A searing indictment of the conventional wisdom that assures us that women do not suffer emotional or psychological trauma as a direct result of having undergone an abortion. I have no doubt that if 20 women read this article, more than half of them could directly relate to the feelings described by the subjects of the counseling session described, all of whom were in treatment for issues seemingly unrelated to their past abortions.
It's time we stopped pretending that the only victims of abortion are buried away as sad remembrances of the 'difficult choices' one makes in life. On the contrary, the living victims remain with us in ever greater numbers, men and women whose wounds are manifested in broken families, broken lives, substance abuse, eating disorders and a myriad of other ways that describe what happens when people need to numb a pain that simply will not subside on its own. Fortunately, help is available for those walking wounded who want it. There is a Balm in Gilead.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Tornado Alley Needs Some Heroes...
Since I wasn't able to find a clearinghouse of relief organizations for the recent devastation in the south, I thought I would just do a little research and publish what I found so that people have a place to go where they can then choose among the many different opportunities to help. The following organizations are either well-known first responders capable of meeting immediate needs, relief organizations used to handling the clean-up, housing and other needs in the aftermath of a disaster, or local churches and other organizations whose long-term ties to the community put them in the best position to meet the particular needs to which they are suited. Please consider the possible ways in which you might personally get involved in helping out others who have been hit so hard in recent weeks, whether that help is extended by the donation of money, goods, or even yourself/your family to help out in the clean-up efforts. The need is great.
WORLD VISION: http://www.worldvision.org/#/home/main/tornadoes-american-south-1-1389
SAMARITAN'S PURSE: http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/articles/responding_to_deadly_tornadoes/
RED CROSS: https://american.redcross.org/site/Donation2?4882.donation=form1&idb=1495181504&df_id=4882&gclid=CPHJ4MXVyagCFch-5QodClVQpg
A TENNESSEE Red Cross chapter is seeking volunteer workers: http://www.wbir.com/news/article/168258/2/Red-Cross-looking-for-volunteers-to-help-TN-tornado--flood-victims
Here's an ALABAMA news piece which lists some other organizations and needs for both goods and volunteers locally. http://blog.al.com/spotnews/2011/04/alabama_tornadoes_how_you_can.html
Ditto for MISSISSIPPI: http://www.wtva.com/content/alertbarblank/story/How-you-can-help-the-tornado-victims/AKYnBc1bnEe1W4x6Ce8dXw.cspx
When I see the pictures of the devastation I must admit I have a hard time relating. To walk outside your house and not be able to see the familiar landmarks that have stood like sentinals to mark out the boundaries of your home, your neighborhood, your entire town, seems far more believable as a Twilight Zone episode than the reality of life as experienced by thousands in the southern states. And that's without considering the deeper devastation of the lives lost. Today's ability to view disasters in real-time technicolor detail can even overwhelm our very willingness to help, if only because the depth of need appears so great compared to our abilities to provide whatever help we can. But that simply isn't true. Every donation makes a difference.
I am only one, but I am one.
I cannot do everything,
but I can do something.
And I will not let what I cannot do
interfere with what I can do.
~Edward Everett Hale
THANKS for considering helping!
WORLD VISION: http://www.worldvision.org/#/home/main/tornadoes-american-south-1-1389
SAMARITAN'S PURSE: http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/articles/responding_to_deadly_tornadoes/
RED CROSS: https://american.redcross.org/site/Donation2?4882.donation=form1&idb=1495181504&df_id=4882&gclid=CPHJ4MXVyagCFch-5QodClVQpg
A TENNESSEE Red Cross chapter is seeking volunteer workers: http://www.wbir.com/news/article/168258/2/Red-Cross-looking-for-volunteers-to-help-TN-tornado--flood-victims
Here's an ALABAMA news piece which lists some other organizations and needs for both goods and volunteers locally. http://blog.al.com/spotnews/2011/04/alabama_tornadoes_how_you_can.html
Ditto for MISSISSIPPI: http://www.wtva.com/content/alertbarblank/story/How-you-can-help-the-tornado-victims/AKYnBc1bnEe1W4x6Ce8dXw.cspx
When I see the pictures of the devastation I must admit I have a hard time relating. To walk outside your house and not be able to see the familiar landmarks that have stood like sentinals to mark out the boundaries of your home, your neighborhood, your entire town, seems far more believable as a Twilight Zone episode than the reality of life as experienced by thousands in the southern states. And that's without considering the deeper devastation of the lives lost. Today's ability to view disasters in real-time technicolor detail can even overwhelm our very willingness to help, if only because the depth of need appears so great compared to our abilities to provide whatever help we can. But that simply isn't true. Every donation makes a difference.
I am only one, but I am one.
I cannot do everything,
but I can do something.
And I will not let what I cannot do
interfere with what I can do.
~Edward Everett Hale
THANKS for considering helping!
Friday, April 22, 2011
King of Glory; Man of Sorrows
A time is coming
and in fact has come
when you will be scattered,
each to your own home.
You will leave me all alone.
Yet I am not alone,
for my Father is with me.~John 16:32
With these words Jesus revealed to his disciples that he knew the depth of their weakness, offering a measure of comfort despite their lack of understanding. I wonder who among them might have recalled these words, even as each one crouched uneasily behind his own door of denial, shrinking back as the maddening crowds made their way to Golgotha.
Even as he comforted his disciples, he reminded them (and us) that he was never alone. His father would remain with him until the final moment when payment would be extracted. On top of the beatings, on top of the scourging, on top of the bloody humiliation, it was the separation that would cost him the dearest, that would strike the deepest wound.
No element of Jesus' life or path to the cross was wasted. No tears fell for naught, not a drop of blood spilt without purpose. His journey from the throne to the cross was the greatest distance ever covered in time or in eternity, the largest chasm ever breached here or in the hereafter. There are no words to describe the King's ransom that was paid to reach down to me, and to you, and lift us from the mire of our sin and debasement from which we could not (try as we might) extricate ourselves. As if that were not enough to turn our hearts of stone into flesh, in his extravagance he clothed us with his own righteousness. The perfection of Him who shined with sinless purity was transferred to our account, making what was once worthless into royalty of inestimable worth. Inestimable because he paid for it, royal because of our adoption as His children.
I have been studying Philippians and pondering the imponderable, which is to contemplate the heights of glory Jesus descended in order to reach us. He willingly laid aside the outward manifestation of his glory to breach the walls of humanity and meet us at our point of need. The King of Glory become the Man of Sorrows to save the likes of me, and of you. In order to understand that most un-God-ly transaction, one needs to at least attempt to wrap one's mind around the holiness of God, an impossibility which defies exaggeration. But the attempt itself is an exercise in knowing Him, and one in which, while acknowledging the Mt. Everest in front of me (and I arriving jacketless and barefoot!), I can yet sense Jesus - my Savior friend - holding out his hand and bidding me come and follow - He shall lead the way! And so He has, and because of Him I have sometimes felt as if I have stood outside the very door of Glory as-it-were, and somehow caught a glimpse of the tiniest sliver of the white-hot light shining forth from the throne room of God. It is a trembling, humbling beholding that is most un-earthly.
There is a sense in which we cannot grasp the depth of our own depravity and need for a savior until we comprehend something of the holiness of God. In The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Quasimodo, though aware of his hideous appearance, does not fully comprehend it until he is in the tower with the woman. It isn't until he is close to her that he says: "I did not know how ugly I was, until I saw how beautiful you were."
and in fact has come
when you will be scattered,
each to your own home.
You will leave me all alone.
Yet I am not alone,
for my Father is with me.~John 16:32
With these words Jesus revealed to his disciples that he knew the depth of their weakness, offering a measure of comfort despite their lack of understanding. I wonder who among them might have recalled these words, even as each one crouched uneasily behind his own door of denial, shrinking back as the maddening crowds made their way to Golgotha.
Even as he comforted his disciples, he reminded them (and us) that he was never alone. His father would remain with him until the final moment when payment would be extracted. On top of the beatings, on top of the scourging, on top of the bloody humiliation, it was the separation that would cost him the dearest, that would strike the deepest wound.
No element of Jesus' life or path to the cross was wasted. No tears fell for naught, not a drop of blood spilt without purpose. His journey from the throne to the cross was the greatest distance ever covered in time or in eternity, the largest chasm ever breached here or in the hereafter. There are no words to describe the King's ransom that was paid to reach down to me, and to you, and lift us from the mire of our sin and debasement from which we could not (try as we might) extricate ourselves. As if that were not enough to turn our hearts of stone into flesh, in his extravagance he clothed us with his own righteousness. The perfection of Him who shined with sinless purity was transferred to our account, making what was once worthless into royalty of inestimable worth. Inestimable because he paid for it, royal because of our adoption as His children.
I have been studying Philippians and pondering the imponderable, which is to contemplate the heights of glory Jesus descended in order to reach us. He willingly laid aside the outward manifestation of his glory to breach the walls of humanity and meet us at our point of need. The King of Glory become the Man of Sorrows to save the likes of me, and of you. In order to understand that most un-God-ly transaction, one needs to at least attempt to wrap one's mind around the holiness of God, an impossibility which defies exaggeration. But the attempt itself is an exercise in knowing Him, and one in which, while acknowledging the Mt. Everest in front of me (and I arriving jacketless and barefoot!), I can yet sense Jesus - my Savior friend - holding out his hand and bidding me come and follow - He shall lead the way! And so He has, and because of Him I have sometimes felt as if I have stood outside the very door of Glory as-it-were, and somehow caught a glimpse of the tiniest sliver of the white-hot light shining forth from the throne room of God. It is a trembling, humbling beholding that is most un-earthly.
There is a sense in which we cannot grasp the depth of our own depravity and need for a savior until we comprehend something of the holiness of God. In The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Quasimodo, though aware of his hideous appearance, does not fully comprehend it until he is in the tower with the woman. It isn't until he is close to her that he says: "I did not know how ugly I was, until I saw how beautiful you were."
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