Warning: This post contains adult topics and graphic descriptions.
I was recently at a blogging conference where a company was expressing that they like to work with bloggers who won’t embarrass the brand with controversial opinions that might polarize customers.
I could completely understand where they were coming from, and it got me to thinking that I could be a more “successful” blogger if I would not post about controversial topics on my blog or on my Facebook page or Twitter.
And I pondered that for a whole five minutes before deciding that I can’t do it. I can’t shut up about things that I feel need to be spoken about. And one of those is abortion.
Here’s the thing. I used to be one of those enlightened 20-somethings who drank expensive coffee and was concerned about women’s rights. Granted, I was a Christian and had graduated from a Christian university, but I still repeated what I heard from people who I respected, and that was, “I would never get an abortion myself, but who am I to tell another woman what to do with her body?”
But when I saw my own baby’s image on a sonogram for the first time, the little blinking light of a heart, the rudimentary limbs, the eye sockets, I felt a small shift in my thinking. This wasn’t just my body. There was another body at stake here. Maybe, just maybe, it was wrong for any woman to end the life of a completely helpless, innocent human being. A baby. A little person.
Then one day I saw the horrifying photographs of actual aborted babies. The headless bodies. The bloody arms and legs, with tiny recognizable fingers and toes, ripped from torsos, tossed carelessly to the side.
And a change so great in me took place, that I will never be able to go back.
Not only would I never get an abortion myself, but now I wonder if “Who am I?” might be answered with “You were chosen for such a time as this.”
To speak up about the killing of innocents.
All the innocent ones who are not capable of holding a poster with the words, “My body, my choice.” The innocent ones who would never grow up to have women’s rights.
Maybe there are others who do not know, as I once did not, what actually takes place during an abortion. Maybe the pictures will make a difference to them the way it did for me.
I know there is a cost to talking about this. I have seen it on my Facebook page, where I had 185 comments on a thread I posted about abortion, and I was called a nasty name (and I don’t mean “loser” or “idiot”). I lost Facebook followers that day, and I lose them every day I post about abortion. I have had a real life friend tell me that maybe I should back off a little with my stance, so as not to ruffle so many feathers.
But I just can’t. I can’t shut up about the killing of babies. I can’t let innocent lives be taken without speaking up for those who cannot cry out.
Before the comment thread on Facebook got to 185, I was able to get a confession from the most vocal pro-abort commenter that it is indeed horrific to dismember and behead a living baby. But she became enraged when I asked her to complete the following statement:
I believe it is horrific to dismember and behead a living baby, but I would rather do that than (be poor, be embarrassed by a pregnancy, have a retarded child, __fill in the blank__.)
Really, isn’t this what it comes down to? Even the pro-abort crowd says, “Nobody likes the idea of abortion…” At least that’s what was being said on the above mentioned thread. It’s just that abortion is preferable to the alternative, letting the baby live.
Millions of babies have been silenced, but I will not be.
I will speak up. I will stand for life.
A word about comments: I welcome civilized discussion and even disagreement. However, name calling will get you blocked from commenting. And emailing me about “freedom of speech” will do no good. If you cannot discuss this issue civilly, practice your freedom to get your own blog and call me names there.