I’m so thankful I wasn’t aborted. But that is an understatement. I can enjoy drinking coffee, laughing at the funny parts of my favorite movies, reading Jane Austen, and using my hands to crochet. That’s because my mother gave me the gift of life. (Thanks, Mom!)
It used to be that abortion wasn’t commonplace. Even if the tiny piece of life inside a woman’s womb was already unloved, unwanted, or an “accident”, it was taken for granted she’d give birth to the baby. Eventually, Planned Parenthood became a forceful and vocal driving force crusading the “fight to uphold access to safe, legal abortion”.
Now, abortion is a fact taken for granted, even by Christians. That’s not because we agree with it or tolerate it, but because it’s become a household word, a real thing that happens every hour. If this statement falls flat or doesn’t feel real to you, you need to drive it home by looking at what’s happening in real time here. This isn’t dollars and cents accumulating as you pump your gas; this is human life disappearing.
A baby in the womb is scientifically referred to as a “fetus” to ignore the stark truth of its being a human. Abortion has been granted the humane-sounding label “pro-choice”. (Who dares to be against anything labeled “pro”? People give you a lot of grief for that.) Yet we are pro-life, creating a battle between two camps that both sound positive, which in reality is good vs. evil. It’s all black and white, with no gray or shades of gray involved.
“Choose life,” God tells us. Reader, you and I both have something in common: Our mothers chose life. That’s a precious thing. Now, not only do we have a life to live, but a chance to defend the innocent lives of others. Life will always be endangered in different forms—for instance, via wars and terrorist attacks. But perhaps worst of all, because it is so subtle, is abortion.
Think of the millions of infants and millions more that will be aborted. Yet the abortion clinics see life inside the womb only as cells. About as personal as they can get is “fetus”, when instead, they should see in the goopy, innocent eyes of a newborn baby a life meant to be lived. Abortion clinics say these nameless blobs of cells don’t need to see the light of day or stifle the planet, don’t need to ruin the mom’s life or embarrass the dad or boyfriend.
But each baby is life. It needs to see the light of day and it needs to be part of the population. It needs a name, a mother’s love, a father’s leading and protection. It has a distinct personality. It will grow to have a favorite color, a special way of smiling, and a talent that makes him or her stand out in the world.
Abortion is murder, and can’t be called anything short of that. We can’t soft-pedal it, tolerate it, excuse it, or merely give sympathy in the form of jutting out our lower lips. What are each of us personally doing to back up the statement “I’m pro-life”? We can, for one thing, pray fervently for the salvation of the doctors and staff at abortion clinics. Pray that they will remember that their mothers chose to give them life.
I’m absolutely, unquestionably, most definitely thankful I wasn’t aborted. And I am excited to meet all of those babies in heaven.
