I try to remember what a normal life was like, before I was gripped by the mass slaughter of little babies. I try to imagine living a normal life again.
But these days I think normal people living normal lives are weird. These days I think I’m the normal one and they’re not.
If I go on vacation long enough, I begin to remember what normal was like. But I can’t stay there. Abortion has changed me.
I don’t dwell on any of this too much. Clearly it’s complicated. But I read something profound today on this very topic, an affirmation. It was in my friend Monica Miller’s upcoming book, Abandoned: The Untold Story of the Abortion Wars. Monica gave me permission to share this excerpt with you, my pro-life friends who can identify with what I’ve been talking about. I hope it helps you. It helped me:
One Saturday afternoon I was actually overcome with this sense of being different.
I had just returned to my Rogers Park apartment after sidewalk-counseling at Albany. It had been a hard morning. Out on the sidewalk Donna and I had spoken to a woman for over 20 minutes and she agreed with everything we said. She agreed the unborn baby was human, and that the baby had a right to live. She even agreed that abortion was a sin, but in the end she went into the clinic.
Now as I stood alone in my kitchen, I played back the conversation in my head. As I prepared myself a simple lunch I continued to think about the loss of the child. I opened the door to the refrigerator to retrieve a carton of milk. In the midst of reaching into the refrigerator my hand stopped. I was gripped by a realization. I thought, “I’m not living in a normal world anymore.”
Standing there, suspended in time with one arm in the fridge, I realized that “normal” could not apply to a world in which the murder of the unborn was protected by law – and that I could no longer consider myself a normal person. I knew that I could not live my life in the expected way….
To be pro-life is to be enveloped by a desperate, agonizing moment in history. As awareness of injustice grips you, you cannot free yourself and it is a suffering. Here was terrible loneliness. I felt alienated from the world. I even felt alienated from my own country. Words like “liberty and justice for all” didn’t seem real to me.
At the same time I also knew this was a time for great good. I knew lives could be saved. But I also felt the burden of being aware that a whole segment of the human family was denied their right to live.