Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Suffer little children

I read this article about a man named Ken, who was conceived in an act of rape. 

His mother was 15, unmarried and alone.

This is his story... 

Ken explained that he was adopted as an infant, and at age 30, located his birth mother and learned the circumstances of his conception.
“Her story was that she was hit over the head with a baseball bat and was raped at 15. So she went away to Catholic Charities, had me, made the brave decision to keep me — and, well, keep me alive. And then I was adopted and I have three beautiful children now, have been married for 15 years – and I would just like to speak up for those [voice breaks] who have no voice.” 
Ken defended both women who are the victims of rape, and their innocent children who are conceived in violence: “It really eats me up when I hear people talk about rape, because it is horrible. My mother won’t tell me who my father’s name is because he threatened to kill her if she ever said anything. So she has not told me his name, but if I was ever to meet him, the first thing I would probably do is punch him. I think rape is horrible, but what I want to say to women out there is: you can take something that was terribly done to you, and make something good out of it. And that’s, [voice breaks] that’s me.”
Ken talked about growing up in a loving adoptive home – his parents had just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary — and how he shares a relationship with his birth mother, her husband, and their children (his half-siblings). He expressed gratitude for his birth mother’s going through so much to give him life. He admired how she rebuilt her life after her assault, pregnancy, and adoption placement, saying: “That was a hard time in her life. She sacrificed a lot….But she moved on in her life, and she was able to overcome the shame that was put on her.”
He urged people to see that children conceived in rape are just as human, just as “real”, as everyone else.
“It’s an emotional topic because I just get tired of people treating these unborn children like they’re, like they’re nothing. And they can be born, and they can grow up, and they can have a great life.”

Most of all, they are human beings...

More than 2000 years ago, there was another girl, maybe younger who found herself with a child and chose to have him. 

His name was Jesus and his mother was, Mary. 


"I have called you by name; you are mine!" Is 43:1

He was still a toddler when He and his parents had to flee from their town. The ruler of that land gave the order to massacre all male chidren, 2 years and under.

Strange! The blindness of not recognising the humanity of a child within the womb can well extend into their early years. The rage of a tyrant wiped out an entire generation in his state

I was born in the 80's. Many of my generation never lived to be born because they were considered less-than-human. They called it choice then, now it's some sort of 'right'.

How come no one ever recognises the unborn for what they truly are- a Gift, a Blessing, a Ray of Hope?

Saturday, September 8, 2012

A Season of Waiting

There is a season of waiting...

The Good Book makes much of this season. It begins with the waiting for the Messiah just after the Fall and it end with the waiting for the return of The King.

Abraham waiting a hundred years for Isaac to be, is lot of time. But 40 years of wandering about in a desert to reach the Promised Land is enough to make one cry. 

And yes, the desert. Why does it always have to be in the desert?

The strange thing about this desert is that it's not necessarily geographical. Jonah's desert was a the belly of a whale. A Whale! Have any of you ever got a chance to sniff the breadth of a blue whale!
Jesus had his desert in a garden.
The Mother of God had her's for three days in the house of John, son of Zebedee, before she saw her Son after she laid him in the tomb. 
And some of us find this desert in our very souls. A dryness that companionship and prayer does nothing to elevate.


Even the Saviour was alone in his waiting

And then there is the waiting... 

I personally dislike having to wait- whether be it in queues or for websites to load or for promises to unfold. Most of all, I dislike ambiguous waiting-in-the-dark type of situations! The kind where you do not know what is expected at the end of the wait. The wait would become a little bit less painful if at least you know what is expected, is to be. But strangely, that is not the hope that is promised to us.


"But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it." - Rom 8:25 

 When I cannot see, it is to walk with eyes of faith. Blessed are those whose eyes are turned towards the Lord of Hosts and believe that good things await the righteous.

Sometimes, with waiting in the desert comes doubt and hopelessness. The death of hope where hope once was, only makes the darkness darker. This cynicism made Sarah laugh inside the tent. A defeatism that made Nathaniel wonder if even God could bring good out of Nazareth. Then there is regret, which caused the Israelites to murmur against Moses.

But in the waiting is purification. A deadening of the senses and awakening of the Spirit. A fullness that the saints speak of, in the midst of poverty. God loves the desert. He knows that there can be no distractions and no other who can penetrate your soul as He could. There he will make you wait till your thirst for him is cleaned of every unworthy intention but to have him alone. In the desert you will learn the depth of your love for the Lord. You will understand hope, in no other way as from Hope himself. In the desert...

...he will come, like the bridegroom in the night, softly calling your name. You will not see him but you know that the Master is near. 

When the waiting is done and your cup is full, then will you understand, why the waiting, why the desert?