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Sharpening the Iron of the Church


As If We Never Existed

 

It is as if I never existed. 

      At least it would I seem I did not exist until I was about 12 years old when I sort of merged into life. There are no family photo albums, no scrapbook full of achievements, no memories of family get togethers. There was a single photograph of me in a cowboy suit where I look to be about 4 or 5 years old. Somehow, it had gotten torn in half and was stuck in the back of a pile of legal papers belonging to my mom. At some point, long after I was married and had children of my own, my mother repaired the photo with scotch tape and had a photographer restore it.  It was, she said, the only memento of my childhood she possessed.

       My life as a child was made up mostly of long rides on Greyhound buses, sneaking out of apartments late at night because my mom couldn’t pay the rent; leaving most of our meager belongings behind, and getting used to a new school; sometimes as many as three schools in a single year.

     Fleeing an abusive Father and the demons of her own personal failures, my mom was always on the move; always running. She first ran from her father, a terrified, unwed mother of 19. Even after he died, she seemed to continue to be fleeing him and yet, she could never seem to truly escape the wounds he had inflicted on her heart. She ran from a broken childhood, losing her mother at age 7, physically and emotionally abused by her father, and the moral failure that led to my being born in the winter of 1948; “unknown” listed for father on my birth certificate.

     I lived for almost 6 years in a foster home while my mother was in the wind. I was cared for physically, if not emotionally, and spent most of those years referred to more often than not as “the boy”. It’s interesting because there were two other foster kids in the home at the same time as I was there. They had names; Edward and Martin. I was “the boy.”  That was really alright I guess, because I didn’t really know who I was. I had no memory a mother or father and only a fleeting image of my grandfather as he walked out the kitchen door after dropping me off, and.. . . . . . .  nothing else.

It was as if I never existed.

     Except. . . . . I did exist.  Because of her pain, it was like I didn’t exist to my mother. I don’t blame her because I understand her need to flee her pain and shame. I didn’t exist to my father because he either could not or would not accept any responsibility for me. I didn’t seem to exist for my grandfather or my aunts and uncles and cousins who all existed, but I didn’t know, or had no recollection of them.

     However, the Word of God declares that before I was conceived He knew me. Even before I was knit together in my mother’s womb, God knew me. He knew my name, and He had plans for me.

     Those plans began to unfold right around my 12th year when we settled in a small town in western North Carolina. I encountered a godly Pastor who became my surrogate father and mentor and who began to unfold for me the reality that to the mind and heart of my Heavenly Father I not only existed, but was a precious treasure to Him and an integral part of His plans.

     I write these words to make what, to me, is an important point. A point that I don’t want to be lost in the cacophony of political noise that fills our consciousness every day. I will not let the voices of the children who are sacrificed on the altar of convenience and finance every day in America go unheard. With the entire nation focused on impeachment and re-election, the silent screams from the womb are easily lost in the political ruckus. 

     Since 1972 and the ruling on Roe v. Wade, millions upon millions of precious treasures have been slaughtered on the altar of convenience.  In the name of “a women’s right to privacy” and “women’s health care” more than 60 million amazingly complex, peculiarly unique, and incredibly valuable human beings have been torn limb from limb from their mother’s womb. They are systematically devalued from human being to a product of conception,  and casually tossed into garbage cans like a butcher trimming fat from a roast. 

     In acts of unspeakable violence we have as a nation eclipsed the inhumanity of Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, and Chairman Mao even if they were rolled into one being. We decry their violence as cruel and sadistic all the while we are committing atrocities beside which the gas chambers of Auschwitz pale.

     The mothers of these children for the most part, have been cunningly deceived into believing their babies aren’t really children. They are just clumps of cells. 

It is as if they don’t really exist.

And so, because it’s not convenient to be pregnant or because it will throw my career aspirations off track, because I’m too frightened, too young, too poor, or too something. . . . . . . . I just pretend the child doesn’t exist.

     “Mom, I do exist.  Please. . . please –  feel my legs move, listen to my heart beat, watch me suck my thumb. Watch me react to loud noises and recoil from pain.  I am a human being. I am attached to you by an umbilical cord upon which I depend for my very life. I am attached to you Mom,  but I am not you, and YOU do not have the right to end my life. I am me and I exist.”

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I knew your name and  I consecrated you.” Jeremiah 1:5

     This nation is guilty of many sins; great and heinous sins; none greater than the slaughter of its own children. We are a nation in decline – financially, morally, and even militarily – and I believe a convincing case can be made that we can lay the cause of our decline right on the doorstep of the abortion clinic.

     We have bowed before Molech (death) and he has sucked the life out of us as a nation. There exists in America a generation of children who have watched more than one third of their number butchered in the slaughterhouses we call Planned Parenthood – and now, they will debate our future. I suspect that the euthanasia of their parents will be on the discussion table.

     Sooner or later, we will become inconvenient to them. As they say – what goes around comes around. Or if you prefer, “God is not mocked, for whatsoever a man (nation) soweth, that shall he also reap.”

     Part of the judgment of God that will befall this nation is this: The generation that has been aborted by its parents will have no qualms about aborting their parents. However terrible their decisions might be, who will stand up and say they are wrong?

It will be as if we never existed.

Discussion (3)

There are 3 responses to “As If We Never Existed”.

  1. Good morning Michael,

    A very beautiful and powerful piece… Thank-you for sharing this!

    Don Best

  2. Lorrie responded:

    · Reply

    Very hard message. Thank you for writing it.

  3. Thank you, Mike. Thank you.

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