Silent voices speak volumes

Life begins at conception. Often, before a mother even knows she is expecting, a tiny heart is already beating in her womb. Brain waves develop. Little fingers form. Ears begin to hear. A precious life takes shape.

The Psalmist writes, “For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb. … I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13-14).

These are not mere words. They are declarations of God’s divine design.

God designed a mother’s womb to grow and nurture life, but tragically, the womb has become a death trap for millions each year. Through abortion, multitudes of innocent lives are never given a chance outside the womb. The voices of these babies are never heard. Their stories are never told.

But what would they say if they could speak?

Words from the womb

Mark Jones thoughtfully considers this question in his powerful book titled If I Could Speak: Letters from the Womb. Through the voice of a fictional, aborted baby girl named Zoe, Jones answers the question in powerful and provocative ways.

Zoe’s responses are written in the form of letters to her mommy. They are sweet and tender but filled with heart-wrenching questions that cut through the voices of today’s culture and to the core of one’s being.

In one letter, Zoe writes:

God was once here. … Where did God place the most precious person in the world? In a womb. … The safest place in the world for Jesus was His mother’s womb.

In another letter, she tells her mother:

I’d rather be adopted than aborted. … I am asking that you will please consider giving me to someone who will be able to take care of me and give me a chance at life.

And in another, baby Zoe speaks to the hard truth of responsibility. To her mother, she writes:

You and Daddy put me here. … We can either choose to live in a society where we are prepared to account for our decisions, or we can pretend that we don’t really need to be responsible for our actions. The former requires a great deal of self-sacrifice whereas the latter requires selfishness. … Do you not think it reasonable for me to simply ask you and Daddy whether you are both prepared to be responsible for putting me here in your belly?

At the core of Zoe’s letters is the reminder of simple truths: Life is not a mistake; responsibility cannot be ignored; every child is created by God, with purpose and for a purpose.

A shared responsibility

Through these letters, Zoe doesn’t speak only to her mother. She also pleads with her father while wishing him a “Happy Father’s Day” from the womb – something she will never have the chance to say face-to-face. She reminds him that his voice matters too … that courage and compassion on his part can change everything. Fatherhood, like motherhood, begins at conception.

In a world that tells fathers to stay silent, Jones calls them to lead with love and responsibility. He applies the same call to the Christian church. When society goes to great lengths to defend and protect an eagle’s egg – but not a child in the womb – it’s past time for God’s people to rise up and speak the truth in love.

Behind every abortion are real people – a real mother, a real father, a real child. The church’s response must be one of courage and of compassion. God’s mercy, forgiveness, and grace are big enough to cover the taking of an innocent life and cultivate healing where guilt once lived.

Pleas from a post-abortive mom

Surprisingly, the book doesn’t end with a final letter from Zoe. Years after Zoe is gone, her mother writes back. A woman, once convinced that abortion was her path to freedom, now carries a sorrow she cannot shake. She misses the baby she never held, the daughter she never had. Now, she longs to conceive again but can’t.

Her letter poignantly describes the ache so many post-abortive women live with in silence. Her words make it clear that abortion doesn’t erase motherhood; it replaces joy with regret. Zoe’s mother writes:

I wanted to write this letter to you, knowing of course that you will never read it. But at least I’m able to say, given years of regret, that I’m sorry. Vain regrets aren’t going to change what happened to you, but my ‘sorry’ comes from my heart. I’m not just sorry because I want a child now and can’t have one. I’m sorry because I was given a gift, and I refused to open it. I was wrong; you were right.

Yet even in that pain, God’s grace reaches deep.

A call to the church

Proverbs 31:8 (NIV) calls believers to “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves,” which includes the unborn – and perhaps even the mothers who need hope and the fathers who need strength. The mandate also serves as a reminder to the church that it should never grow silent but must remain vocal by loving, serving, and supporting life – in the womb and beyond.

If the unborn could actually speak like Zoe did in Jones’ book, they would likely say, “I am loved. I am known. I am His.” And while the world may never hear their voices, Heaven already has.