Saturday, December 19, 2009

Abortion; My Two Cents' Worth

To me, abortion is killing a live baby. Period. Hence abortion is appropriate, to me, only when there is a real, bona-fide threat to the Mother's continuing to live. None of that "quality of life" issue about the Mother.

Some years ago, I counseled a young lady who told me she'd had an abortion years before, had since married and had children, and was wrestling mightily with guilt over having flushed a baby into the sink. I told her of God's redeeming love and His overwhelming forgiveness of sin, beyond that which we might feel we "deserve". She seemed comforted. But that episode put a real concern, in my heart, for women who have abortions, only to come to grips with their guilt over it .. whether in this life, or the life to come.

The next day, in my office, I was struck by the urge to write about it, and I could not focus on anything else until I finished the poem. Frankly, I didn't like the dark mood that came over me, and I found no relief until the last line appeared on my screen, at which point I knew I'd found the title for the poem

It follows.


The clinics were filling with souls gone astray
As the sadness of badness was having its way
The wealthy, the learned, concerned but with pleasure
Had multiplied misery to heights beyond measure

The masses raised glasses to self and to friends
Concerned with the moment, availing all ends
To serve but themselves, with never a thought
Of the millions of murders, and what they had wrought.

But what of that young one, confused and forlorn ..
Who hears mostly "worldness", shouldn't we warn
That should she die, having salvation received
In heaven she may face that soul she conceived

But killed, by means of abortionists' tools
And thus joined the ranks of those Godless fools
Who elevate mankind and pleasure on earth
At the cost of most everything of heavenly worth

And what of the seemingly intelligent mass
With doctoral credentials and worldly class
Who'll stand before God some day and explain
Why such agony, misery, anguish and pain

Were dealt out in measure unknown by the world
As satan's great plan to destroy us unfurled
And they, in their "wisdom", shed innocent blood
Tearing out children, in that terrible flood....

Who knows what to do and yet does it not
Is guilty of sin ... yet we know that a lot
Of good souls detesting such abomination
Have never submitted to Christ's domination

Else all that we do, and all that we say
Would speak volumes against those events of this day
That cause those who look on this product of woe
To know with a certainty that satan's the foe.

So sadness envelopes us all, without choice
For those who raise not a protesting voice
And all those who face not the fruit of their acts
And doctors who kill despite biblical facts

Will all face a judge asking why, in this life
We did what we did, whether with word or with knife
I know I'll plead Jesus as my only answer
But yet I'm not happy, in the face of the cancer

Of ungodly clinics, and churches that never
Cause comfortable members to be driven to sever
Those clandestine footholds our enemy will hold
In lives that won't do what the Bible has told.

Oh God, may I ask; make me up to the task
As a witness to all, whether they ask
Or silently march to those clinics to kill
Your innocent children ... in darkness so still.


  1. this is a really good poem!! so glad you wrote it!

  2. Just noticed the comment. Thanks for reading and commenting, Kathleen.

  3. Wonderful writing, very sad subject! God bless you!