murdered bbaby


(Link: please also see this page entitled, A Touch Of Perfection, which relates to this blog.)

Don’t wound the wounded

Okay, we are all divided on this one and I’m not about to start a debate. There is enough of those going around. I cringe when I see well-meaning people standing outside of abortion clinics with placards in their hands.

Judgement and condemnation never changed anybody’s mind. Yes abortion is murder and murder is a sin but so is being condemning. So should we just sit back and let things like this go on? Of course not, but shouting outside a clinic with a board in your hand does not appear to be the right thing to do.

People need grace and help and mercy and support.

The doctors are the ones who know that they are ruining women’s lives. But millions of ladies trust them and believe their lies because these professionals have letters after their name and have spent an eternity at university. They are very skilled at being manipulative and persuasive and can outdo any prattling woman with their language and speech.

It’s extremely hard bringing up a baby on your own. Even worse for the girl who has no supportive adults around her. Even worse still for the one who is carrying the foetus of the guy who raped her.

Come on, let’s try a different way. Yes people need to know that some decisions they make are simply wrong, and brings a curse upon their lives and displeases God. But even more so, they need to know that this same God loves them, wants to be their daddy whether they know what a true father is or not. He is full of mercy and wants to keep back from us what we deserve and give us what we don’t deserve.

Jesus already paid the price for our sins so we could be free from guilt. No sin is worse than the other, so let us put our placards down and start loving properly. Those women need help, not useless words thrown at them from a spray can.


We Lied

We told her it was part of her body.
That’s just the way the muscle grows.
We lied.
Muscle does not have,
Two feet and ten toes.

We told her, when she gets rid of it,
She will forget it was ever there.
We lied.
She still hears the ‘muscle’ scream,
In her sixty-fourth nightmare.

We put up posters about counselling,
In the advice centre we built.
She cried,
“Why do I hate myself so much?
No-one warned me about the guilt.”

We told her it was harmless,
As she sat in the waiting room.
She cried,
“I can’t have any more children,
The doctor punctured my womb.”

We said, “The baby will feel nothing,
Just lie still and stay calm.”
It died.
Losing all it’s blood,
When we ripped off it’s arm.

We said, “It’s not yet a human,
This is a fact that is well known.”
It died.
It was agony when the saline,
Burned through the flesh right to the bone.

We said her wicked deed,
Is one God never forgives.
We lied.
If she asks him for salvation,
She will see where her child lives.

We said she must be evil
To kill a harmless baby.
We lied.
Would we do the same?
Without Jesus, then maybe.

How can she live her life,
Knowing what she has done?
He died.
God let the blood pour out of,
His precious only son.