I choose life: Where pro-choice and pro-life meet.

It's 60 degrees in Michigan in February so I went for a walk. On my neighborhood stroll, I saw a yard sign promoting the pro-life platform's agenda to end legal abortions in the U.S. and my heart sank. Why can't it just say, "I choose life"? Why does this issue have to be so polarizing? Even in my pro-choice circles, I don't know anyone who is "pro-death," or "pro-kill-all-the-babies." Because I'm a reasonable, thoughtful and compassionate person, I seriously question whether overturning Roe vs Wade is the best way to protect life or not. Can the pro-life platform entertain the possibility that through a combination of broad efforts and support services women might not see getting an abortion as a choice at all? Instead, that it would not even make sense for a woman to have an abortion because there would be little to no impact on the nine months of gestation affecting income or performance at work; there would be assurances that they could provide financially for the child; there might even be an adoptive parent ready and waiting to welcome the child into their home-and it wouldn't just be parents that have turned to adoption as a last resort for having children; and there would be NO SHAME in doing this.

Dream with me for a moment.

What if religious organizations that teach premarital sex as sin and punishable by shame and ridicule by the entire community to the point that congregates turn to abortion in order to hide this atrocious act of love and natural instinct of our human bodies- what if they instead included abstinence as one form of responsible sex but not the only method? I wonder how many teenage pregnancies would be prevented, thus abortions averted if our youth were not faced with hormonal make-out sessions in which physical body wins over pious teachings and... oops.  The Church allows concessions for other "sins" why not this one? ie. Donuts are bad (gluttony), but if you are going to eat one, eat one with the least amount of calories and sugar/fat content and be sure to do some jumping jacks.

I believe there are two main decision factors when faced with an unplanned pregnancy. Don't forget, unplanned pregnancies happen within marriages as well.

The first is the social judgement factor: How will this change in my life be received by those around me? Will they be happy for me? Will they make assumptions that I am thrilled with this life-changing inevitable event in my life? Will they say awkward references to my fertility? Will they make jokes about whether or not I know how to prevent pregnancy? Will they talk behind my back about how foolish it is for me to have another child when I can't "support" the others that I already have? And the biggest realization- OMG THEY WILL KNOW THAT I HAD SEX!!!! Which in the U.S. is an assumption if married- though I know I didn't get much when I was married myself- and if not, a big dirty rotten secret that is supposed to be hiding from the world.

The second is a resource factor: How will this change affect my ability to care for not only that which I am now responsible for but also the new life? What is my current physical health situation? How will this pregnancy impact it? Are there other lives that rely on me that this change might severely compromise their health and safety? Do I have enough money to feed, clothe, shelter another life? Do I have a plan for increasing my income and/or does this change dramatically affect it? What support system do I have in place to get me through the formative years?

Making abortion illegal discriminates and incriminates our poor. I love this quote by Thomas More from his book Utopia, “For if you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this, but that you first make thieves and then punish them.”  Poor people have sex too.  We can't persecute the poor for having sex. But we can offer free reproductive health prevention services such as birth control, condoms, vasectomies, tubal legations in order to prevent abortions. The rich when faced with an unwanted pregnancy will have the means to travel to another country to have an abortion, or they will have the money to pay for an underground abortion. The poor will get poorer and weaker, or they will face botched abortions and possible death. Is this our America?

Making abortion illegal basically allows government to lose control of the birth rate.  I wonder what America would look like with 58 million more people.  I wonder if and when our economy could not sustain itself, would the government then put a cap on births per household? Or perhaps people would then become trade commodities with other nations. ie. We'll send you 10,000 U.S. citizens for $X in oil. Crazy thoughts.

Sometimes choosing life means it beats you up a bit. Sometimes life has already beaten us up to the point that we can't choose life without the help of others. I chose life when I had my 3 children. Life chose for me when I miscarried. It's a life and death decision each time and I have no judgement upon someone either way. I wish the yard sign would say something more like, "Pray for open pocketbooks, homes, and hearts to support our women who choose life."  For a life without safety, security, and love is no life at all. Let's get rid of the terms pro-life and pro-choice. I choose life. Will you join me?

I guess I'm not like you.

How do I pour out my heart without breaking yours?
How do I tell you I feel betrayed without offending you?
Will you even hear me? Is it worth me telling? Will any good come of it?

Many of you know I have taken the results of the election pretty hard. I'm a passionate person. I feel deeply as I know many of you do. I want you to know that I love you. I also want you to know that I don't feel safe with you anymore and the reasons why.

I've been wearing a scarf over my head since the weekend after the election. When hate speech and racial attacks bubble up from the hearts of some of the voters claiming victory, I grieve. When protesters vandalize because their own anger overflows, I grieve. When the response I hear over and over to my own pleas to hear my grief is itself full of the boastful pride of winning, I grieve.

As my headscarf symbolizes mourning, it also doubles as my personal visible sign to you, my brothers and sisters in Christ, the visible Church of our Lord Jesus, whom I deeply love; I don't want to be associated with your overwhelming voice in the election.

I never felt like I had to choose between the "lesser of two evils." I don't understand why you did. Perhaps you cared more about winning than I did. I didn't think the Christian life was about winning. I thought is was about being kind and merciful to others. I thought it was about caring for the poor and defending the weak. I thought it was about goodness, not greatness.

Maybe you cared more about saving the babies than I did. Maybe you think the Christian way to save babies is to make a law and force life. I thought the Christian way was welcoming life with joy and providing a safe and loving environment for life to be received. I thought saving babies is done by having deep love relationships with each other-so that when unwelcomed pregnancies happen, the mother and child would be supported emotionally and physically by each other-so that the growing child would not feel the stress of the mother, the judgment, the shame. I thought the Christian way was loving people, not lording over them.

I guess I'm not like you.

I heard you. You didn't care that he cares about winning more than being good. You watched him publicly just as I did. I don't have to remind you. You have wielded your most powerful act as an American and declared: character isn't the deciding factor. You have spoken. You chose winning over decency.

I thought you cared about me.
I thought you would defend me.
I thought you would say, "You are more valuable than rubies."
I thought you would say, "No one should ever be treated like that."

I thought my life mattered.

Perhaps I'm too sensitive.
Perhaps I'm overreacting.
Perhaps I have unresolved childhood issues.
Perhaps the scars of abuse in my own life cloud my perception.

But one thing I know. I love you, but...
I'm not like you.

Late again for church

We were late again for church this morning. It's probably my fault, right? I'm the mother-the responsible one. Is it too much to ask my three young children; 8yrs, 6yrs and 3yrs to stay on task? Must I constantly be with them, keeping them focused on the task at hand...getting dressed, eating breakfast, brushing teeth? I just don't understand why it takes them twenty minutes to do each of these activities. That's another subject. We're up and bathed and dressed and had breakfast and I'm putting on the last of my makeup before grabbing my purse and loudly proclaiming that I'm getting in the van, when Mary, my six year old, asks if she can put on some makeup too. First I say "no," because we are late, then after a manipulative plea of "but you always get to put on makeup and I never do!" I consent to getting her "makeup" out for her, with instructions that she needs to do it herself while I get my shoes on...then we are getting in the van. I've grabbed my purse, put the three year old in her carseat, went back in the house and yelled for the eight year old, Jonathan. He is looking for his shoes which he claims he left in his room, but I remember he kicked of last night by the couch when we were playing the stinky feet game. I shout to him that his shoes are in the living room and go to fetch my beauty girl. I find her all "dolled" up in the bathroom with no shoes on. "Come on, Mary, let's go!" I say firmly but trying to keep a bit of endearment in my voice. As she starts to come she wails, "but Mom, I need my shawl!" Of course she doesn't really need her shawl, but I know that this is the shawl that I gave her for her birthday to go with her dressy outfit. It's a crocheted-grandma-baby- blue-triangle shawl that I bought for a dollar at Good Will, but for some reason it is special to her and I knew she had her mind set on wearing it this morning. It would have broken her heart for me to not allow her to get it. "Well, go and get it!" I prod her along, with an edge in my voice. I go back to the van to check on the others. Jonathan has his shoes in his hands-not on his feet-and tells me that he needs new shoes because of the pea-sized whole near the toe of his sketcher. This however, comes out of his mouth as, "Mom, my shoes are trashed, I need some new ones." I'm nearly beside myself now so all I can manage to say is, "really? well put your trashed shoes on please, I don't think God will mind." Back into the house I go again to fetch my Mary. I find her upstairs with the shawl neatly layed out on the floor. She is ever so carefully moving her hands over it to get rid of the wrinkles. Mary seems to "prepare" for everything she does. She doesn't just do things. That's another story. Being her mother, I realize this and call upon my patience, look at the clock and see that we are now fifteen minutes late for church. "Mary, what are you doing?" "I'm coming, Mom. I'm just putting my shawl on." She says in such a grown-up manner. She proudly cascades down the stairs wearing her baby-blue-grandma-shawl, then asks me to adjust it-like a lady would wear it. We are about to walk out the door...I thought. "Mom!" she exclaims. "I need a necklace!" Now at this point, I'm contemplating staying home all together. "Better late than never" echoes in my mind and I return to my precious daughter before me. "Mary, you have necklaces, you should have already gotten one on." "But Mom, I don't know where they are right now! Can I wear one of yours?" Oh the ever dreaded request of a child to a parent..."can I use/borrow.....of yours?" Remarkably I thought of a necklace that she "could" wear. "Go get in the van and I will get a necklace for you." I head upstair to retrieve the necklace. Lord, thank you for my children. Thank you for my precious Mary and how you have given her the desire to be a beautiful creation before you and your people; how you have given her me as an example to follow, in the way I dress, the makeup I wear, and even my jewelry, Lord, help me! Use this morning in a powerful way to validate her preciousness and beauty as your child. Thank you that she sees the value in herself and has the desire to take great care of her presentation. I return to the van with the necklace and place it over her head. Now, the van is running, the door to the house is already locked and I'm about to shut the van door, when my three year old, Dana, exclaims! "Mom! My necklace!"