Crying in the Wilderness: Why Every Life Matters to Me

 

THE VOICE OF ONE CRYING IN THE WILDERNESS,

‘MAKE READY THE WAY OF THE LORD, MAKE HIS PATHS STRAIGHT.’ -Mark 1:3

Today my heart is broken.

I haven’t watched the video. But a description of its contents is enough to send me reeling. The revelation of a doctor’s extraction of the brain of an aborted fetus while its little heart still beat inside its dying body has pushed me over the edge.

Over the edge of every good reason I had to stay silent. Plunging down the chasm of my vanity, the worry over my image as an author and speaker. Past the safety net of positivism.

I spent the day grieving, just flat-out brokenhearted over what we have become as recent undercover videos of abortion practices and the sale of fetal body parts has revealed the seedy underbelly of the death industry.

Kill. Harvest. Clean up the blood. Dispose of the body.

Go to lunch and arrange another sale.

She eats, wipes her mouth, and says, “I haven’t done anything wrong!” -Proverbs 30:20 (God’s Word Translation)

Over twenty years ago, a doctor in an emergency room told me he didn’t plan to treat my disabled mother’s pneumonia because, in his words, “Her life is useless.” Eighteen years ago, a doctor in Canada wanted us to pull the plug on our paralyzed son because his life would be worthless.

I fought for my mother to live her final years in dignity. I have fought hard for my son to live well in his broken body. Along the way I’ve learned much about this fierce and glorious and fragile breath we call life.

The gift is so beautiful that I even have a hard time taking it from the critters that complicate our country living. I’d rather whisk a spider back outside than squish it. I used to designate all snakes as being either “one-rock” or “two-rock,” meaning the big ones took two rocks to kill. Recently I walked past a little bull snake lying on our rock wall as it cooled off in the sprinkler.

I left it alone. It wasn’t a good morning for anything to die.

Though I have been destined to fight for the lives of those I love, I have long resisted God’s call to speak out against the culture of death publicly, out of fear of being seen as negative or political. No more. I no longer care what anyone thinks of me.

When is silence evil?

A fierce national spirit and reluctance to actively protest the agenda of the Nazis kept the German church largely quiet against the genocide by their leaders. Few Christians had the courage of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German theologian who ultimately was killed by the Nazi regime for his participation in the resistance against Hitler.

Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act. – Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Today genocide is rampant across the globe. Some kill in the name of God. Others kill in the name of ethnic cleansing. In developed countries, we routinely kill the pre-born, the aged, the disabled in the name of compassion. Call it “women’s health” or “death with dignity.” Someone still dies, and someone profits.

Are we any better than Hitler? Or are we any better than a church that, for the most part, kept quiet as people were experimented on and gassed and skinned to make lampshades?

I have always been pro-life. But it became personal for me the day a doctor wanted to dispatch my mother because she was in the way. It became personal for me the day a doctor wanted to dispatch my son because his organs were more valuable to society than his life.

I realize my voice is a small one. It isn’t likely many will even read this post, much less feel compelled to act upon it. But I must add my voice to those rising to fight for compassion. I will fight with my last breath for the lives of those without a voice in this wilderness.

Why does every life matter to me?

It matters to God.

Will you stand with me? Will you educate yourself and speak out and support the families of the voiceless?

Photo Courtesy Erik Thorson 2023