Good Girls

At the center of Jon's thoughts was his fourteen-year-old daughter, Shawna. After what could have happened to the girls at the rec center earlier, he wanted to hold Shawna and never let her go. She was a good girl, but she was naive and irresponsible, growing up too fast. Jon's ex-wife, Stevie, who he reluctantly acknowledged had been a good single mom since the divorce, lamented that Shawna was watching too much TV and losing interest in church. Jon hoped he could spend some time with Shawna and nine-year-old Collin this weekend. Maybe the three of them could go to church together Sunday morning. Now that he was unable to see his children every day, Jon yearned for their all-too-infrequent visits.

Jon tried to pray for his kids, but as often happened when he tried to pray, his mind wandered. Horrible stuff happens to good girls, and it could happen to Shawna, too. A knot of worry twisted painfully in Jon's stomach. He finally fell asleep begging God to keep his little girl safe.

The Fight is On

Rattler swung at Jon but missed. Taunted by the others, he charged Jon— swearing, swinging, and fuming, backing Jon closer to the kids he felt he must protect with his life. Jon snatched the kid's wrist in midswing, spun him around, their feet accidentally getting tangled, and Rattler hit the hardwood floor face first. The kid howled and cursed in pain—teeth loose and blood droplets spewing. Jon knew it must have looked—and felt—like an intentional, vindictive takedown. John thought God help me as he scrambled quickly to his feet.

The other seven thugs were nearly on him when a loud, heavy rap on the gym's main doors stopped them in their tracks. Two LAPD officers entered with their nightsticks in hand to break up the fight. His assistant had seen the gang come in and called 9-1-1. Two of them were arrested for packing semiautomatic handguns without permits. The others had no weapons on them and were released at the scene.

Later that night, nineteen-year-old Eugene "Rattler" Hackett paced the dark driveway of the run-down house where he lived with his uncle. Sober now, he had been seething for a couple of hours over being bloodied and humiliated in front of his gang. Eugene vowed to find the guy in the gym, the basketball coach who had taken him down. His buddies had told him to let it go, but Eugene wasn't about to let this one go. A man had to take a stand, earn his stripes in front of his brothers. He looked down and admired his gleaming equalizer: a military issue .45 automatic. He aimed the large gun at a battered trash can. "Hey, coach," he said adding bitter curses. Then he mimicked firing a lethal burst from the .45 into the can. "You're a dead man."

A Swing and a Miss

Anger rivaled fear for supremacy underneath Jon's carefully monitored external calm as he faced the eight gang members wanting to take over the rec center. Weapons and violence had become commonplace in his school. Jon hated it, but he was becoming less and less shocked at finding a gun on a fourteen-year-old student or breaking through a hysterical crowd to find a kid on a hallway floor spouting blood from a hole the size of a silver dollar in his chest. But it was the impertinence that galled him the most. It leered out at him through the eyes of kids like these who had no respect for authority, no real interest in education and career, and little regard for human life, particularly their own.

After a minute of practice shots, six of the gang members huddled on the court. "We need a few more players," laughed Rattler, a drunk, gaunt kid with tattoos of snakes entwining both arms. Avoiding sudden motion, Jon eased into his path. Rattler stopped three feet from Jon then swung at him, an ill-aimed but potentially vicious blow. The unsuccessful attack brought a chorus of profane cheers from the squad. Rattler charged Jon— swearing, swinging, and fuming, backing Jon closer to the kids he felt he must protect with his life. The fight was on. (To be continued)

Families Divided

Technically, Jon, a high school counselor, was at the rec center only to monitor the basketball courts and break up an occasional scuffle between overheated competitors. Yet in Jon's mind, he was here to substitute for the dads who were missing from their lives. He felt sorry for kids like Robert and Jaleen and Kiki who had never met their fathers and for Ari and Manon whose fathers had recently left home for greener marital pastures.

Jon's sympathy was especially acute this spring break, particularly when it came to the breakup of families. The same personal trauma that had left him without a companion just over a year ago had created an unwanted desert of distance between him and his own two children.

Jon took a deep breath, forcing himself to sound cordial but firm. "May I help you guys?" he asked, slowly approaching the gang members, who stood staring him down from near the entrance. He knew he couldn't take them all on, even if by some miracle they were not armed. The thirty or so kids in the gym, now frozen statues of fear, would be of little help and might even be in greater danger if he tried to be a hero.

The reply came from a big African-American kid in a stained, rumpled army trench coat, baggy fatigue pants, green beret and jackboots. Minus some multiple vulgarities, the kid said, "We're here to play some basketball, dude."

Gang Threatens Rec Center

The noisy rec center became graveyard silent in an instant. There were eight members of the De Soto gang, somewhere between the ages of sixteen and twenty, who were a mix of races--three African-Americans, two Latinos, two Caucasians, and an Asian--all males. They were clad in the latest Valley gang regalia: mismatched military clothing and boots. Like many L.A. gangs, the De Sotos patterned themselves after the maverick inner-city militia, which had unofficially occupied four square miles of south-central Los Angeles for over a year. The tyrannized area—called "the dead zone" by the media—was a hellhole of drugs, prostitution, violence, and murder. Even the Los Angeles Police Department, having lost several officers there, had unofficially conceded the dead zone to the ruthless south-central militia.

Jon, the only adult, sucked a long, slow breath at the prospect of trouble. The De Sotos were known to terrorize kids for their money and valuables—and sometimes just for amusement. If they couldn't frighten their intended victims into submission, they thought nothing of using a knife or gun to carry out their threats. The rough-looking group who had just invaded the gym were probably packing weapons under their bulky trench coats and bomber jackets.

Calling on God

You can begin healing the emotional pain of an unintentional pregnancy at any point. Even though it may be difficult, turn to God in prayer and seek His comfort. He already knows your situation, and He still loves you just as much now as before you found out you were pregnant. Try the following “prayer starters:”

- God, Your Word says that You heal the broken-hearted and bind up their wounds, and I need that right now. I’m feeling like…

- The Bible says that You comfort us in all our troubles, so I need to ask You to comfort me by…

God, Your Word says that I should cast all my anxiety on You. I have so many things on my mind and so many problems and worries. Help me to throw them all onto You, to let You take care of them, to let You carry the burden, and to trust You to work things out better than I could. Help me, please, in the name of Jesus, who loved me enough to die for me. Amen.

The Good News

Even in the difficulties surrounding an unplanned pregnancy and its implications, there is good news:

God’s love for you has not changed. What God told Israel is true about you: “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jeremiah 31:3). And what the psalmist said about God is still true today: “Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; His love endures forever” (Psalm 107:1). God loves you as much today as He did before you became pregnant.

God will use your not-so-good situation for good. Romans 8:28 can be a source of encouragement for you: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” God did not cause your situation, but He is all-loving and all-powerful, and He can bring good out of it for you, your baby and your family (see Genesis 50:20).

Time will help heal your pain. As bad as your sorrow and discouragement may feel right now, it will become easier to handle with every passing day. Psalm 30:5 promises, “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

Regret, Options, Prayer

In order to plan a meeting to tell your parents about your unintentional pregnancy, you need to decide if you want someone to go with you and schedule a time. The following steps should also help:

Express your regret and repentance. Since you are their daughter, your parents will suffer many of the same experiences, emotions, and pressures you will suffer in the coming months. Are you sorry for the difficulties your mistake will put them through in the coming weeks? Express your heartfelt sorrow and regret to them in your own words.

Discuss your options with them. Express and explain your current thoughts on the issues of abortion, marriage, single parenthood, and adoption. Invite their counsel and prayers as you decide whether to raise the baby yourself, marry the father or to give the baby up for adoption. Your parents may also be willing to help you share your news with other family members and with the child’s father and his family. Respectfully ask for your parents’ help and support in the coming months.

Close with prayer. If your parents are Christians, ask them to join you in a time of prayer. Together ask God for His direction and help in the coming months as you deal with all the activities related to pregnancy and the birth of the child.

As you convey respect for your parents’ feelings and a willingness to listen to their concerns and suggestions, you increase the possibility that they will become your helpful supporters in the months ahead. Knowing that your dearest loved ones are on your side will help lift some of the emotional burden from your shoulders.

Telling Your Parents

It is vitally important that you sit down with your parents as soon as possible to tell them about your pregnancy and begin discussing the implications on your life and theirs. This is the part that most teens dread, however, after the initial reaction, it is one of the most helpful. Secrets just compound the mistake. Here are several steps that will help you prepare for and carry out such a meeting:

Decide if you want someone else to go with you. Perhaps you would feel more confident about the meeting with your parents if someone went with you. If you shared your situation with someone like a youth leader, a mature friend or your minister, that person may be willing to go along when you talk to your parents.

Schedule a time to meet at your parents’ earliest convenience. Plan to talk to your parents as soon as possible. You don’t want them to hear your news from another source. Find a time and place for your meeting that will be free from interruptions and distractions. You might say to your parents, “I have something important I want to discuss with you. When could we sit down and talk?”

Be straightforward. Get to the point. Either you or the trusted person who is with you should state clearly to your parents that you are pregnant. Beating around the bush will only make your disclosure more painful for everyone.