Can I be real with you?
Of course I can. I don’t need permission from anyone to be who I am.
Or do I?
I want to be honest with you.
I want to know that you’ll forgive me before I even begin.
But I know that’s not possible.
I know when I say what I don’t want to say and what I have to say, it can’t be un-said.
It’ll be out there for the internet trolls to devour and hold over me for the remainder of my life.
Today, I celebrate 39 years of life.
It’s been a wild ride.
I’ve received awards, several degrees, and accolades from thousands.
I pledged my allegiance to my country.
I’ve done ministry with the man I love.
I’ve witnessed miracles.
I’ve been truth in a world of lies.
I’ve been light in someone’s depression.
I’ve walked through hell.
I’ve been redeemed by love.
I’ve lost a family.
But there’s something else.
There’s something that I face daily that keeps me on my knees.
It’s the reason I don’t throw stones.
It’s the reason I hear you even when you don’t say it.
I’ve committed murder.
I didn’t know that’s what it was.
Back then, I made a choice.
I didn’t know God and I didn’t understand the blessing that was growing in my belly.
I didn’t know that my terror, doubts, questions and fear of the unknown could be dealt with.
I didn’t know that choice was murder.
I didn’t know the lifetime of regret that would haunt me every. single. day.
I didn’t know that I would torment myself over that day, that choice.
Can I just take a breathe for second?
I rarely share that I’m a murdering Pro-life Christian.
It requires guts.
It requires serious faith in a Father that forgives.
It requires that I turn the other cheek when the inevitable judgment smacks me in the face.
If you want to be sure that I’m ashamed of my selfish decision, I assure you I am.
If you want me to be ashamed of myself, I assure you I’m not.
God made it abundantly clear who I am.
This past weekend was surreal.
Hundreds of thousands of women marched for political and religious reasons.
Did you know that the March For Life happened last weekend? Did you know that this Pro-Life event has taken place for the last 44 years?
This past weekend was the anniversary of the landmark court decision, Roe Vs. Wade.
And it was my anniversary…
Here’s the thing about last weekend.
Regardless of who you are and what you believe, the weekend is over.
It’s back to the typical grind.
I don’t march.
I hate crowds.
I’d rather take action.
I’d rather change one life than be on the news.
Did you know that you can volunteer to counsel young women?
Did you know that you can make a ripple of change in your community?
Did you know that you can tweet, Facebook message, email, and call your local news station and demand that they cover the Pro-Life movement?
I don’t like the sexualization of women.
So, I confront it.
When inappropriate titles show up on my cable guide, I call the cable company and demand they remove it.
When nude photos make it to newsstands in my community, I ask the store manager to put them behind a magazine guard or remove them completely.
When a woman is forced to make a decision that can leave lasting wounds, I listen.
If you like crowds, then march your heart out.
If you want to make a difference, make it.
The power has always been ours.
Remember, the battle has been won.