Our Schizophrenic Abortion Mentality


I listened with some interest this morning to NPR and later CNN as radio and television newscasters commented on the conviction of an abortion provider for poor and downtrodden pregnant women and girls in somewhere, America. His name is of no importance to me, frankly.

What is important to me is the schizophrenic nature of America’s view of abortion and murder. Somehow we are appalled when a spinal cord is snipped to kill a child the mother of that child came to the abortion clinic to rid herself of. Somehow it’s okay to chemically burn an unborn baby alive as long as the child is out of sight inside the mother’s womb. But let that same unborn baby emerge from the womb and the snipping of the spinal cord with a pair of scissors is suddenly horrendous and murderous.

This makes no sense to me. How is it murder now if it is not murder a few moments before? And how is the mother (or father) of that child not then the murderer?

We are truly schizophrenic. We work to save unborn babies in hospitals while we strive to kill them in abortion clinics.

Like I said, this is far from common sense. Common sense says that a baby – whether wanted and protected or unwanted and unprotected – is still a baby, and as such, has civil rights as promised, but yet to be secured, by the Constitution of the United States.

Telling the truth…


This morning, a white pick-up truck traveling in my direction on a four-lane road, pulled out in front of the car directly in front of me. That car swerved skillfully into the other lane, leaving me to slow down to avoid hitting the truck. The driver of the pick-up started to weave in and out of his lane. I started to pass him, but decided I was safer behind him.

I called the police to report a possible drunk driver as he continued to swerve in and out of his lane, onto the shoulder, etc.

The police asked me all sorts of questions, mostly about my identity. I continued to follow the truck which was taking my usual route to work. By the time we’d traveled five miles, I’d told the police dispatcher the truck’s license plate, the nature of the driving pattern, how the truck had just missed hitting a vehicle passing it on the right. The truck lurched into that car’s lane, then lurched back into mine. I continued to follow at a safe distance.

Then, the police dispatcher thanked me and said she’d send a police cruiser out as soon as feasible. I gathered that would be a while. Then, she asked if I’d like to make a formal complaint against the driver. I said, “Sure.”

Turns out I’d have to come to the police station to do that. 

“I’m on my way to work.”

“We can’t come to you.”

“Oh, okay.”

I let it go, although I did consider stopping at a police station I sometimes pass on my way to work. I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop because soon after the truck turned off the main road onto a side street where no policeman would likely locate him, I slowed to allow a pedestrian to cross in front of my car. Instead of continuing at his rapid clip, the man SLOWED down as he strolled across an six lane highway! I started to cry. 

I realized that – at that moment anyway – I hated all of humanity. 

Some Christians find those big sins most horrid, but I find being irresponsible (drunk driver!) and inconsiderate (rude pedestrian!) abhorrent and damn depressing.

I Am Not Your Wife, Sister or Daughter. I Am A Person.

Reblogged from The Belle Jar:

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I don't have to tell you that Steubenville is all over the news.

I don't have to tell you that it's a fucking joke that Trent Mays and Ma'lik Richmond, the two teenagers convicted of raping a sixteen year old girl, were only sentenced to a combined three years in juvenile prison. Each will serve a year for the rape itself; Mays will serve an additional year for "illegal use of a minor in nudity-oriented material."

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Keba's Story

Reblogged from Resting in His Grace:

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Matt and the family have now made their way into Diouloulou. He posts these words at his site, All Senegal for Christ.

"I met Keba a few years ago when I was on a trip to Diouloulou. He is from a village called Karongue about 12 kilometers south east of Diouloulou. Both Keba's parents died when he was a child and he ended up living with a family in Diouloulou so that he could attend school. 

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"The Divine Nature Through Him" ( 2 Peter 1:4, KNOX ) by Carley Evans

Reblogged from Grace Partakers:

What does it mean to "share the divine nature?" How is that possible? The author of Hebrews writes of Jesus calling us brothers. Paul writes of us becoming sons of God - and if sons, then heirs of all God possesses, including the divine nature. (No wonder Jesus warns against spiritual pride! No wonder Paul tells us not to be "puffed up!")

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Marketing is tough, but sometimes fun!

Reblogged from DooRFrame Books:

Yesterday while paying for a pair of battleship grey - ugh - scrubs ( the color is required in the hospital where I work as a medical speech language pathologist ), the clerk mentioned the beautiful day - oh, it was! - and to enjoy it. I said that no, I was spending the afternoon writing and rewriting a chapter in my most recent novel.

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Looking for a good read? Try METAL MAN WALKING and ANNIE DREAMING...

Cry Me a River...

Reblogged from Mihaela Gruia:

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Meanwhile on randoMpaGe 77 of Janet Todd's Sensibility...

"...tears indicate response; they denote tenderness, sympathy and a feeling heart. react to suffering with subtle gradations from weeping hysterically to dropping a single tear. Such physical manifestations constitute a language of the heart, a code of sincere and true expression far beyond words which have the ability to lie and conceal."

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Really great post...