Remember Who You Are
Learning to let go of the lies and live from the truth of the Cross.
She Sits in the Third Row, and No One Knows
She got up this morning and made breakfast for her kids.
She helped her husband find his keys. She got dressed, fixed her hair, and showed up to church looking like she had it together — because she always looks like she has it together. She sang the worship songs. She said amen at the right times.
And the whole time, she was carrying something no one in that building knows about, not even her spouse. Something she has never said out loud. A moment she came so close to — a choice she almost made, a door she almost walked through — and the shame of it has been sitting in the seat next to her ever since.
Maybe that is you?
Maybe you have been sitting in that pew for years, holding your secret like something fragile and explosive at the same time, terrified that if anyone ever found out, they would see you differently. That God already sees you differently. That the woman you almost became — or the choice you made that you cannot take back — has disqualified you from something you cannot quite name but desperately want.
You look fine. You serve in the nursery, lead the Bible study, and smile at the pastor. But inside, you are exhausted from carrying this and exhausted from pretending. Exhausted from striving so hard to be good enough to outrun what you did or almost did or almost let yourself become.
I want to talk to that woman. I want to sit down with you in the third row and tell you what I know to be true.
The Lie You Have Been Living Under
The lie is this: that what happened — or what almost happened — has permanently altered how God sees you. That you crossed a line, or came too close to one, and something in the relationship broke. That you are on the wrong side of grace now. Too far gone. Too compromised. Too complicated for a clean story.
The lie says you can be used by God, but only if you work hard enough. Serve enough. Prove enough. Suppress the memory enough. The lie says healing is for other women. The women with cleaner pasts. The ones who did not almost do what you almost did. The ones who do not wake up at 3 a.m. remembering.
The lie is that you are worthless. The lie is so old, and so loud, and so familiar, that you have started to mistake it for the truth.
What Actually Happened to Me
I know what it feels like to live in this place of lies because I once came to the edge myself. I laid on that cold, lonely table, resolved to follow through with the most painful choice of my life, and to end my pain by taking my own life once I was done. Then, something happened that I cannot explain in any natural terms.
When all hope was lost, Jesus appeared to me and said, “Remember who you are.”
That is all He said. Four words. But those four words shook me back to myself, and I fled. I did not go through with it. I was supernaturally rescued before the procedure was ever performed.
You would think that would be the end of the shame. That I would walk out of that parking lot and into freedom. Sadly, I did not.
For sixteen years, I hid what almost happened, what I had almost chosen it. The fact that I had walked myself to that door. The guilt and shame of how close I had come was enough to swallow me whole. I ran from God. I told myself I was too complicated, too contradictory, too messy for Him to actually want me close to Him again.
When I eventually found my way back, I did what a lot of women do — I got busy. I served. I strived. I became the woman who showed up early and stayed late and checked every box. Martha at full speed, working herself to exhaustion, trying to earn something that was already freely given.
It did not work. I was still empty. The shame was still there.
Then one day Jesus got me to sit still before Him — truly still — and in that quiet, I heard myself say out loud what I had never admitted: I feel worthless.
And He said: You are priceless.
Not eventually. Not after you clean yourself up. Not once you have served enough or suffered enough or proved enough.
Priceless. Right now. As you are. In the worst moment of your story.
That is the God I know. That is the God who sees you in the third row.
You are not too far gone.
I want you to understand something about the women I minister to. They are not all women who almost made a choice. Many of them made the choice. They walked through that door. And they have been carrying the weight of it ever since — in the pew, in their marriage, in the hollow place behind their eyes when they try to worship.
He is not standing at a distance cataloguing your failures. He is not waiting for you to earn back your standing. He is the God who comes looking for you in your hiding place, who calls you by your name in the wilderness, who tells you who you actually are when all you can see is what you have done.
The shame you are carrying — whether it is about a choice you made or a door you nearly walked through — it is not the last word on your life. It is not even close to the last word.
But shame does not release itself. It requires a safe place to be brought into the light. It requires someone who will not flinch, who will not pull away, who will sit with you in the full weight of it and say: I know. And you are still priceless.
This Is Why The Worthy Womb Exist
I started The Worthy Womb because I know what it is to sit in that pew holding the secret. I know what it is to look like you have it together while something is eating you alive inside. I know what it is to run from God, and to run back to Him and immediately start performing instead of actually healing.
And I know what happens when a woman finally lets herself stop running.
This podcast is a safe place for the woman who has never said this out loud. The woman affected by abortion — whether that means she made the choice herself, or she almost did, or she was touched by someone else’s choice and has never healed from it. The woman who is sitting in her church completely alone in her pain even when she is surrounded by people.
This is not a podcast about condemnation. It is not about politics. It is not even really about the choice itself.
It is about you. The real you. The daughter God called priceless when you were in your worst moment. The woman He has not given up on and will not give up on. The warrior He is calling to rise.
You have been sitting in that shame long enough. There is a seat for you here.
Come find it at The Worthy Womb on Substack.
Amy Dial is a prophetic identity coach, certified personal trainer, abortion survivor, and founder of Fit 4 The Kingdom Ministries, Inc. She is the author of “Ring of Fire” and a local leader of 40 Days for Life. Her mission is to help women break free from shame and reclaim their God-given identity in Christ. She ministers out of Southeast Texas and virtually to women everywhere who are ready to stop hiding and start healing. Connect with Amy at theworthywomb.substack.com.