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Real Answers™
Copyright: © 2008 Greg Asimakoupoulos
770 words


By: Greg Asimakoupoulos

In my fifty-five years of life, I’m sure I’ve come across someone who chose to have an abortion sometime in their past, but I’d be hard-pressed to identify them. In all honesty, I don’t recall anyone in my sphere of influence who entrusted me with knowledge of that gut-wrenching choice. But I do know someone who is alive today because his mother chose to carry him to term rather than choosing to abort him. His name is Hugh. He is my wife’s father.

In 1930, Hugh’s teenage mother was trapped in an unintended pregnancy. Although the young woman and her boyfriend loved each other very much, they were not in a position to get married. But neither was she of the mind to conclude her pregnancy prematurely. As she pondered her options, she was convinced that what was growing within her was more than a mass of growing cells. Although she wasn’t a particularly religious person, she believed her expanding body cradled a miniature human being throbbing with life and potential.

Because Hugh’s mother entrusted her blond, blue-eyed, baby boy to a Vancouver orphanage, she never knew just how much potential her son indeed had. The boy was raised in a foster family that eventually chose to adopt him. In spite of the fact that Hugh’s new family did not attend church, the fine print of the child’s placement documents insisted that they provide the boy religious education. And so they did. When Hugh was school age, they dropped him off each Sunday at a local Baptist church where he attended Sunday school and worship services. Although they did not attend with him, they lived up to their end of the bargain. It was at this church Hugh professed personal faith and sensed a calling to become an overseas missionary.

As a teenager, Hugh discovered his interest in reading was accompanied by an equally strong passion for writing. Word pictures filled his mind as observed the world around him. Once, while watching the waves of the Pacific Ocean wash against the driftwood-strewn beach near his home, he noted in his journal that the incoming tide appeared to be like pages turning over in a book. Although his peers did not appreciate his sensitivity, Hugh continued to journal his thoughts.

Following a post-high school romance, Hugh married and began a family. Shortly thereafter he and his wife (and two young children) joined an organization called Wycliffe Bible Translators and moved to Mexico City. Hugh continued to write. After publishing a number of short stories and magazine articles, he eventually wrote a book. It was about a member of an Indian tribe who had converted to Christianity and gave his life to better the lives of his impoverished people. The success of “Manuel” opened the way for Hugh to write another book and then another. Since his first book was published in 1970, Hugh Steven has written more than twenty-five books and countless magazine articles.

Sadly, when the Canadian-born missionary/author was able to trace his family of origin six years ago, he discovered his birth mother had died a few years earlier. More than anything Hugh had hoped to be able to give her copies of his books as well as the satisfaction of knowing that the baby she placed in an orphanage had made something of his life. And although that longed-for encounter never took place, Hugh’s contribution to the world is not overlooked. His achievements are appreciated by four grown children and their spouses, and ten grandchildren. In addition, his mission organization, church, and literary colleagues celebrate the mark Hugh has left on those he has touched.

From the unseen embryo that so easily could have been aborted has come more than a lengthy shelf of books. The clan of which Hugh Steven is patriarch includes two ministers, an international lawyer, three teachers, a mortgage banker, a published poet, an artist, and a concert organist. And though his birth mother might have been surprised at what transpired in Hugh’s life, his heavenly Father wasn’t. According to the Scriptures, our lives are observed by God from the very moment of conception. “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13 NLT).

This month as you take time to recognize Sanctity of Life Sunday, don’t just consider God’s blessing in the life of my father-in-law. Thank God for the hundreds of thousands of others like him who have enriched our world because their individual mothers made the courageous decision to carry their pregnancies to term.


"Real Answers™" furnished courtesy of The Amy Foundation Internet Syndicate. To contact the author or The Amy Foundation, write or E-mail to: P. O. Box 16091, Lansing, MI 48901-6091;

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