Abortion is THE Evangelism Opportunity of This Age

April is abortion recovery month, a time when pro-lifers place extra emphasis on getting women and men into abortion recovery programs—because healed women don’t shout their abortions and healed men don’t pay for abortions.

Healed women don’t shout their abortions and healed men don’t pay for abortions.

But I like to think of abortion recovery month as evangelism month because only Jesus can break chains, heal us, and restore our lives.

I am Cheryl Krichbaum, an award-winning author, speaker, and writing coach, equipping Christians to speak the truth in love about abortion and extra-marital sex.

I understand the other side of the abortion argument because I used to be the other side.

I grew up in a church-y family. My dad was the choir director. My dad is still the choir director—at 88 years old!

Before I was born, my mom was the church organist. Growing up, I knew her as the Sunday School curriculum expert, who trained Sunday school teachers. She directed children’s choir, ran Vacation Bible School, and later directed the bell choir.

Her dad was a pastor from about 1930s-70s.

My dad’s brother is a retired pastor.

But when my family was hit with adversity, my parents didn’t know what to do—and our church didn’t either.

I’m the youngest of three. My sister was 9 years ahead of me in school and my brother 7 years ahead, so after I finished 5th grade, they were both out of the house and I transitioned from the spoiled youngest to the spoiled only child.

Until the middle of 10th grade. That’s the year that my big sister, although married, moved back into the house along with her baby boy. My sister had a mental illness, and her husband couldn’t handle it, so he left.

Now I was no longer the spoiled only child. I became the neglected middle child.

My sister’s behavior was weird. The doctors didn’t know how to diagnose her but years later landed on “schizophrenia.”

My household was full of stress. I felt so neglected at home that when a young man showed interest in me, I gravitated toward his attention. Today I can say that I wanted agape love but settled for eros love.

And I got pregnant.

My boyfriend had no interest in getting married or raising a child but said “I’m not going to tell you what to do.” The weight fell on me.

It was June right after my junior year in high school. I sat first chair in band. I was the editor of my high school newspaper. I was at the top of my class. I had great plans for college and a career.

So I chose abortion.

On June 18, 1987, my boyfriend drove me and both of our moms to the abortion facility. He paid, and I willingly submitted to having life sucked out of me.

The photos above artistically show how I felt—although I didn’t realize it at the time, joy was sucked out of me right along with my baby. And as soon as my baby left me, my face fell.

Many women express relief when they have an abortion—even when they later regret their choice. But I was already good at covering up my emotions. I was numb. I had to be okay with my choice. I just repressed my emotions even more.

I was just fine. But with 20/20 hindsight, I can see that my vitality was drained away and that my abortion turned me into the walking dead.

While I was just fine, I wrote pro-choice articles for my high school newspaper (and created a controversy in the city newspaper), I volunteered for Planned Parenthood Action Fund, and I counter-protested the Christians who protested at an abortion facility.

I was the person conservative Christians hate. But I was defending my choice.

I married the guy who fathered my baby—frankly because I didn’t know any better. But he ended up divorcing me.

And when I started dating again, I met a conservative evangelical who loved babies. I didn't expect things to go well when I told him about my abortion, figuring he’d break things off. But he didn’t. He said, “That’s in the past. It’s over.”

He tried to share the Gospel with me several times, but I rebuffed him. But eventually I went to church with him. I'm sure he and his small group were praying.

I responded to an altar call on March 22, 2001. We were married in August.

In early 2002 through prayer, the Lord brought up my abortion, and I got defensive. I blamed just about everyone else, including my nephew. And that’s what woke me up—he was 2! So I accepted responsibility for my choice—and immediately felt different. Lighter, maybe.

When I chose to get baptized as an adult, I shared my testimony and got very little response from the 200 Christians who heard my story—not even my small group embraced me. Only one pastor out of half-a-dozen—and he wasn’t even the pastor who led our wedding ceremony.

At an event with another 200 Christian women, the Lord had me give my testimony, and again no positive response. Little did they know that 3/4th of the women who organized that event were post-abortive.

The lie I believed is that my testimony is the kind of victory no one wants to hear.

I gave my testimony one more time before moving out of my home state of Minnesota—but only agreed because I was leaving. I'm sure my pastor prayed me into it.

I stayed silent for the 3-1/2 years we lived in Georgia.

And it took 3 years after moving to Virginia before I told anyone—and that was only because I was going on a mission trip. That mission trip changed my life.

Through circumstances that’ll take too long to tell, the mission team had a conversation about abortion in Africa, and I heard myself say, “Women need to talk to women about abortion.” It felt like the Holy Spirit tapped my should and said, “that’s what you’re going to do.”

But I didn’t want to. I spent the month of January 2017 wrestling with the Lord over this calling—and clearly gave up the fight and submitted to His will.

It was through writing my story and then going through an abortion recovery program through my local pregnancy resource center that I felt completely healed. Not only do I have my joy back, but I share my joy wherever I go—the first step in evangelism.

Over the last 9 years, I’ve learned to give God my “yes.”

Yes, I’ll write my story (which one a couple awards).

Yes, I’ll speak at events-including more in Uganda.

Yes, I’ll run all the technology for online pro-life. events.

Yes, I’ll go to Jackson, MS to shout my abortion regret (that was before the Dobbs v Jackson decision).

Yes, I’ll coach others to write their stories so well that they feel empowered to submit their memoirs to award programs.

Yes, I’ll speak frankly to homeschool students about tough subjects—when I teach The Scarlet Letter, I teach The Scarlet Letter!

Yes, I’ll start a Students for Life group.

Yes, I’ll even teach sex education.

This photo was taken a couple weeks ago. Our homeschool group had a fundraiser—vote which teacher you’d like to see in a onesie costume. I had the honor of being a sumo wrestler because I tackle tough topics.

I’m connected to post-abortive women across the country, all in the pro-life movement because we don’t want women to go through what we went through.

And every time we get together, we lament that pastors don’t talk about abortion from the pulpit. Many women will respond to your authority.

But just as important, men respond. And many men in your congregations have been involved in abortions and need healing too.

Yes, some men had their child killed against their will, but statistically men are the number one influence on a woman’s choice. If my boyfriend had said, “We can do this,” I would have chosen life.

I am in an abortion regret group on Facebook, and I am tired of reading posts from women who say, “He said that if I didn’t have the abortion, he would leave—and he left anyway.”

Women don’t get pregnant by themselves, and we don’t choose abortion by ourselves.

Women don’t get pregnant by themselves, and we don’t choose abortion by ourselves.

So not only do I implore you to speak the truth in love from the pulpit, but also during men’s events (including any programs you have on pornography) and during women’s events to both prevent abortions but also to promote redemption through healing programs.

Healing programs started with Christians. It’s only recently that non-Christian programs have popped up. Many people come to Christ through healing programs.

Abortion healing is the difference between knowing that there’s no condemnation in Christ and living the abundant life Jesus offers.

And if you’re looking for a place to start, I recommend the David & Bathsheba story because David arranged the death of Uriah to cover up his infidelity. Isn’t that historically what abortion has been about? And David had consequences. God led me to Psalm 32:4. David said, “Your hand was heavy upon me, and my vitality was drained away.”

That was it! My vitality was drained away, and I became the walking dead until Christ healed me and restored abundant life.

And if you’d like more Bible passages to support your pro-life sermons, you’ll love chapter 12 in my latest book. Pastor Barton, who reviewed the book to be sure it was theologically sound, returned chapter 12 to me and said, “Every pastor should read this study.”

If you have an intake form ahead of counseling—ask if they have an abortion story. Alcoholism, drug abuse, marital problems may have started after abortion trauma.

And I will say yes to whatever you need. If you want to hop on Zoom or have an email exchange on wording things well, I’ll be happy to do that.

The enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy.

Abortion steals not only our future family but the plans God has for us.

Abortion not only kills our children but also our souls.

And abortion destroys our relationships, which is one of the consequences King David had.

But Jesus came so that we could have abundant life!