(some of this was written yesterday - the day the conversation took place, and some was written today. Sorry if that makes for confusing reading. I didn't want to lessen yesterday's emotions by switching everything to "yesterday." Writers prerogative, I guess!)
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Until today, my kids probably believed that everyone got as excited and hyper as they do when they hear news like, "Hey guys! Our new baby inside Mom has eyelashes now!"
Until today, my kids assumed every baby was loved, even before it was born, by parents that would rejoice like we rejoice when we finally meet our new one - "it's a boy!!!"
Until today, my kids mostly thought that all families welcomed babies like we welcome ours - with copious amounts of affection that often borders on "CAREFUL you're going to smother him!"
Today I told my children about abortion.*
It was wretched.
I still feel raw from the conversation. I don't know that you can ever feel "fine" after revealing such evil to your children.
I didn't plan on doing it. I hadn't made any mental notes on how it would go, what my approach would be, or what I would cover. It just sort of happened, and as awful as a conversation about abortion must naturally be, our conversation could not have gone better. It was grace-filled and Spirit-led. My heart is so overwhelmingly grateful for that.
It was good, but hard. I cried. My children cried. They asked a lot of questions. I had good answers (thank you, Holy Spirit.) They asked if our own baby James was in danger and I had to specify unborn babies. They were shocked. You are right to be, my children!
They asked how "the people" come to get the mothers and do this to them. They were silent and tearful when I replied, Mother's choose it.
My children asked if we should call the police. They said surely the police would be after the people that do this. I felt my throat start to tighten. "It's legal," I whispered. It felt like the hardest thing I had to say up to that point. Their mouths dropped open and their eyes got wide with disbelief. They were floored. My heart sunk even deeper. Then they got angry. You are right to be angry!
Our discussion ended with the the sorrowful truth that God's laws are not always the laws of our country. We came back to this over and over again. Christian living is not now, nor has ever been, for the faint of heart.
My own heart, hurting from the conversation, was reassured by the reactions of my children. My sons criticized the judges who declared abortion legal and began to plot their own ascent to judge-dom in order to reverse what had been done. They asked, "can't we get all the people together who know this is wrong and go tell the lawmakers to vote on what we want?" They envisioned the March for Life before they even knew it existed! They wanted to form groups that would pray to end abortion and promote a culture of life... perhaps one day they'll be eager participants in teens for life group! When confronted with the horrid facts, they wanted to be evangelizers, and sidewalk counselors, and educators, and advocates for adoption and legal change all at once, right now!!
Jesus' conversion of hearts, perhaps using us as prayer warriors or active instruments in the midst of the fray, is the only answer to the problem of abortion in this country. While nothing is impossible for God, our culture devalues life to such an extreme it often seems like the prayer to convert enough hearts is a hopeless one. But last night, after re-visting all these topics with my boys for a second time in one day (to make sure lingering questions and concerns were addressed before bedtime), and this time with my husband as part of the conversation, we prayed for the strength to uphold the laws of God in our hearts and family even when they are at odds with the laws of our nation. We prayed for the conversion of our hearts and for a complete and total reversal of the laws which legalized abortion under any circumstance. After our prayer, we said goodnight and the boys picked up a book that they had previously agreed would be the one Aaron would read to Dominic that night, and they went off to bed. It wasn't until later in the evening that I realized which book they had chosen - it was the story of Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. They had chosen to read about the brave men and women that fought a previous blight on the American conscience - slavery. American slavery - for nearly one hundred years, the laws of our country were not in accord with the laws of God. And they were changed. It gave me a glimmer of hope at the end of a day that had drained me emotionally - the day when a sweet and sacred part of my children's innocence had been permanently taken from them. I hated what I told them that day, but I went to bed with a prayer of hope. It has happened before. The law of the land was changed. "There is neither slave nor free... you are all one in Christ..." The law of God was eventually upheld as our nation's own. Perhaps an end to abortion is not as hopeless as it sounded to me when the words were coming out of my own mouth, as I felt like I tore at my children with one new awful truth after another. Perhaps it is the young ones, the passionate ones, our children who instinctively know right from wrong, and who want to charge a-blazing against injustice, who will lead, by their prayers and example and leadership, our country into an era where all human life is valued as a gift from God and the laws of God and the laws of our nation will not be at odds. I pray my children will be a part of that triumph. Maybe then I can believe that the awfulness of telling them today, the sickening feeling of stealing away bits of their innocence, was part of what I (and untold numbers of Christian parents) sacrificed for the victory. For now though, it just feels rotten and I hate it.
Jesus' conversion of hearts, perhaps using us as prayer warriors or active instruments in the midst of the fray, is the only answer to the problem of abortion in this country. While nothing is impossible for God, our culture devalues life to such an extreme it often seems like the prayer to convert enough hearts is a hopeless one. But last night, after re-visting all these topics with my boys for a second time in one day (to make sure lingering questions and concerns were addressed before bedtime), and this time with my husband as part of the conversation, we prayed for the strength to uphold the laws of God in our hearts and family even when they are at odds with the laws of our nation. We prayed for the conversion of our hearts and for a complete and total reversal of the laws which legalized abortion under any circumstance. After our prayer, we said goodnight and the boys picked up a book that they had previously agreed would be the one Aaron would read to Dominic that night, and they went off to bed. It wasn't until later in the evening that I realized which book they had chosen - it was the story of Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. They had chosen to read about the brave men and women that fought a previous blight on the American conscience - slavery. American slavery - for nearly one hundred years, the laws of our country were not in accord with the laws of God. And they were changed. It gave me a glimmer of hope at the end of a day that had drained me emotionally - the day when a sweet and sacred part of my children's innocence had been permanently taken from them. I hated what I told them that day, but I went to bed with a prayer of hope. It has happened before. The law of the land was changed. "There is neither slave nor free... you are all one in Christ..." The law of God was eventually upheld as our nation's own. Perhaps an end to abortion is not as hopeless as it sounded to me when the words were coming out of my own mouth, as I felt like I tore at my children with one new awful truth after another. Perhaps it is the young ones, the passionate ones, our children who instinctively know right from wrong, and who want to charge a-blazing against injustice, who will lead, by their prayers and example and leadership, our country into an era where all human life is valued as a gift from God and the laws of God and the laws of our nation will not be at odds. I pray my children will be a part of that triumph. Maybe then I can believe that the awfulness of telling them today, the sickening feeling of stealing away bits of their innocence, was part of what I (and untold numbers of Christian parents) sacrificed for the victory. For now though, it just feels rotten and I hate it.
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* I just wanted to add a few notes for my own benefit as well as for yours, perhaps...
Some of my friends and their children attended the local Women Betrayed Rally yesterday. I had hoped to take the kids but wasn't able to make it due to a previous engagement with the city health board guy involving rat poison and stern warnings to the kids to stop leaving food outside.... Instead of the rally we were able to go to a nearby Adoration chapel and pray for our friends who were there and for an end to abortion at the very time the rally was starting. It was because of this sudden need to go to the chapel in the middle of the day (which we don't normally do) that I felt like I owed my children an explanation. I also wanted them to be able to pray specifically for the intention that was dragging them away from their morning play. That was why I "out-of-the-blue" decided to tell them about abortion yesterday.
I was able to speak to my oldest two alone, and it was with them that I had the majority of this conversation. They are 7 and 9. I didn't feel it was appropriate to regale my little girls with all of this information at their age. They are 3 and 5. My five year old knows some, but I believe she only has a very vague understanding of what we were actually talking about - for now, her fervent prayer is for babies who don't get to be with their families, and I think that's an appropriate amount of knowledge for my five year old right now. Each family will obviously have there own ideas on when to share information and how much to share.
Which brings me to one of the final things we spoke about with our boys. We want them to talk to Dad and Mom about this topic if they have more questions or need to voice concerns or prayers. We have asked them to not speak about it openly with their little sisters and we have asked them not to speak about it with friends. That last part was a tricky one because they very emphatically expressed interest in being a part of the pro-life movement to spread awareness and to change hearts. My husband and I reminded them though, that parents have the right and responsibility to speak to their own children about such a serious and difficult topic first, and that the parents of some of their friends may not think their children are ready for this conversation yet. It was hard to tell the boys to "not speak out" after having had two lengthy discussion with them about how we need to "speak out," but Russ and I felt confident it was the right thing. For now, it's a conversation we will keep among our family and in our prayers, and we'll soon need to find appropriate outlets for our kids to be active and visible members of the pro-life movement.