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Abortion – a solution in medical emergencies?

Olga Bertram was four months pregnant when she faced another operation for a serious and incurable bone disease. This put the health of her unborn child at risk, and she was pressured to have an abortion. She trusted in God and was not disappointed: He healed her and, although it seemed impossible, gave her a healthy child.

Before we came to Germany in 1997, we lived in Siberia, in the Omsk region. My mother, who belonged to a Pentecostal church, told me many Bible stories during my childhood, and I often heard her pray. This is how the seed of faith was planted in my heart. When she was pregnant with me, she was baptized with the Holy Spirit. She told me that I was chosen by God and that I had to come to God, but I chose a life in the world. During my apprenticeship as a seamstress, I knew that my mother was praying for me and that nothing bad could happen to me.

As I grew older, I married a man from outside the world. With him, God blessed me with seven children. After our marriage, we lived in the village of Blumenfeld on my mother-in-law's farm. She believed in God and belonged to a Baptist church. I always knew that God existed, and deep inside, I longed for Him.

I found no peace, for I felt God knocking at my heart. Difficult years followed: I wanted to serve God, but my husband threatened to divorce me. He was unwilling to live the life my parents had. My mother served God, and my father later converted as well.

Diagnosis: Osteomyelitis

Before my conversion in 1991, I had two operations on my feet. The diagnosis was osteomyelitis. This disease is an inflammation of the bone marrow. The illness came on very suddenly, and the doctors couldn't explain why I became ill, because at that time the disease was still largely unexplored.

In the spring of 1991, I had my first operation on my right foot. Before the surgery, the doctor asked me if he shouldn't just amputate my right leg, because the disease was progressing rapidly and attacking more and more bone. The surgeon had the same condition and had himself undergone multiple operations on his hands and feet. I disagreed with his suggestion, whereupon the doctor assured me that I would be back in the hospital within eight months at the latest.

conversion

In 1991, when the Soviet Union collapsed, one of my sons was serving in the German army in Riga. On the night of March 22nd, God woke me and said, "My child, if you repent tonight, you will save your son." I knelt down, made a sincere act of repentance, and surrendered my life to God. After my conversion, I had many conversations with my mother and mother-in-law, both of whom were believers, and I found myself wondering which church I should join. Since they had differing opinions on the matter, I decided to pray that God would lead me to the church that was right for me.

As I lay on the operating table, I suddenly heard a clear voice speaking to me: "Just believe, just believe. The child will be born healthy."

The last operation

In September 1992, my third operation was scheduled, as I was admitted to the hospital again, just as the doctor had predicted. This time, too, my right foot was affected, as the disease had progressed and spread further into the bones. At that time, I was in so much pain that I could no longer walk. I was just 40 years old and already four months pregnant with my daughter Kristina. She is the sixth of seven children.

The doctors pressured me and advised me to have an abortion because the upcoming operation would last over six hours. This meant there was a risk that the child could be harmed and born with a disability. I told the doctors, "God gave me this child. I accept God's will, but I will not have an abortion." The doctors and professors explained that I was a high-risk patient and that my child would be born with a disability. They said there would be repeated surgeries because the disease would progress so far that I would eventually lose both hands and feet. But I assured them that I would trust God and accept His will.

On the way to the operating room, the surgeon explained that he couldn't give me strong painkillers because of my pregnancy. Calmly, I assured the doctor that I wouldn't need them and wanted to have the surgery without them. I answered "no" to his question about whether I was afraid. Before the operation, I again emphatically demanded that my child be kept alive and forbade the doctors from performing an abortion. The surgeon promised me that nothing would happen without my consent.

As I lay on the operating table, I suddenly heard a clear voice speaking to me: "Just believe, just believe. The child will be born healthy." I replied: "I believe, Lord, I believe. You are with me and you will not leave me." Finally, I fell asleep.

After I fell asleep, I saw my body lying on the operating table. I saw myself standing near the ceiling, observing my body. I could follow the operation and saw seven doctors standing beside me at the operating table. Suddenly, I saw two angels flying around, holding a baby in their arms. I noticed that the baby looked very much like my children. It had black hair, just like all my children, and all at once I realized that this was my child.

Throughout the entire operation, angels flew around with the child in their arms. However, I didn't pay attention to that, but instead watched my body on the operating table. A microscope was brought in. The surgeon cut a piece of flesh from my foot and placed it under the microscope.

After I woke up, I was wheeled to my room. And I still saw the angels flying around with my baby in their arms. There were already six women in the room. One of them was very loud. When I asked her to be quiet because there were angels in the room with my baby, the room fell silent. The surgeon wanted to know if I could still see the angels. I said yes and fell asleep. After waking up, the anesthesia slowly wore off, and unbearable pain set in. I was offered an injection for the pain, but I refused because of the pregnancy.

I was very weak and thought I was going to die. As my senses cleared, I felt intensely thirsty and asked for water. The surgeon then asked the nurse to bring me a bucket of water, which I surprisingly refused, as I only wanted a few sips. The surgeon told me that I had asked for a bucket of water three days in a row, but I didn't remember that.

During our conversation, my gaze fell upon the doctor's arms, which had turned blue. This was probably because I had held him down, something I also couldn't recall doing. The nurse present told me that after my operation, the surgeon had sat by my bedside for three days and nights and hadn't left my side.

The surgeon asked if I had any questions, so I asked him what he had cut off my foot during the operation. I described what I had seen during the surgery, and he confirmed my description of the situation in the operating room with astonishment. He explained that he had sent the removed piece of skin to the university hospital in Novosibirsk for examination. He suspected that I was suffering not only from osteomyelitis but that there was something else going on in my body, which he wanted confirmed.

Then he asked me more questions. I learned that he was writing a doctoral dissertation on my case and therefore had such a strong interest in my illness. He wanted to know if I had really seen angels and told me that throughout the entire operation I had been seeing Jesus Christ, how he came into the world as a child, lived as a young man, and that he would one day return to Earth to judge the world. So we talked about Jesus Christ, and I gave him the address of a Pentecostal church in Omsk.

During my hospital stay, the results from the Novosibirsk University Hospital finally arrived. It turned out that, in addition to osteomyelitis, I also had tuberculosis. I was given a maximum of three months to live. Once again, I was offered an abortion because there was a risk that the child would be born with a disability, which would only cause suffering for me and my child.

I replied again, “I accept it as God leads me. If it is God’s will that I die, then I will die together with my baby. But believe me, I will have a healthy child, and I too will be healed and have healthy legs.” My doctor, who himself suffered from this disease and had already undergone several operations, explained to me that the disease would progress and could even be fatal. But I remained steadfast.

When I was discharged from the hospital, the doctor wished me well and told me that I would be in a lot of pain until I eventually died. Smiling, I replied that I didn't believe that and went home. My husband was very angry about my decision to keep the child, because he too had been in favor of an abortion.

The vision

After my third operation, I had a dream: I was standing outside and saw a large group of brothers and sisters in white robes singing wonderful songs. I wept and told God that I also wanted to be among all these people who sang so beautifully. Then two of the brothers and sisters came up to me from the crowd and told me that they had been waiting for me for a long time. These two brothers and sisters were from the Pentecostal church. My mother-in-law, to whom I told my dream, explained that this was God's answer to my question about which church I should go to, and that's how I came to the Pentecostal church.

Baptism with the Holy Spirit

After my conversion, I naturally wanted to be baptized with the Holy Spirit, but I didn't know how to pray. The older members of our small congregation were all already sealed with the Holy Spirit, and so I was the only one struggling for the Holy Spirit. In my weakness and simplicity, I knelt one day in our barn among all the cattle and began to wrestle. Interestingly, the cattle became quiet during my prayer. However, as soon as I stopped praying, they became noisy again.

That same day, at the evening meeting, an older brother told us that God had revealed to him that God would make us feel His presence that very evening. We began our service with God's Word, as we understood it in our simplicity, and knelt down to pray. As we began to pray, I felt myself spinning, as if I were in a boat, turning in circles. At the same time, I heard a wonderful song. My hands rose of their own accord, and suddenly I understood that God had already sealed me with the Holy Spirit during my prayer in the stable.

The Last Supper

In October, when the harvest was approaching, I was in great pain. My feet felt numb, and I couldn't feel them anymore. At one point, the disease had affected both legs almost up to the knees, and the inflammation was already spreading through my bloodstream. The doctors advised me to have both legs amputated above the knees, as surgery so close to the knee was out of the question. The areas where the amputations would be made had already been marked.

At that time, all our German brothers had already emigrated to Germany, and every few months brothers from Omsk came to us to share communion with us. One day, my father told me that the brothers were coming to celebrate communion and asked if I would like to participate. I told the doctors that I would go to communion first; afterward, they could amputate my feet. Since I couldn't walk myself, my husband drove me to communion and carried me into the house where we gathered.

To this day, I can't remember how my feet got into the bowl. I only remember standing with my feet in the bowl, and the sisters asked who wasn't disgusted by my feet and could wash them. One sister knelt down and washed my feet. That evening, when I was praying at home, I heard a voice say to me, "On the third day, your feet will be healed."

So, on the evening of the third day, I sat in the living room with my children, my husband, and my mother-in-law, who sat opposite me. I had my feet up, and my husband had his legs draped over mine. My mother-in-law asked my husband to take his legs off mine, as I was in so much pain.

With my eyes closed, I reflected on the fact that this was the third day and nothing had happened yet. Suddenly, my husband called out to me to look at my legs. With my eyes still closed, I wondered what my husband wanted from me, since I knew what my legs looked like. I was in a lot of pain. He called out a second time, telling me to look at my legs.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw that everything was gone. My feet were completely healthy. There was no trace of the illness left, only the scars from the operations. My mother-in-law began to cry and said, "Child, God has healed your feet." Together with my children, we knelt down and thanked God for this miracle. My husband, who had witnessed this miracle, left the room. I so hoped that he would now believe in God too. But nothing happened.

Now I had to tell my doctor, who was writing his dissertation on my medical history, that God had healed me and I was healthy. Perplexed, he asked me what he should write. When I told him he had to write that Jesus Christ had healed me, he simply replied that this wasn't real.

The birth

In February, the time finally came. My child was due to be born. Next to the hospital where I had my surgery was a birthing center. The wife of the surgeon who had operated on me last time worked at this birthing center. His wife was a senior physician there, but I didn't know that at the time. When she saw me, she was surprised that I was still alive. Her husband was called, and he too couldn't believe I was still alive. I assured him that I and the baby were doing very well and that things would continue to stay that way.

On February 23rd, my daughter Kristina was finally born. When she was born, many doctors came, laid her on a table, and examined her. She had long, black, magnificent hair, just like in my dream earlier. After the examination, it was confirmed that I had given birth to a perfectly healthy child.

By God's grace, I had another healthy daughter four years later. When my two youngest daughters converted and told my husband, he accused me of not raising them properly, and my older children also blamed me for the path my youngest daughters had chosen. They are both healthy, have learned professions, and most importantly, they both serve God and are serving Him as missionaries.

Kristina has already served in Ghana for several months, and her next mission field is a refugee camp in the war zone of South Sudan, where she will work together with Klara, my youngest daughter. I have placed my daughters in God's hands and blessed them, for long before He chose them for this service, He prepared my heart for it, and so I can confidently entrust them to Him.

Comfort and hope

Looking back, I didn't cry or complain when God tested me in all of this. I accepted it from God's hand and was certain that His will and His way were the best for me, even if it meant living without hands and feet. I didn't have the faith on my own that God would give me a healthy child or even heal me; God alone, in His great grace, gave me this faith.

I realized that this wasn't something to take for granted when, in our village in Omsk, there was another boy and a girl besides myself who suffered from the same illness as me. After my healing, they called me and wanted to know the name of the doctor who had made me well. When I testified about how Jesus had healed me, they couldn't believe me. Both of them are still ill to this day and are now in wheelchairs.

I have often had very difficult times in my life, because God tested not only me but also my family. Of my seven children, three serve the Lord, and yet I have a living hope that God will also knock at the hearts of my husband and my children who are not yet converted and will do His work in His time. When I need comfort, I often read Jesus' prayer in the 17th chapter of John and also Psalm 23, which gives me strength. These Bible passages strengthened me especially at the beginning of my Christian journey.

Today I am 69 years old. Twenty-nine years have passed since the surgeries, and I still have healthy legs and I am doing well. God has completely healed me, and the illness has not returned.

We are all tested by God and often struggle with faith, but God also helps us out of our difficulties. It's important to understand that in life we only encounter what God's grace allows. Everything He does is good for us, even if we don't always immediately understand His ways.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Olga Bertram

Municipality of Ulmen