How the Pro-Choice Agenda Failed Us: Abortion is Not the Answer

Right to Lifers are marching in Washington. They march because they are on a mission. The mission is to save babies, to save innocents, to save lives, to save baby Americans. Women and Men are marching to create awareness and to stir others to action, to stand, rather than be silent, because all lives matter, native American lives matter, black lives matter, white lives matter, unprotected vulnerable lives matter, babies with disabilities matter. They march because all babies deserve a chance at life and all should be insured the right to be born.

We as a nation are protecting a practice that flies in the face of who we are as human beings. The “right” to abort another human being defies our very right to exist. There is a reason we pledge these words …with liberty and justice for all. Let’s do right by all our children, even the unborn members of our civil society.

-This is an opinion piece-

 I’m so sorry.

Dedicated to all those who forfeited their lives because we failed them.

We cannot fail another generation.

What they didn’t tell you before the abortion

Logic, when streamlined according to what is in your own “best” interest, can be a deception. What they didn’t tell you before the abortion was the truth. They withheld important information about the procedure. They used faulty logic to distort truth. You didn’t get to see your baby’s image on the screen. You didn’t see the fingers, toes and beating heart, the baby sucking his thumb. One baby lives…if the mother says so, and another baby didn’t stand a chance…when they’re a throw-away baby.

Which kind of baby would you want to be?

We have a great ability to distort truth, to justify actions and to white-wash consequences–especially those that gratify self-interest or protect the status quo. We also bury those facts we wish to hide and that no one knows about.  Shame, guilt, fear of condemnation, disapproval, intimidation, fear and a host of other reasons cause us to remain silent on subjects that matter. That is when the louder voice overpowers the weaker voice.

I have been silent too long.

Here’s how the scenario often plays out. An unwanted pregnancy at a wrong time with the wrong person can lead to a wrong choice being made.

To terminate an unplanned, unwanted pregnancy is the choice that some “logically” say is a right choice because of the “wrong” situation. They say, “What about the woman’s future?” They want the pregnant girl, teen, young woman or mother with children to believe that to do otherwise “in their situation” is not in the game plan and would be a wrong choice for them.

Does the unborn baby girl think so?

What about her future? It’s looking bleak.

Do these women have any choice?

Only one person, ultimately, has a choice in this scenario.

The woman with child, the “mother” of the baby, will determine whether or not this child goes to term. The woman carrying the baby in her womb is vulnerable to public opinion (does the public value all life?). She is vulnerable to the opinions of others in her world even if they don’t know because she keeps her news to herself. She is subject to the social mores of social society. She listens to the voice that is speaking loudest, what is being said in the public square, by her teachers and on social mediums. Her man may not “want” this baby. After all, he doesn’t think he needs to shoulder the extra responsibility of supporting a child, or even the constant tie to the baby’s mother. She may feel she has no choice, or she is pressured to get rid of “it.” Maybe she never planned to raise a child. Abortion, for this way of thinking, is the easiest answer to the problem.

But someone will pay.

A baby, a grandchild, a brother, a sister, a niece, a nephew will pay with their life for that woman’s “choice.”

Some choices are best not considered. Innocent lives will never be given the gift of seeing the blue sky. They will never know the warmth of a loving embrace. They will never feel the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day and the delight of watching bubbles float in the air. They never had a chance. Some could care less, and pro-choice advocates are saying that that’s okay.

But it’s not okay.

When did we as a nation quit caring about “some” lives? When did we hide behind terms like Women’s Reproductive Health? Was it when they told us to quit caring about the unborn fetus…in certain situations? That we get to make that choice? The bully in the abortion industry forgot that you have a conscience that will live with you the rest of your life. They didn’t tell you that you are killing your baby. They didn’t tell you that you’re killing your daughter (where are HER rights?). Where are his rights? They didn’t tell you that the abortion is painful for the baby inside of you. They didn’t tell you that when you allow one child to be aborted, you’re likely to have another abortion later on.

It was a cover-up. That baby wanted to live. But someone else didn’t want it to live. The baby was powerless. Some post abortive women are traumatized at the time or relive the trauma when their conscience allows itself to awaken to the fact. It is not just a procedure. Deep inside they know the truth, no matter what the other voices are saying.

They didn’t tell you that part of yourself dies after an abortion.

They lied to YOU.

How do I know?

I have not had an abortion. However, over the years several women have told me about their abortions and a few men have told me about their wife, sister, or girlfriend’s abortion(s). My heart is grieved when I listen to women share the reasons they aborted the flesh of their own flesh. It is always a hush-hush conversation, never to be repeated.

I see the tears in their eyes.

With painful emotion, they disclose their past choice(s) to me. I feel the deep sadness they have felt, which has haunted them for five, fifteen, or thirty years. I hear the lies they believed or told themselves about why they thought it was okay at the time or seemed justified in some way. Others don’t go there. They never wanted the abortion. They caved. Someone put pressure on them or they felt they would lose their partner or reputation or parents’ support. Their eyes tell me a story. I see raw pain. I see regret. I see a broken heart. I see sorrow and suffering. Sometimes I see denial, or I see deadness. I listened to the man who told me about his girlfriend’s abortion and how he begged her to let him raise the child. Despite his pleas, she terminated the pregnancy. The pain is still there some forty years later. Sorrow and regret lived with him all these years hence.

Self-protection, image, or pressure from another person of importance, from their significant other, family of origin or church family, influenced them, or influenced you. A decision was made to abort the baby before it saw the light of day.

A lie was believed. The lie says that the end justifies the means.

This “choice” was believed and accepted as the only and best way out. Sadly, in their inner soul, they either justified the action or they bore the heavy stain upon their heart. Yet I can say, God was there at the time of the loss of life. He felt the pain from this act of perdition with His precious, holy, bleeding heart. Your suffering little one was healed, made whole, and welcomed into His arms on the day the baby bore your shame and hid your guilt.

Shame on the law of the land that did not protect you from the pressure to abort and your baby from harm. The court of laws have protected the mother’s choice but abandoned, condemned, the weakest and most vulnerable members of our society.

Stories that should have been shared are missing. Intimidation? Newsworthy articles about pro-life, walks-for-life, are never covered. Ignored? Grisly atrocities including late-term aborted babies, murdered, stacked in a back room, and found at an abortion doctor’s clinic, barely makes a blip on the screen and is limited to local coverage. Buried? Puppy mills get more coverage than that. Baby parts harvested and sold, down-played by a nationally funded agency, gets minimal outrage and then goes blank. Messy? Other human rights violations get covered, why not this? “See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil?” As I said earlier, we as a nation are protecting a practice that flies in the face of who we are as human beings.

We should be outraged.

But no, the culture of death lives on. And the culture of life is down-trodden, silenced or muted, and ignored.  Bad things happen to people who speak out about this injustice. They are shunned, intimidated, receive retribution (as may I). This callousness toward a sector of human life has bred generations of people who have believed a lie, a lie that devalues the sanctity of human life. As a society, we have chosen to embrace an activity that pierces our collective soul and damages us as a nation. There are two major players here. An educational system, for one, and a social system that have promoted a dual message concerning life. It contains gradient views, a hierarchical view concerning human worth and value. Darwin would have been pleased. The survival of the fittest. There is a bigger picture here than may be realized by our society at large.

It grieves my heart.

There is hope.

I would not have you feel that there is no hope because of the guilt from the past.

There is always hope.

Christ bore your pain and He bore your sorrow. He was there when it happened and was grieving for both you and your sweet little one. Christ loved you with a love that forgives, cleanses and heals. God loves you. Come to Him. He will forgive you. Let Him heal you.

This is not only about terrible sins that are easily recognized. It also about self-righteous pride and arrogance, which are matters of great sin and wrong-headed behaviors. These must be acknowledged and grieved through a sorrowing process.

God must be asked to reveal what are our own areas of guilt. Then we can deal and heal.

Make the right choice.

Let’s spread the word. Every baby has a right to live, even the unwanted ones. There are many people who would love to raise your child if you can’t or don’t have the ability to do so. There are those who will love your child.

Be brave. Be courageous. Be loving. Choose to save a life. Choose to help save other lives. Choose life. It’s the right thing to do.

Your baby thanks you. Other babies thank you.

God bless you.

No regrets.

Dedicated to all those who forfeited their lives because we failed them.

I first penned this post in 2014. I updated and expanded it for 2017 by including recent information and stronger statements. People are haters these days. I expect some will hate me and this article. I have to admit to being intimidated by the loudest voices out there. They condemn people, like me, who do not share their contemporary views. They say we don’t care about the mother, or we don’t care about the child once it is born. That may be true in some instances, but not so in the majority. There are agencies and church people and loving people who are helping mothers who face obstacles like unplanned pregnancies. There is much more to be done, though.

I suggest, to the post abortive woman, counseling at a care center that specializes in helping traumatized women. Many of these counselors share the same wounds as you and are active in helping others find their own freedom. Some of the counselors are post-abortive, as well. My local community has a great resource center, skilled in helping women overcome the pain from their past. They offer classes, where community fosters trust and support. I know some of the counselors. They are warm-hearted and understanding. You need not fear sharing your story with them. Christian-based counselors will have encouraging insights and they will love you. They understand the pain.

Last, but not least, I suggest you contact the greatest Counselor of them all, the Lord Jesus. Like He did with the woman at the well, He accepts and transmits value to all people. Christ heals hearts, and He longs to heal your heart. No one could love you more than He does. Accept His healing grace. When you look at a crucifix you see Jesus with His arms wide open. They’re open for all of us. By His stripes and wounds, you are being healed. Come to Jesus. He awaits you. He will love you and wipe away your tears.

It Was A God Thing: When Real Life Happens

“It was a God thing.” That phrase rolls off the tongue in a hurry like it was meant to be. But, really, sometimes it is a God thing. I love it when that happens. Shall I share with you three ones that recently happened to me? I think so. Hopefully they will encourage you. God is at work in both the big and little things in our daily lives.

My Recent Encounters with a “God Thing”

God Thing 1:  I’m with my Dad at the doctor’s office a few days ago. I met him there and it is a routine visit. We are both sitting in the lobby. I’m busy asking him questions when his voice hushes. “I don’t know where my car key is.” Dad is patting his pockets and truly mystified. I offer to go check by the car. The doctor’s office is a fair distance from the entry doors. I look around and then I spy the key. It’s in the car on the floor. The car is unlocked. I grab the key and then head back in.

I see a problem ahead.

As I am walking, I notice a frail elderly couple going toward the office. He can’t quite make it or go any further because he is unsteady on his feet. She is upset with him and frazzled because he isn’t using his walker and left it in the car. She is trying to help him, but it is a tough go. They’ve made it to a bench by the exterior wall but it’s obvious they’re stuck. I hurry inside and tell one of the receptionists that an elderly couple is outside and he’s having difficulty. I ask her to take a wheelchair out for him, which she promptly does. When my father is done, I notice the elderly gentleman in a wheelchair in the lobby.  I immediately feel grateful that I was at the right place at the right time. I wonder how long they would have been stuck if I hadn’t come along. I thank God that Dad misplaced the key so I would go outside to retrieve it, in order to help this couple. I tear up when I think of it; the couple seemed so helpless.

God Thing  2:  My plate is full. I’m overwhelmed. Plus I’ve been a bit down because of four emotion-tugging areas in my life, all are important to me: church, finances, parents, and writing. Church stuff is always sticky. This one has been unusual and I’ve been trying to get through it without sinning or becoming resentful. People have been calling me almost every night, and some days I’ve had as many as three calls (not just church-related, some with women I’m speaking life to). My voice is hoarse from talking. Some calls last over two hours. People are upset and I am feeling the burden of that.

Their burden becomes my burden.

Mother had a worrisome health issue that landed her in the hospital over the holidays. The concerns for my parents are ongoing. It’s that way as your folks age and troubles come frequently. And there’s the practical side of things. The income I was counting on to carry me through most of this year failed to materialize when the walnut orchard I farm had a double whammy; it had crop damage and walnut prices were low. The crop tanked, which means a lot in my world. It didn’t cover the expenses incurred while raising the crop. I’m having to look for work now.

Then the writing.

With all the cross-currents and darkness, it has been hard to move forward to finish the books I have been writing. They’re waiting on stand-by, not going anywhere fast. It is like I am operating in a fog. My desire to podcast seems remote. On top of this, I have stepped up to the plate at church because it is in a time of transition and there are needs. I am teaching children in two areas and leading the women. Well, because of all this, I have been struggling. It is hard to be yourself when the burdens stack up.

Where does God come in?

My good friend and I had a Women’s Ministry breakfast to put on and a meeting to lead. We were both cooking for the event and I would be presenting our Women’s Ministry outlook for the year to a new group of women. Two days before the event, my friend offers to purchase all the ingredients for the breakfast and to cook the casseroles and sides at the church. Whew! I was planning to get up at 4:30 to cook at home and get my part done. I was praising God because a prayer had been answered that I hadn’t even prayed. I was soooo grateful for her help.  We cooked together at the church and I only prepared one easy dish at home. My co-leader is such a good friend to me. God saw my overwhelmed spirit and He nudged her to help me. Isn’t that just like God? By the way, I am doing much better this week. While talking with my oldest son, who is in Japan  right now, I felt the depressed emotions lift. My head is clear now and my spirit is happy. That probably was a God thing, too.

God Thing 3:  It was toward the end of October in 2016, just recently. I was looking at the figures for the first two crop payments from the two varieties of walnuts in the orchard I farm. I was in shock. Combined, they were less than you can imagine. Neither was enough to cover the sprays, let alone the other expenses that occur in raising a crop—that I had paid with the prior year’s earnings. Truly, I couldn’t believe it. I’d not yet received the invoice for drying and hulling the walnuts nor had I received the invoice for harvesting the nuts. I’d been worrying about paying those bills–sometimes waking up in the middle of the night with the worry in the forefront–whether there would be enough income, because the crop was light and the prices were down.

Not a good combination.

I wasn’t expecting there to be so much off-grade in their quality. We had done all the right things and were timely in doing them. It wasn’t the farming practices. It wasn’t neglect. I had already used up the funds set aside to get the job done. As in past years, I counted on the fall income to carry the harvest expenses. I wasn’t expecting to make piddly on the crop. It had come to the point that I knew something needed to happen soon or I would have to use a good portion of money tied up in investments. My prayer that day was sincere (and a little bit desperate). I told God it didn’t look good, that something needed to happen or there was not going to be enough income to cover the expenses that were coming.

I asked God to provide for the need.

I said that if He wanted me to use the investment money, I would do what He wanted me to do. (Yes, I talk frankly with God. He is my trusted friend). I didn’t want to use that money, though, because I have some big expenses coming up on my home property that need doing relatively soon (tree removal and hooking up to the city sewer). There was this peace and calm that attended me as I prayed, although I did feel emotional. A week later one of my siblings sent me a check for a large amount. I had quietly given money a couple of times to this sibling and family during their hard times and now they were returning the favor. I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t want to accept it. In fact, I called them up and said I didn’t think I could. But it was gift, not to be returned. They had had years of trying to make ends meet ever since the 2008 recession had affected their business. Tears, lots of tears.I knew it was a gift of love.

My heart was touched.

It was just enough to pay a property tax bill and for the drying and hulling of the walnuts. Next we come to the last week in December. It was time to pay that other large bill, to the exact amount. I waited as long as I could. On that day, I was going to the financial institution to cash in investment money to cover the cost when I got a text telling me to hold up. My parents, who I lease from, decided to cover the expense to help share in the burden caused by the loss. They said it was the right thing to do. Again, I was grateful and wished it hadn’t been necessary. I’m still overwhelmed by their helpfulness. I never asked them to help me. I asked God instead. You see, God cares, and people care. God moves us to do the right thing even when we may not realize it is Him.

Closing thoughts.

It’s interesting how we really don’t know what is going on in other people’s lives. This has been a very personal and open blog for me. I usually talk in generalities on purpose, to protect others and those in my family. This time I saw it differently. My burdens are real to me and they impact me. I’m not superwoman. Even though I love God and live to serve Him, I struggle with life and struggle with the human factor. I get sidetracked and get walloped by incidents I didn’t see coming.

When life happens, God happens.

He is there somewhere in the mix. You have to look for Him or you’ll chalk it up to ordinary incidentals. Don’t do that. Look for where God is at work . . . and then celebrate His goodness. God loves it when we thank Him.

Bless you.

What is your “God Thing” story?