Give Us "It's a Wonderful Life" & Give Us Death?

This November when I slip my marked form into the ballot machine, and it suctions away those votes from my fingertips, I know I will want to retrieve them. Because my wonderful life might never be the same. I will earnestly seek for normal, searching beyond normal. But both, long ago, disappeared into thin air.

To live in a town like George Bailey's homespun, 1940s Bedford Falls is in the deep-down hearts of many. To have Maw, Paw, Brother, and life-long friends living just around the corner. To be a heart-string-pulling advocate for the down-trodden, give bread to the struggling, and to provide a hand-up to immigrants. I think of it as unpolished liberty, like those rights championed by Bailey in the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life."

If given a choice, who would want to live in Bailey's nemesis, grimy-town Pottersville? Where dark bars and casino-like places run rampant, and around every corner lives spite. There are only a few who want to protect their rights to Pottersville. Authoritarian, spite-master Potter and his little minions. Because they profit from every aspect of their polished monopoly.

It sounds to me like there is one 21st-Century Presidential candidate who wants homespun liberty. Her spouse and others warmly share of her years-long track record for championing young children's issues. I truly admire her resilience, and I am almost swayed.

But then there is the trumping caveat that tears at my thumping heart... will she champion for the life of the unborn? The unborn appear insignificant because of their subtle heartbeats and tiny size. They cannot speak for their rights, and they are the most vulnerable. In modern-day times, attention is given to the loudest protesters and the squeaky wheels. So then, who professes a concern for protecting quiet lives?

I remember in high school health class being basically forced to view a graphic movie that taught the medical procedures available to abort a fetus. The suctioning, and fluids, and broken pieces. I identified with the mother's pain and the remains. I literally fainted afterward. And Dad had to leave work early to pick up his wimpy daughter from school. My feelings were intense, and I was scarred.

We all have at least one common bond. We have been-in-the-susceptible-womb-and-done-that. Black, Muslim, Asian, White, Men, Women, LGBT. Deep within our mothers' bellies, we created early on, indistinct flutters. Then, we performed acrobatic feats, and we pressed our tiny fists and feet against our mother's uterine wall. We were protected, one way or another, for each mom's better or maybe even for her worse.

Jesus experienced the womb. He could have been killed by a crazed king, almost like being aborted. His father, guided by the Heavenly Father, was able to protect Jesus. Those who care about the unborn are, in a way, supporting a cause that is close to the heart of Jesus. IF there truly is one party who will champion this silent minority, my voting trade-off brings with it a fear. The fear of the unknown and uncharted territory.

Today

 I.Feel.Torn.By.

The rights of the vulnerable unborn

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; 

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.

Proverbs 3:5-6 (New KJV)