This morning as I nursed the baby, I turned from marching through the genealogies of 1 Chronicles to Habakkuk. He has an interesting name, I remember thinking.
He laments the ungodly culture he is living in the midst of and pleads with the Lord,
O Lord, how long shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear! even cry out unto thee of violence, and thou wilt not save! (1:2)
I understand. I long to see the Lord’s infants, nestled in their mother’s wombs, come to life full of days. Instead I am acutely aware of knives, buckets, suction devices. Life ripped out. I cry from the deepest parts of my spirit. O Lord, how long……
It wasn’t so long ago that I would have easily considered an abortion had the opportunity (that is, an *unwanted–or untimely–pregnancy*) showed up. I am guilty of putting myself and my own wants and needs above the people I love best who are here, so it isn’t a stretch to forgo care for someone I haven’t even met. But God….thanks be to GOD!…revealed my thoughtless sin to me before I did any such dreadful thing. I am thankful. But humble enough to know it could have, would have, easily been me.
I do not hate women who have abortions. I anguish for them instead, for I know the truth will come and they will know deep sorrow. I truly fear for those who hide the facts, who profit from such evil, who coerce and convince these mothers to do the unspeakable.
There is much to do to turn the tide. Events are taking place all over the nation, and you can find out more here. Humility, though, in our own hearts, is where we must begin.
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