have met new friends, and we no longer feel so alone or isolated. Our relationship has deepened, as well as our faith lives. Through prayer, fasting, and community outreach, I’m confident that the lies and works of the culture of death are being put to death on a cross. When we cast aside what is evil, it is put to death, and new life rises from the ashes. I can testify that it’s true.