I've written out posts and status updates in my head over and over and over. I can't make the words right and say it all the right way.
But I have to write something as fumbly and thick-tongued as it may be because I can't get it out of my head, you guys. I can't not write something. And I can't write something else before I at least acknowledge this mess in my head.
The videos that are available unedited that are available for anyone to see that without any doubt show that these little babies' bodies are systematically torn apart, priced, and sold.
Please don't waste anyone's time or offend their intelligence with arguments otherwise.
And please don't DARE state an opinion defending it or excusing it until you yourself have watched those videos. Because intellectual integrity. It's a thing.
I can't stop thinking about, knowing, that these tiny babies are being ripped apart while still alive.
IT'S REALLY HAPPENING.
The horror is not ultimately that they are being sold but that they are being killed in the first place.
I mean, I knew that. I've known it my whole life. I was raised pro-life. Two of my sisters were even arrested when Operation Rescue planned a several week protest in Buffalo. I was in grade school and went to some of the pickets and rallies. I saw the anger and spit of the escorts first hand. I saw the pictures. But somehow over the years it quieted itself in my mind. I knew it was there but perhaps unconsciously as a way to survive, God help me, I chose to forget. Or at least, turn it into a cause. A prayer intention. Now, it's hitting me hard that it's still going on. I see the videos and I remember and can't forget. It's still happening thousands of times a day through pills, poisons, vacuums, forceps. The killings are still happening.
And I've barely done a thing about it.
I want it out of my head and yet I don't. I'm so so tired of pretending like this isn't a big deal. Like we are not living in the new holocaust. Because we are. Except that it's not new anymore. It's forty-two, forty-two, years old and we've barely done a thing about it. We are so used to it that we barely recognize it as evil ourselves. It's almost like to continue on living and not be paralyzed with the reality of it all we have to pretend it's not happening. We have to forget for a little while just to get dinner on the table. I know that I somehow have to know and not know all at the same time because the past few days I've felt paralyzed by the knowledge and that probably isn't helping anyone. I don't know right now how to find that balance. And yet what if this "need" to forget by the normal nobody folk is exactly what has kept the massacre going on for so damn long?
I've heard people say they just can't watch the videos. It's too much.
It's too much.
ONE is too much.
Our minds can barely grasp the thought of millions.
Our answer can't be to let other people fight the battle. The mystical magical people who are "called."
WE ARE CALLED. EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO BELIEVES THAT A BIG PERSON SHOULD NEVER TAKE THE LIFE OF A LITTLE PERSON IS CALLED.
Yesterday I brought it to Confession because I didn't know what else to do with this ache in my stomach and heart. I hate that I haven't done more, though I don't even know what that should have been. Not at all coincidentally, the priest there was an older man from Poland. One who knows the power of evil well. He talked about the evils he had seen there and elsewhere and the powerful witness of family life.
I wish I could say that I walked away comforted. I at least walked away forgiven. Forgiven for all the things I haven't done.
But I still know I need to do more.
I don't know what that means specifically. I don't know how to do it the best way.
But I have to do something. I know I need to pray a whole lot more, at least.
Because I've held that 10 week old product of conception in my hands. And even though that baby had died a few weeks before and his little body was already starting to break down, I could still see the little head and back and arm buds of my precious Joseph Mary.
I've held an 18 week old baby in my arms. That blob of tissue. My nephew. A completely formed baby with sweet tiny toes and a perfectly formed mouth. His name was Charles.
Those two lives were no more inherently valuable just because they had people that cried for them.
We all feel helpless. We all feel too little against the machine. But together we are a mighty force and they don't want us to know it.
Praying. Fasting. Sharing on Facebook and everywhere. Liking posts on social media to keep it trending. Voting. Rallying. Boycotting. Donating. Writing. Signing petitions. Taking care of the babies and mothers that are saved. Treating every single child, including our own, as a gift. And, of course, extending mercy, prayer, and love to those who were swallowed into the lie and are now grieving their lost children. All of it is something.
I have to do something. It might not be the perfect thing but damn it, it's something. We can spend our time picking apart the methods of other people from our armchairs or we can actually do something, however imperfect it may be.
Because otherwise I will be no better than the people who did nothing during all the other holocausts in history. Worse, probably. Because I have a lot more recourse and knowledge than they did. I know Jesus is bigger than all of this. But I also know we are required to fight injustice and we dare not do nothing.
We can't pretend we don't know anymore. We just can't. A part of me wants to hide still. To close my eyes and pretend it's not happening. Pretend that what I do won't ultimately make a difference. But at the very least, it makes a difference for my own soul. I know now and God help me if I choose to forget.
"... you should put away the old self of your former way of life, corrupted through deceitful desires, and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new self, created in God’s way in righteousness and holiness of truth."
(Ephesians 4:22-24 from today's second reading)
First time here? If you're interested you can get new Better Than Eden posts on Feedly or BlogLovin' and connect with me on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest. Thank you so much for stopping by!