Archives For Abortion

The Walk for Life is this weekend in San Francisco. In thinking about the holocaust of babies, I came across a picture of four doctors posing together at the 2013 Sundance Film Festival; Doctors LeRoy Carhart, Warren Hern, Susan Robinson and Shelley Sella.

unbornThree out of the four seem to be having a nice time. They were the subjects of the documentary After Tiller. (Dr. George Tiller, a late-term abortion provider, was murdered in 2009.) The doctors were most likely standing on a red carpet, a place of honor. Dubious distinction I would suggest.

They are the only four physicians in the U.S. who perform third-trimester abortions.

Please take a moment and look at the faces in the picture. If you’re like me, a flood of thoughts and emotions will pour over mind and body. Clearly, they are dedicated. They know the personal risks. Is care or even love for their pregnant patient their overriding concern? Or something else? I don’t know these people but I would like to—so that we could talk. Individually would be best. I would listen with as much compassion as I could muster then I’d pray that the Holy Spirit guide me. So that I could convince them to stop.

Dr. Robinson, who worked with Dr. Tiller, said, “We learned at his knee. Kindness, courtesy, justice, love and respect are the hallmarks of a good doctor-patient relationship.”

The irony of that statement doesn’t need my amplification.

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Abortion – Perverse Insanity

September 17, 2012 — 2 Comments

I can be irreverent, a bit of an iconoclast and somewhat unconventional. Sometimes, that gets me in trouble. For example, soon I’m going to post about suicide––but my approach is going to surprise people. Why? Because I plan to be poignant, instructive and funny.


“You think suicide is funny!?”

I can hear indignant voices blend into a deafening chorus––but no, definitely not funny in that sense. However, as fodder for dark humor––suicide can be hilarious. Especially if one’s approach is to cut through the Gordian knot of self-destruction with macabre, direct tactics.

Of course, morbid, unpleasant and (possibly) offensive yarns have their detractors but handled the right way, the absurdity can be instructive. At least that’s my point of view from the cheap seats.

But what if suicide had affected my life in some way? Then the hell with it, better that I pray for clarity than listen to some knucklehead muse on self-murder.

I feel that way about abortion. There’s nothing funny about it. It’s reprehensible from every angle. And Satan is overjoyed.

Please allow me to share.


“Hi Honey. It’s your dad. Just checking in­­––call me when you have a chance. Love you.”

Her name might be Grace. His name might be Matthew. Both would be college age and they would be extraordinary in untold ways. I can see them now, the familiar family characteristics from head to toe, their grandmother’s beautiful smile, perhaps their grandfather’s nose. Earnest, happy, funny; young people with character, heart and spirit. And promise. Unbelievable promise.

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