The Crisis Pregnancy Center Lie

After being accused of lying, or at least not stopping? lying, I looked it up–were CPCs nefariously posing as abortion clinics in order to dupe the unsuspectingly pregnant into not killing their unborn children?!

Maybe.

Interesting because it has not been my experience that they did that. I went through a CPC training course many, many years ago and was very impressed by the quality of the training. The leaders emphasized that the CPC counselors were there to

  1. Help
  2. Listen
  3. Not impose their own beliefs or agenda

They seemed wise, kind, calm, and their cookies were warm and homemade.

That being said, let us be very straight on this–as far as I can tell (from the internet) not one single human being–ambulatory or prenatal–has ever been deprived of life by the machinations of any Crisis Pregnancy Center.

So perhaps we should ask ourselves this–if your pregnant mother had walked (in crisis) into either a very truthful abortion facilitatory or a very deceptive crisis pregnancy center, which would have given you, the still pre-birthday you, a chance at living long enough to read this blog?

We will all be judge by the sign makers of Auschwitz for we have had the power to speak freely on the behalf of our murdered unborn daughters…

Unwilling or unable to acknowledge which side Harriet Tubman, Corrie Ten Boom, or Anne Frank would take in this brouhaha over deadly truths and life-affirming deceptions.

A.D.

Matthew 28:5-7 NIV

[5] The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. [6] He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. [7] Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”

The Coat Sez

It is a small label inside a second-hand London fog. Sez “waterproof” in a way that means tell the dam story. Which I tell in my head in one way or another

Every day

Protagonists too vivid to fictionalize and actual jackass antagonists who are surprisingly two dimensional for real people in a small

Awful story I don’t want to tell, but my lovely black raincoat says I must.

4:21 am

After a solid fudging week of losing thumb wars to the god of grief I decide to change my stance.

Fine, I say, keep me up if you want, but we are going to do this together.

Make no mistake. He is not my friend. He is the quiet satellite tech on the slow train north. He is the Russian student who used to try to beguile me with roses and sweet talk. He is the dark standing just shy of sunset. All these years I have avoided his gaze, pretended I didn’t notice him at the same parties, never wailed and pummeled his dark, cold chest.

You win, I say, snake hole, only to realize he hasn’t, can’t because You have already–no matter how many days to resurrection.

3/15/44 BC

They say that JC fought hard until he saw Brutus among his assailants. How well-thought-out is death by a thousand cuts? And would it matter to us if he had called him child in the dying hour? These are my ides-of-March musings, as if we were not warned he was the god of war, not love hanging over us. I do small calculations–how old was the world when Julius Caesar died? How long until that other kind of King? Easter is coming, sure as each sign of spring, but there has never been a resurrection without some kind of dying first.

How to clean a toilet

When I tell you I found the old mushroom-colored sweatshirt which saw us through thick and thin you will know I am talking about the way the Romans used to have it done, long pole, wad of cloth, vinegar soaked as we raise it to the real hero, his naked pain, the way he eschews ordinary safety for a stretched-to-the-limits agony

I take the brush, add the cleanser, wipe it all down with an uneasy litany

Drab for color

Old for young

Plain for beautiful

Forgotten for remembered

He says

Me for you

Death for life

Life, everlasting.

Any Boat in a Storm

It has been 30 years since I made the (not very complicated) decision not to vote for political candidates who support abortion.

Abortion on-demand–at-all-is and will be our generation’s genocide stain. The comparison to other genocidal impulses* is not that difficult to make–

  • Genocide systematically dehumanizes the victims
  • Genocide creates words and epithets to divide victims and devalue them from the rest of us
  • Genocide targets people who are legally exposed, minorities, female, from disenfranchised classes (often created through the repeated use of dehumanizing terms), the medically fragile, people whose basic human rights have been suspended or exempted
  • Genocide finds ways to stigmatize and blame the victims
  • Genocide labels victims as “unwanted”
  • Genocide institutionalizes, regularizes, industrializes, and monetizes mass murder
  • And many times genocide co-ops scientists and medical professionals by couching the process of mass killing as medically necessary or scientifically interesting
  • Genocide kills people.

Do you know the statistics for aborted people in your state, country or region? Do you know when it was legalized and who it targets?

You should.

We all should.

We will have to make an account for every one.

*for the purpose of cohesion I have not separated out gendercide, femicide, or the systemic killing of disabled people, all of which characterize abortion and have been components of genocide as well.

Harvey

on the door of the high school my daughters do not attend the poster has been affixed Harvey…Jimmy Stewart-6-foot-rabbit-Harvey

Not hurricane Harvey

Not Hollywood crap Harvey

Flooding of one kind or another 

Reminds-me-of-all-our-befores-and-afters-Harvey

All the quiet people who always knew but not only said nothing but also, let’s face it-

Went along.

Going along will make a girl get mighty quiet

Or something.

Something close to a literal hell.