'Nor did it enter my mind'

Occasionally, I find myself overwhelmed by frustration. When that happens, I will approach a co-worker, friend or family member -- whoever is handy at the time -- and seize them by the shoulders. Holding them perfectly still, I then shake myself silly until my head spins. Thankfully, I haven't yet had to resort to this type of release by accosting perfect strangers, but I'm not making any promises.

Between government bailouts, legalized murder, people celebrating wickedness in the street, and all-too-frequent encounters with rude people, obtuse people and a culture that seems steeped in apathy, my frustration quotient is met or exceeded on a daily basis.

I don't like feeling this way, but sometimes, in our new "open-minded, above all else be tolerant" culture, the feeling is unavoidable.

It's like walking on eggshells.

Poor Will Shakespeare had no idea how hard it would be in 2009 to follow his admonition "To thine own self be true" when he penned Hamlet in the 16th century.

A case in point came up recently in a discussion about the newly resurrected use of federal funds to conduct embryonic stem cell research. I'm not sure the friendship will survive the debate.

Proponents of this research make grandiose claims as to the myriad human ills that will undoubtedly be vanquished because science and medicine dared to go where no man had gone before. And anyone who has or loves someone who has one of these ailments, such as Alzheimer's, diabetes, spinal cord injury or Parkinson's would like nothing more than to see a cure come over the horizon. Indeed, anyone with any measure of compassion would celebrate an end to these plagues.

But at what cost? It is a question deserving of an answer.

Many years ago, short months after Lisa's delivery by emergency cesarean section, I was pretty sure I was pregnant again. A master in the art of denial, I kept my suspicions to myself, arguing with myself daily that after waiting interminably long to conceive both Ben and Lisa, surely I couldn't already be pregnant again. Denial only works while it works. Reality has a way of rearing its all too real head and only the most foolish deny it to its face.

My inner turmoil had resulted in an uncharacteristic silence on my part, and Danny, never one to dabble in denial, wasted little time in addressing that issue at supper one night, which he was quickly wolfing down between his two jobs. I reluctantly shared my suspicion and his reaction was admittedly reserved. With both Ben and Lisa, we were instantly ecstatic, but the recent surgery that delivered Lisa to us had also revealed my deformity and neither one of us were sure just how much trouble we might be in with another pregnancy.

Sharing the news that weekend with a close family member, before having a consult with my doctor, I was shocked to hear the dreaded "A" word cross her lips. Her concerns were certainly valid and she was deeply concerned about my health and the potential fallout for Danny and the children if "something should happen to me."

However, Danny and I had debated this issue in great detail during our early years and we opposed abortion, no matter the supposed justification. I well remembered then and now my sister's high school friend, who after a night of indiscretion in 1971 or 1972 found herself in a family way. She could think of nothing but abortion, which was still illegal at the time, and though Debi and I counseled her against it, she could not overcome her fear of her parents' rejection if they found out she was pregnant. A friend of a friend or some such thing put her in contact with a physician in Boulder, Colo., and the deed was done.

She was never the same. A bright, engaging, energetic young woman, with all of her life before her, became -- overnight -- a quiet, subdued young woman who soon retreated from friends and family, eventually cutting off all contact with her former friends. I don't know what happened to her, but I do know that the light of life that had once shone so brightly in her eyes was dimmed almost to the point of extinction the last time I saw her. I pray she has found forgiveness and healing at the same cross that has saved a wretch like me.

The conversations with my close family member continued throughout the weekend, her argument increasing in vehemence with every phone call. Finally, I told her point blank that "The Lord God holds the number of my days in his hand, be that three days, three months, or three decades from now. I will not stand before him and try to explain to him how my life was somehow more valuable than the life he had placed in my womb."

There is no valid argument to that bald-face truth and we never spoke of it again. Obviously, our story had a happy ending. Patrick was delivered in due time, with no ill effects to him or to me throughout the pregnancy because of my deformity.

The argument that silenced her objections all those years ago still stands true today. I do not know why so many lives are afflicted with these debilitating diseases or why so many young vibrant people are waylaid by spinal cord or other paralyzing injuries. But I do know that we are not capable of judging the value of one life over another, whether that life has been fully lived or is just beginning. Science has made it possible for man to overcome many of life's plagues. However, our moral development is sadly lacking, its growth stunted by our own sense of entitlement and pride. It is not, nor has it ever been, our call.

"They built high places for Baal in the Valley of Ben Hinnom to sacrifice their sons and daughters to Moleck, though I never commanded it, nor did it enter my mind that they should do such a thing and so make Judah sin." Jeremiah 32:35 (NIV)

Audio from KNGN 1360 AM:

http://www.kngn.org/mp3/Nor%20Did%20It%20Enter%20My%20Mind.mp3