It is late. The kids are in bed. The neighborhood is unusually quiet. Thoughts are drifting through.The pile of textbooks beside me haven't been opened for a week now; I am getting behind - but - life. Life. We are so blessed to let this word define the colour in our day, the movement, or pace of activity, what we see out of the window as we drive along and Spring turns into summer. For some, though, it is the essence of what they are fighting for, protecting; running a race against time as they give up everything, for
Life.
Every 3 seconds, a child is aborted in this country. 30,000 a day. Most are a result of policy. Forced.
Mother's that long for children; love the one's they have, but conceive outside of permission. Forced. 3 months, 8 months; it doesn't matter.
Life.
And the one's that protect it? Fines. Can't pay? Lose their homes, businesses, and identity, and freedom. Who stands on the wall and cries out for justice?
Life. How I love Life!
I just caught up on your blog... it's been a while since I've had the time and energy to really delve into your poetry and pain. I am praying for you.
ReplyDeleteI know you only by these words but I can honestly say that I love you. I love you and I think of you often.
Remember when you are wiping up breakfast messes and stepping over howling children... only to feel overcome with the intensity of heartache... that I'm standing in the gap for you. His strength shines brighter in your weakness. Let His joy be your strength!
In His love alone,
Stephanie
Oh Stephanie... if I could only ever bless half as many souls as you have, I would be happy. You are one of the greatest servants and lovers of God I have ever known. I love you too.
DeletePS - I have your autographed copy of 'Myles'. I find that profound...