But every woman was once a child in the womb. And when exactly did her right to choice get started if not from the very beginning?
Because it’s hard to say my right to choice trumps my toddlers right to life. So somewhere in there it starts to get all muddled, because little girls become the women, if only they can make it out alive.
And you’ve got women marching as some form of solidarity but what’s curiously absent is the standing up for the smallest of girls, the future women that will take up the mantel of this nation.
Can you really say you’re a movement for justice, a resistance against the status quo when the very people leading the movement are pushing hard to make sure some voices never get heard?
It’s an uncomfortable truth in an age of individual freedom and the mistaken belief that my choice doesn’t affect your choice.
But as People of the Cross we know that no man is an island and if we’re not living life bumping up against one another, then it’s no life at all.
And we’re commanded to take care of those widows and orphans which you could say in our modern day are the women left struggling to raise their babes on their own because they’ve been abandoned. And those babes are the ones looking around wondering where Daddy went, praying for someone to give them a name and a place to call home.
It can seem so much easier to label ourselves by a political position yet stay out of the muck and the mess and the bleeding fray of this ugly wound.
Yet while we wait, some 60 million future men and women have lost their lives and maybe it’s not enough to just sit in a label.
Because when this whole thing gets wrapped, what’s going to matter most is not how many people agreed with you or liked what you had to post or even marched along side you.
Abba Father, he’s going to ask what we did for the least of these. And that children’s poet, didn’t he write that a persons a person no matter how small?
From where I’m sitting, that’s a good place to start.