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Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
winter
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| Although it warmed up to 30 a couple days last week, the snow meltage isn't evident at all... |
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| and this week, it's back to more snow and wind... |
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| but these snow pictures make snow look so charming... |
Friday, January 21, 2011
just one
Just one.
That's what I've been thinking about in light of the anniversary of perhaps the most sacrilegious disgraceful piece the U.S. Supreme Court has even put their hands on.
More specifically, as I burned through several pages of Abby Johnson's book Unplanned last night, about the grandmother she remembers during her time as director of a Texas Planned Parenthood. Abby received a phone call from a girl on abortion day that she didn't want to be seen because her mother was outside the abortion clinic praying for her. As the grandmother pleaded and prayed and cried, her daughter proceeded inside to destroy the life of a child and a grandchild.
What if that little one's mother had been persuaded to walk out to let that little heart beat?
Two days ago, I heard Abby talk about the abortion that changed the direction of her life in a radio interview. Not the events leading up to the direction change, nor those after, but I happened to tune in as she proceeded to relate the events of the day her hand participated in snuffing out one little life.
What would I have to do to save one life? One mama from scores of years of horrible regret. One baby from extinction.
From Abby Johnson's experience, Satan holds great sway on this issue because atrocities abound when the truth is shady and when love is thin. She really believed she was helping women. Which was true. She tells of several women she actually counseled toward adoption. And her life's desire had always been to help others. But the truth was shady. Until the day at the ultrasound machine when she watched a miniature human being try to wrench him or herself from the suction and then succumb to it, the truth wasn't clear. And the ones who daily prayed outside her clinic FOR HER were the ones who helped to effect change in her life after God got her attention.Not the ones who bellowed or intimidated, but the ones who truly loved and respected her as a person, in need of the grace and mercy of God.
Oh that my eyes would be open to just one. One to show love when I'd rather show judgment. One who I can give a second chance. One who I could point to the unconditional love of the Savior.
And one more after that. Then one more.
That's what I've been thinking about in light of the anniversary of perhaps the most sacrilegious disgraceful piece the U.S. Supreme Court has even put their hands on.
More specifically, as I burned through several pages of Abby Johnson's book Unplanned last night, about the grandmother she remembers during her time as director of a Texas Planned Parenthood. Abby received a phone call from a girl on abortion day that she didn't want to be seen because her mother was outside the abortion clinic praying for her. As the grandmother pleaded and prayed and cried, her daughter proceeded inside to destroy the life of a child and a grandchild.
What if that little one's mother had been persuaded to walk out to let that little heart beat?
Two days ago, I heard Abby talk about the abortion that changed the direction of her life in a radio interview. Not the events leading up to the direction change, nor those after, but I happened to tune in as she proceeded to relate the events of the day her hand participated in snuffing out one little life.
What would I have to do to save one life? One mama from scores of years of horrible regret. One baby from extinction.
From Abby Johnson's experience, Satan holds great sway on this issue because atrocities abound when the truth is shady and when love is thin. She really believed she was helping women. Which was true. She tells of several women she actually counseled toward adoption. And her life's desire had always been to help others. But the truth was shady. Until the day at the ultrasound machine when she watched a miniature human being try to wrench him or herself from the suction and then succumb to it, the truth wasn't clear. And the ones who daily prayed outside her clinic FOR HER were the ones who helped to effect change in her life after God got her attention.Not the ones who bellowed or intimidated, but the ones who truly loved and respected her as a person, in need of the grace and mercy of God.
Oh that my eyes would be open to just one. One to show love when I'd rather show judgment. One who I can give a second chance. One who I could point to the unconditional love of the Savior.
And one more after that. Then one more.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Sam celebrated...
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| by building a two-roomed snow cave with Aunt Naomi and Aunt Becca |
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| and blowing out the candles on his banana split ice cream cake. |
one million wanted
One million.
That is the number of people living in Minneapolis (roughly) times three.
But last year one million were prevented from ever learning how to ride a bike, from making snow angels in the snow, writing their name or blowing out birthday candles.
That is one million pre-born babies who will never see the light of day because of lies that the Father of Lies loves to promote. Lies about the definition of convenience. Lies about assumed disabilities. Lies about the definition of the quality of life.
Unwanted?
Would someone be courageous enough to publicly on national media to announce that no child is ever, ever, ever unwanted? Ever. There is no such thing. There is always someone, maybe not so very far away or hard to locate, who would provide a home for the baby or toddler or adolescent whose birth parent cannot provide for.
After all, their Heavenly Father, the One who has made no mistake in their existence, is also Sovereign and is in complete control of well, everything.
Azariah might have been a prime candidate for extinction before he was born. He was born with methamphetamine in his system. God only knows what else he was exposed to prior to his birth. And while his life wasn't worth a change in lifestyle for his birth parents, God has two parents picked out who waited in a Wal-Mart parking lot for the blizzard to clear and the interstate to re-open so they could take him home.
Sometimes God takes 14 years. Today, a 14-year-old Chinese-soon-to-be-American girl will find out that she moves into the "wanted" category - her adoption papers have been cleared. On Monday, God willing, she'll meet her parents and two of her 12 siblings. In a few weeks, maybe less or more, she'll get on a jet plane with her new parents and fly home. When she gets home, she'll have five Danish-German siblings, three Ethiopian, two Guatemalan and one Chinese.
And what am I doing? Not much.
I keep hoping I will be more patient with the children I have been already given in the near future. That I will bellow less about their hopeless messes everywhere. That I will flip out less when they are sick. That I will be more organized and less scatter-brained. That I will be able to hone some skill useful in the cause of defending life.
I can buy diapers for the pregnancy resource center. I can read and weep about the statistics of death.
But is there anymore I can do? Perhaps.
That is the number of people living in Minneapolis (roughly) times three.
But last year one million were prevented from ever learning how to ride a bike, from making snow angels in the snow, writing their name or blowing out birthday candles.
That is one million pre-born babies who will never see the light of day because of lies that the Father of Lies loves to promote. Lies about the definition of convenience. Lies about assumed disabilities. Lies about the definition of the quality of life.
Unwanted?
Would someone be courageous enough to publicly on national media to announce that no child is ever, ever, ever unwanted? Ever. There is no such thing. There is always someone, maybe not so very far away or hard to locate, who would provide a home for the baby or toddler or adolescent whose birth parent cannot provide for.
After all, their Heavenly Father, the One who has made no mistake in their existence, is also Sovereign and is in complete control of well, everything.
Azariah might have been a prime candidate for extinction before he was born. He was born with methamphetamine in his system. God only knows what else he was exposed to prior to his birth. And while his life wasn't worth a change in lifestyle for his birth parents, God has two parents picked out who waited in a Wal-Mart parking lot for the blizzard to clear and the interstate to re-open so they could take him home.
Sometimes God takes 14 years. Today, a 14-year-old Chinese-soon-to-be-American girl will find out that she moves into the "wanted" category - her adoption papers have been cleared. On Monday, God willing, she'll meet her parents and two of her 12 siblings. In a few weeks, maybe less or more, she'll get on a jet plane with her new parents and fly home. When she gets home, she'll have five Danish-German siblings, three Ethiopian, two Guatemalan and one Chinese.
And what am I doing? Not much.
I keep hoping I will be more patient with the children I have been already given in the near future. That I will bellow less about their hopeless messes everywhere. That I will flip out less when they are sick. That I will be more organized and less scatter-brained. That I will be able to hone some skill useful in the cause of defending life.
I can buy diapers for the pregnancy resource center. I can read and weep about the statistics of death.
But is there anymore I can do? Perhaps.
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