Thursday, January 22, 2015

#whywemarch

Today marks the 42nd anniversary of the disastrous ruling on the SC case Roe v Wade, a decision which even Roe herself regrets to this day, a decision that opened the door to millions upon millions of innocent lives being cut short before they even left what should have been the safest place on earth for them.

I grew up pro-life and never considered there being any other alternative way of thinking. There was life, or there was death - there was sacrificial love or there was selfishness - there was welcoming a child into one's life or there was giving that child over to a family who so desperately yearns for one.

As I've grown older, I can see why pregnancies are scary. Our Elisabeth was conceived when Molly was nine months old and I cried before I rejoiced at the two pink lines. But not a day passes that I don't thank the Lord above for His gift to us, nor can I imagine my life without her.

I know the fear. I know the fear of looking at a spreadsheet trying to figure out how to fill another stomach, where another sleeping body will lie, or how another carseat is going to fit in our car. I know the fear of doctor's bills and health concerns and moving and graduate school.

I also know the dignity of each life. And that is why I march.


I march because I know the feeling of my daughters' hands as they hold mine, or brush my hair, or fall asleep in my arms. The soft kisses they give me on my cheek and the squeeze of their arms around my neck in a hug. The overwhelming moment of pride as they smile at you for the first time, take their first steps, feel their first loose teeth, receive their first sacraments, and say your name with so much surrender and love. I know the love of a mother for a child and I march so that every mother can.



I march because I know I have three children, not just the two you see here on earth. Though his life was short, our third child is a part of our family and is loved and cherished and missed. Just as with his sisters, not a day passes that he isn't thought about. I march because every life is cherished, even the ones that have passed into the next life.

I march for my husband, born youngest in a family who lived well below minimum wage. I march because they welcomed a life that would forever change mine.



I march because I have sixteen nieces and nephews and each time I hear another one is being added to our family, I rejoice. Each is so different, so new, so beautiful. I march for them.



I march because I have a nephew who is autistic which means he thinks differently than I do, but loves just as fiercely. He teaches me more about love and patience than any other child I've ever met has. I march because every life has worth, even the ones deemed too different than the mainstream way of living. I march so he knows he is loved and cherished and has such incredible worth.



I march for my brother-in-law with spina bifida who, if he had been conceived with a different set of parents, might have been aborted for not having perfect health. I march for all the "imperfect" babies.

I march for my five godchildren, that they may know the passion it takes to live a life of a servant of God.

I march for the nephew I've only met a handful of times.  He was born into the worst of times for his family and sacrificially given over to his now-family who yearned for a child to love and raise. I march for adoption because it is a viable and beautiful option.

I march for the couples I know who cry out for a child to love.

I march for the mother too tired to buy a pregnancy to test to see if she is welcoming another child into the world. Who rejoices in the midst of fear of being open to life.

I march for the father who hugs his newly-pregnant wife as he's mentally falling to his knees, begging God for help as he figures out how to afford another child.



I march for the eleventh child in a family of children whose parents are eleventh children who became a priest and changed the world.

I march for my own grandfather who was a ward of the state and deemed useless by relatives. Because he joined the army at fourteen during WW2, just to escape the horrors of the orphanage. I march because, despite the unworthiness that was thrust upon him by society, he built a life and a family and lived in a Faith unshakable. That same family surrounded his bed as he passed from this life into the next, none of whom would be on this earth f it weren't for the worth of his life. I march to remember him and because his life did, indeed, have worth.



This is all trite and played out, but those are my reasons. We march on Saturday to the Texas Capitol, but we've joined our hearts with those marching in DC today. Please pray for them and for us.

#whywemarch