Day Thirty-Seven

Quiet day at the hospital today. The lone protester didn't even make much fuss. She rolled down her window as she drove by and said in a low voice, "freedom of choice, freedom of choice."

You know what choice is? It's chocolate or vanilla, it's white bread or brown, it's roses or carnations.

And when people trot out that overused word - choice - we have to ask, "Freedom to choose what?" Randy Alcorn, in his book "Prolife Answers to Prochoice Arguments" says, "We are prochoice in matters of religion, politics and lifestyle, even when people choose beliefs and behaviours we don't agree with. But must of us are decidedly not prochoice when it comes to murder, rape, kidnapping, armed robbery, and child abuse. When we oppose the right to choose rape or child abuse, we aren't opposing a right; we're opposing a wrong."

***

I was away visiting family last week and had a chilling conversation with an old neighbour while we waited to board our flight out of Terrace. We were catching up on news about our children and I asked her how many children her eldest had. She said three and rolled her eyes and told me with a laugh "but I told her she didn't have to have the last one." I was shocked. Imagine talking that way about your own family member, your own grandchild! I know several couples that are childless due to infertility and this flippant remark made me think of them and their own unsuccessful quest to have a family. I'd always liked this neighbour but this cut me to the core. Pray for her.

Please come to Mills Memorial tomorrow - it's Abortion Day - and we need your prayers and your presence.