Skip to main content

All life is sacred...

  As I sat down on the grass before this unassuming building, I placed my cell phone next to me on silent. Between putting my phone down and lifting up my hands to grasp them together, I saw a small green caterpillar...no bigger than one of my freckles crawling across my knuckle.
   I was here to pray, not to play with bugs, and as I gathered air into my lungs to blow away this tiny bug, I stopped. Here I was, in front of the only abortive clinic in Tulsa, fulfilling an hour of prayer I signed up for weeks prior, playing with a bug. But it wasn't just a bug.
   Most people know how sensitive I am toward living things. From the largest animal to the smallest green caterpillar, I am a huge proponent of keeping life sacred and alive. I know that some consider me a hypocrite for eating meat when I so desire all animals to live long and healthy lives, but I suppose that they should know...I would never kill an animal. I have mo desire nor the need.
   Having said that, I understand the necessity for the killing of animals for food. And as I watched this caterpillar, I realized how truly sacred all life is. This building, across from me, allows women to legally kill what I believe to be life. And it isn't just the life of a caterpillar or a dog or an endangered animal...no. It is the life of a human being. A life that was created by the combining of two people through the act of sexual intercourse.
   This blog isn't about whether or not this girl was raped or some man lied to her concerning his love for her or if her father or brother took sick advantage of her. No, this is simply about the fact that ALL life is sacred. Do I believe in the act of abortion? Never. Do I personally know people who have had one? Yes. Is there hate in my heart for them? Never. Is there peace for them? Absolutely.
   I have never been in a situation in which I would ever need to consider having an abortion. I pray everyday that I never do. I also pray for those who have to make this decision...because they shouldn't have to. But life isn't perfect. My parents chose life for me, and I may not be everything they wish I was, but I have the opportunity to make decisions that can perhaps bring about change in this world...every human life deserves that opportunity. Every. Single. One.
   I pray that abortion ends. Not just the ones that are done in sterile clinics with doctors and proper nurses, but also (and especially) the ones that are self-inflicted, and those not done under the careful watch of someone who could save them if necessary, and also those that are done by maniacs who consider themselves health professionals. I want all abortion to end...not just the ones done in that unassuming building that I sat across from.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tiger must stay in your backpack...

   I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go.    And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought.  This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality.  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

A goodbye love letter to you...

  I sat across from my dad at lunch, yesterday, and asked him, "Do you know what tomorrow is?" He said, "Yeah. 1 year." And his eyes grew damp. "I'll never forget walking into that room..." He didn't continue. I didn't ask him to. "I'll never forget the police officer banging on my door at 1130 at night..." I didn't continue. He didn't ask me to.  "This journal was given to me several years ago by my children. I know they wanted me to write down my thoughts to get through the rough times I was going through at the time. I did not start this at that time. Why am I starting it now? Well, I only thought I had been through hell back then, but now I realize I didn't have any idea what heartache was until Aug 15, 2010 -"   This is the beginning of one of my mother's journals. A journal she started a little over a month after Andy died. And she wrote it--to him.  "Dear Mother - Today is the day before Mothe...
Post a Comment
Read more

Arithmetic of Purpose

   By nature, humans will, at one point in their life, ask the question, "For what purpose? Why am I here? What am I meant to do?" Okay, maybe they will ask themselves more than 1 question...but at least around the same theme. "Who am I, and why am I here?" It is built in our very DNA. Growing up, I didn't ask this often. I had a loving family who went with the current. Who I was and why I was here was bound up in my place in my family of 4. I was comfy. I was loved. I was secure. But alas...the question presented itself.   I first asked myself this question walking down the streets of Rome. I was alone, I was 21, and I was lost. I had just finished AmeriCorps and felt like I wanted something, but wasn't sure what that was. I had found my faith, at last, and realized that perhaps I wanted to be a bigger part of the Church collective. I felt meaning to my nothingness. I went home with direction. I graduated from college, finally, and started grad school to be...
Post a Comment
Read more