A couple of days ago we had my kids' best friends over for a playdate. My son had such a hard time sharing their toys this time! Not all the toys, just an apparently very special superman superman cape. Jimmy had such a tantrum when I took the cape from him, I had to lay him in the guestroom for a timeout, til he calmed down and could share. Even after that, he was reluctant rather than gracious, I guess you could say.
That night after our regular prayer time, when we say our regular prayers for our family, for the military, and for "all the babies in the bellies," I realized Jimmy was probably old enough to start praying some personal prayers. I told him that I understand it's hard to share, but that he can pray for God to help him get better at it. I told him God can help him with lots of things, that he can pray for God to help him learn t-ball, share with his friends, learn to read, God can even help him have patience with his sister. He seemed to be thinking about it. We'll see what happens a prayer time tonight.
Today they played with their friends again, and had a great time, no sharing problems at all. Of course, we weren't at home, with our toys at stake. But it went very well, and when we got home, Jimmy was thirsty and hungry. He tried getting some water in the kitchen and spilled it all over the floor, I handed him a bunch of paper towels, which he promptly wiped his hands on, tossed on the counter, and then he left to go play. I was too tired to chase him to come clean up, so I took the paper towels and wiped it myself.
A little later, we sat down to watch an episode of Kim Possible together while Mary napped, and Jimmy remembered he was hungry.
Jimmy: Mom, can you get me some food?
Me: (Choosing not to correct his style of asking) Sure, I suppose I can get you some food.
Jimmy: And while you are in there, you should clean up that big mess I made.
Me: Jimmy, first of all, you are talking really bossy to me, and that is not respectful. Kids don't tell grownups what they should do. Second, I already cleaned it up, but I shouldn't have. YOU should have cleaned it up!
Jimmy: But you know I don't like cleaning up big messes!
Me: I don't like cleaning up big messes either.
Jimmy: Well, you should pray about that, Mom.
I realize this post is over a year old, but I could not pass by without comment.
"I can't think of a reasonable basis for opposing an early and merciful end to this particular pregnancy."
I carried my second child, who was diagnosed with anencephaly, for the full term. She was born alive and wiggling, and I held her sweet body in my arms for three days, until she quietly passed away, having been loved by her mom every millisecond of her life in this world. There is nothing unreasonable about expecting a mom to love her baby, ANY baby, however heartbreaking that is. The constitution does not guarantee us freedom from heartbreak. Babies are born imperfect every day, and they still deserve every bit as much love, and protection under the law, as perfectly healthy babies.
"And in fact I very much doubt that more than a tiny proportion of "right-to-life" voters or leaders would want themselves or women they cared about to bring such a monster to term."
Shame on you for calling any tiny helpless being a monster. As for the people who carry these babies, and the people who care about us . . . you don't know what or who you are talking about. Women who choose not to carry such babies to term still go through the SAME medical trauma, just earlier, and they deny themselves the opportunity to love fully, and to grieve fully . . . and to move on, fully at peace.
I for one am glad that the NAVY hospital that diagnosed my baby did not offer "termination." Every single person there treated my baby as a baby, and treated her with as much value as any baby. I have met many, many moms, who went to civilian hosptials, who were encouraged to terminate, indeed wheeled to l&d within hours of diagnosis, when you are still in shock and denial. That is what a culture that tolerates abortion becomes. Abortion cheapens life, devalues it. Imperfect life becomes expendable. Replacable.
It is one thing for a woman to choose a safe and legal procedure, fully accepting the trauma and risks. But it is a much darker, colder thing to demand that we, the people, should subsidize it.