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Marking a sad anniversary

On January 22, 1973, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down its historic Roe v. Wade ruling, a decision that made abortion legal in this country across all fifty states. That marked a sad day for our nation.

The decision split our country into two camps: pro choice and pro life. Those who ascribed to the pro choice point of view operated under the assumption that they had the right to do whatever they wanted to with their bodies. That was true, to a certain extent. However, they failed to consider that an abortion not only involves their body, but the body of another human being, their own child.

If you’ve never seen an abortion, there are plenty of very graphic videos on the Internet to choose from. Pick one. The opportunity is there to educate yourself and turn your stomach inside out. Challenge yourself. Just see if you can watch one in its entirety without becoming physically ill. Look me in the eye and tell me your heart didn’t ache for that child who will never run in the sunshine because an abortionist wrenched his legs from his body. In all honesty, tell me you couldn’t stop the tears for the baby that will never grow to hold a child of her own because someone ripped her arms from her body. If you can tell me that none of it affected you, then you have a heart of stone and I weep for you.

And I weep for the 100 million babies whose eyes will never see a sunrise or take joy in the blue of the sky. One hundred million is a huge number to wrap your head around, but those are the estimates of surgical and chemical abortions in this country since Rove v. Wade, about one-third of the total U.S. population.

We have lost a whole generation of promise to abortion and now we weep.