The Bible warns us that Satan, the “Father of Lies”, is a powerful enemy. He is quick to exploit our vulnerabilities. He sees how sin has left us empty and void of hope. It is then that he offers us a counterfeit for the things we most desperately long for and waits for us to take his bait.
Jennifer is a living example of both the power of Satan’s deception and the awesome supremacy of the true power of the living God. A walking miracle, she is quick to share her story with anyone in hopes that others will be brought into the light. Even the darkest details bring her no shame because she knows God has redeemed it all.
Growing up, Jennifer was surrounded by a profound sense of loneliness. This feeling would follow her through life and lead her to dark places in a desperate attempt to fill the void and feel the light of love and belonging.
“I grew up with parents who were emotionally unavailable and absent,” Jennifer said. “I had no guidance or boundaries. I learned early on that the only thing I had to lean on was my survival instincts and experiences.”
After her parents divorced, Jennifer moved in with her dad. The pervasive sense that she was alone in the world was ever-present. Without anyone to help her navigate the murky waters of adolescence, she became pregnant after a hook-up and gave birth to her daughter. She dropped out of school and started searching for a job.
“I saw the ad for Trust Women in Wichita while scrolling on Indeed,” she said. “I googled it and learned that it was an abortion clinic. There were no red flags for me. I just wanted a job at the time.”
Jennifer was scheduled for an interview. As someone who depended on drugs and alcohol to manage the emotional black hole within her, this interview would serve to help her ignore any red flags that might have been glaringly obvious otherwise.
“One of the first things the clinic director told me was that they never did drug tests,” she said. “I remember how great I thought that was. I was a total stoner, and I was relieved. Now I can clearly see that she was feeling me out.”
Jennifer was ultimately offered the job at Trust Women as a scheduler. The fact that she was bilingual was a massive bonus for them.
“I was so excited the first day,” she said. “I finally got a job! I was watching training videos to try to learn what we did there. I remember asking the other girls questions, and they refused to even look at me, and they completely ignored me. It was bizarre. Still, I was excited to have a job and even felt good that I might be helping women. I tried to ignore the drama and cattiness despite how uncomfortable it made me.”
Jennifer soon learned that this workplace would be like no other she had ever experienced or imagined.
“When Roe v. Wade was overturned, we were not scheduling since we didn’t know what Kansas was going to decide,” she said.
Instead of continuing to “help women,” the things she saw and participated in at work were outrageous at best.
“We got high at work every day. Plan B was readily available like candy for staff in the bathrooms or straight from the shelves.”
“At the time, I just thought that this was the most chill workplace,” she said. “Now I cringe at how toxic and unprofessional it was. I now clearly see that the staff did not care about patients or each other. When I was there for six months, I received a bonus. I thought it was awesome.”
As a single mother without a diploma who was being consumed by her substance abuse issues, Jennifer could not believe her luck. She was now making $19.19 an hour, more than she had ever made. The hold that Trust Women had on her was far more than financial or even substance-related. Jennifer finally felt the crushing weight of loneliness and isolation lift.
“My only friends were in the clinic,” she said. “I thought they were my tribe. My sisters. I was sure that we were going to do life together.”
Looking back, Jennifer recognizes how the toxicity of the clinic attracts a specific type of person.
“It seems like everyone had some type of vulnerability, it could be addiction, emotional, or financial issues – often all three. Every single person was abusing some type of substance at work. We smoked weed, got drunk, and snorted coke. Trust Women was not a regular job.”
Jennifer was often confused by the conflicting messages she received from her co-workers about their activities. While she could see with her own eyes the complete lack of regard for patients and staff alike, at the same time, she was constantly receiving mixed messages about the integrity of their work.
“They would tell me that we were doing the Lord’s work by helping these women who were not in a position to have children,” she said. “I ate it up. I took the bait and allowed myself to be formed by the culture of the clinic.”
In September of 2023, Jennifer became pregnant. As a single mother with no support, she did what the clinic had taught her to believe was the best thing and scheduled an abortion at her clinic.
“I didn’t tell anyone other than my co-workers,” she said. I felt safe going through this procedure with them. They were my people. Why wouldn’t I trust them? Another worker drove me home. I was still loopy from the meds. We stopped for alcohol, and I called my dealer for weed. I was so messed up. I finally passed out.”
The next morning, even the substances could not keep reality from catching up with Jennifer.
“When I woke up, I just broke down,” she said. “I have never felt so alone. I could not share this with my only friends from the clinic because I was only allowed to feel like I had done a good thing. The father was in another relationship with twins on the way. He didn’t care. I remembered when I was pregnant with my daughter. My dad was so mad that he ignored me for my entire pregnancy. I knew better than to go to my family for help. I wondered why I felt so broken if I had done the best thing.”
Jennifer could not rally and brush this aside. No substance was going to bail her out this time. This was different.
“I had a complete breakdown,” she said. “I stayed in bed all day grieving. I was not mentally, emotionally, or physically okay. Something was so wrong. I texted my manager to let them know that I would not be in that day. She immediately responded to let me know that they needed me there. I told her that I was not okay, but she reiterated that they needed me at work.”
Jennifer was the central scheduler and one of the only bilingual staff members who worked at the front desk. Since Kansas resumed performing abortions, the phone rang from the time she arrived at work until the phones were shut down.
“We all hated it,” she said. “We stayed in our cars to prepare to come in. The environment was so terrible. After my abortion, I was forced to come in immediately. I was having a complete breakdown. I was crying at work and was not stable. My co-workers would just walk right by me. I felt so alone and heartbroken. No one even asked if I was okay or needed anything. They simply didn’t care.”
Jennifer continued to cope the only way she knew how. She smoked weed, drank, and snorted coke.
“I now know that God had a way out for me. At the time, I didn’t see it like that, but now I am grateful.”
Jennifer’s divine exit plan was implemented following a night of partying gone wrong with her co-workers.
“As usual, that night we were all using weed, coke, and tons of alcohol,” she said. “We were at my apartment. We were also snorting Adderall.”
After sneaking into her apartment building’s pool, Jennifer blacked out. When she came to, she was in a physical fight with one of her best friends from the clinic.
“She kept trying to hit me and fight me as she asked me where her Adderall was and accused me of stealing it. I was so confused. I remembered nothing. I could not say for sure that I took it or I didn’t.”
Later, she would learn more details about that night. While in a total blackout, Jennifer drove her friends across town to a co-worker’s apartment to pick up more Adderall. When they couldn’t find it, Jennifer was accused of stealing it. She was told that she was driving all over the road. Someone else drove her car back.
“I was so confused. While I didn’t remember taking it, I knew I could have. The girl finally said not to worry about it. I was trying to keep the peace. These were my only people. I did not want to lose them.”
When Monday morning approached, Jennifer was ready to put it all behind her.
“When I got to work, I was met with silence,” she said. “Even my closest friends would not talk to me. They would not even look at me. I was so uncomfortable.”
The silent treatment continued for the rest of the week. This triggered something within Jennifer. She had felt alone her entire life. During her time at the clinic, as unhealthy as it was, she had been deceived into thinking that she had finally found people who would love her unconditionally. The reality of her situation hit her hard.
“The anxiety and hurt were so real,” she said. “I truly believed that they were my sisters. I have never felt so betrayed. Everything in the clinic shifted. Nothing was the same, and suddenly, I didn’t know what my role was or what rules we were playing by. It was total chaos, and we were turning on each other.”
After posting something about Plan B, a common occurrence, Jennifer was summoned to the manager’s office and fired.
“I said nothing. I signed the papers and left. My entire social circle immediately cut me off. No one reached out. I lost my job, my friends, I lost everything.”
Jennifer now sees this as one of the biggest blessings in her life. God had orchestrated this break with the clinic so she could let go of the false relationships and find an authentic relationship with Him and his people.
“I started praying, or what I thought of as praying at the time,” she said. “I would see scriptures that people would post on Instagram. I was still so deep in my sin, but they brought me comfort.”
Jennifer was frantically looking for a job so she could care for her daughter.
“I was getting interviews, but no call backs,” she said. “In August, I started taking classes to get my high school diploma. I will never forget August 10, 2024. I woke up so sick and hungover. I just got on my knees. I was so sick of myself. I was tired of this cycle. I was disgusted that my daughter was seeing me in my active addiction. I had no family. No friends. No support. That day, I cried out to the Lord.”
Jennifer started to feel something utterly foreign to her at the time. She felt peace.
“I felt a shift,” she said. “I was new to Jesus, but I just knew that everything was different. I knew I wanted help and that I could not help myself. I was still alone, but I felt peaceful when I shouldn’t have.”
Jennifer was hungry to know more about the God she had desperately reached out to. She began watching sermons on YouTube, googling how to pray, and learning anything she could.
“I knew He was there,” she said. “I was still in my darkness and shame, but He was with me. I completely surrendered.”
When she saw a position advertised at a faith-based pregnancy center, she applied.
“I thought that there was no way that they would hire me since I came from Trust Women,” she said. “Still, I felt led to apply. I was surprised when the manager spoke to me with pure curiosity instead of judgement. When she asked me why I wanted to work there, I told her that I had met this guy named Jesus and He led me to apply.”
A few weeks later, Jennifer heard back from the center. They offered her the job.
“I fell to my knees and thanked God,” she said. “I had spent an entire year unemployed. I was relying on unemployment, which didn’t last long. I had to wait for food stamps every month to feed my child and myself. I got $200 a month from the state. I was struggling so badly. I had no friends, no family, and was rejected at every turn. Then, this faith-based center wanted to hire me.”
Jennifer embarked on her new beginning in a life-affirming career on November 4th. She kept thinking about something the center manager had told her during her interview.
“They told me about And Then There Were None (ATTWN),” she said. “I knew nothing about them. I was hesitant because I had told them in my interview that I quit instead of being fired. I finally reached out to ATTWN in December. I was truthful and was met with understanding. I didn’t know how many of the Quitters were also fired, many of them for trying to do the right thing. I did tell my new employer the truth about my firing. The Holy Spirit was nudging me. I could not sleep. I was shocked that they continued to say how brave I was. I just laughed and told them, ‘You people just insist on seeing the light in everything, I guess!’”
With her new co-workers and ATTWN rooting her on, Jennifer continued to strive for better for herself and her daughter.
“I felt so supported in my sobriety and my schooling,” she said. “I wanted to do life the right way. I found a church and was baptized in February. When I received my high school diploma, the center threw me a party. I was not used to being celebrated. Since I surrendered to God, my life has completely changed. I can’t make this stuff up. I was in a position where I had no choice but to seek Him out. He was faithful and pulled me out of the darkness. I tried and failed to get sober many times. God did it for me when I was in my room, broken and on my knees. He rescued me.
Jennifer’s young daughter remains a powerful reminder to her to stay close to God and maintain her sobriety.
“One day, my daughter told me that I acted weird when I was drinking,” she said. “Now, she knows that I don’t drink anymore. God knew what he was doing when He gave her to me. Our entire dynamic is different. Today, she loves Jesus.”
Jennifer now enjoys the love, support, and closeness of her church, the pregnancy center where she works, and her tribe at ATTWN. The connection that had eluded her for her entire life, and that she thought she had found at the clinic, sustains and uplifts her each day as she lives with her new community of believers.
“People care about me and uplift me. It is the complete opposite of Trust Women. I feel so encouraged. All glory to God! Surrendering to Him and walking in obedience has been a game changer.”
When an abortion minded woman comes through the doors of her center, Jennifer is in a unique position to connect with them.
“I can tell them that I have been there,” she said. “I can empathize and know what they’re feeling and thinking. I made the choice of terminating my baby. It was a choice I made out of fear and feeling like I would have no support or resources. I am a single mom already. Having another baby with no help would be even harder. I felt so alone and lonely in making my decision. I felt even worse afterwards. I had no one to talk to about it. I wish I had had someone tell me it was going to be okay. But, since I worked at the clinic, and the culture, it seemed normal and like the right thing to do. I know now that it’s not true. I just wish I had met Jesus earlier in my life, because I would have known then that with Him, there’s always a way.”
Though her story is full of pain, rejection, and regret, Jennifer is willing to bare it all.
“The only good that can come of my sin and shame is that I can reach into the darkness and help someone else. That is why I put everything out there. If you struggle with addiction, have had an abortion, or work at a clinic, my life is an open book to help you know God can do for you what He did for me.”