trying to have the commercial pulled, and its contents have become the talk of the internet and are quick becoming the stuff of network news overplay. See that wholesome-looking young man pictured on the right? That's the guy causing all the trouble. For all the hoopla, you might wonder if we were dealing with another possible Janet Jackson-type expose here. But that wouldn't stir up much indignation in our world, would it? To really rile up the liberal press Tebow would have to do something like... maybe demand honor and integrity among our nation's leaders (ala Glenn Beck). Or, dare to make light of the muslem* religion or call it the enemy of the free world. But he's not doing that.
What Tim is daring to do is make a pro-life ad for Focus on the Family, thanking his mother for her courage in not aborting him when she was counseled to do so. It's a thirty-second ad honoring life and thanking a brave woman. But, you'd think by the horrified outrage among the "status quo" that this Right to Life commercial will show thirty seconds of Tebow decapitating Nancy Pelosi. Or Oprah Winfrey.
What a world that such a thing would cause such a ruckus. The liberal press doesn't bat an eye when Sarah Palin and her family are insulted on national television. Repeatedly. There is no outcry when our president bows to the King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, no alarm when countless innocent Christians are murdered in the name of Islem* all over the world, no disgust when Planned Parenthood offers abortion gift certificates for gift giving. But a courageous young man stands before the world to uphold the right to life of the unborn and he is lambasted, insulted, hounded. Such a world. God help us.
This whole story touches a soft, sore spot in my soul. You see, twenty-two years ago (about the same time Tim Tebow's mother discovered she was expecting), I was also couseled to abort a child. I hadn't finished college yet, I was editor of our school paper and had a coveted ticket into a prestigious publishing institute. I was also hoping to participate in a graduate school exchange program in London. I had my whole life in front of me. And all of that was still possible, if I just signed on the dotted line and made an appointment... It was a simple procedure, nothing to be upset about... So the campus nurse advised and cajoled.
She was convincing -- and I was numb with terror, but I didn't sign anything. I had to think things through; I had to talk to Dan. I had to shake myself free of the daze I was in so I could think clearly. And so I walked across campus alone -- but not quite alone -- to figure out what to do.
As it so happens, the girl across the hall from me in my apartment building found out she was pregnant the same time I did. I knew because that very night I heard her and her boyfriend arguing about it in the hallway. And I heard her crying after he left. It was strange that we were suffering the same fate at the same time, but I didn't know her well enough to dare advise her, I thought, and was dreadfully caught up in my own troubles at the time, so I didn't intrude upon her world... But I wish to God I had had the courage and sensitivity to talk to that girl. It will haunt me the rest of my life that I didn't. Such an opportunity tragically missed. I learned later that my neighbor had listened to the counsel of the college clinic nurse; she'd killed her unborn child. I did not.
By the grace of God, Dan's sweet understanding, and my parents' good raising, I carried my fat little baby boy to term. I could never, ever have ended his life. Even in the cloudiness of my college-soaked brain I knew that the tiny life within me was exactly that -- life. But more than just life, it was my child. And nothing changes the fact that ending the life of a child, no matter how old it is, is murder. Abortion is murder. That any woman is convinced otherwise is contrary to every human instinct; it amazes me what the power of the devil and the temptations of the world can accomplish. To such eternal sadness.
It's a terrible thing to recall.
But worse still is remembering the tragedy of the girl across the hall. What would her child have been like?
I pray for that girl.
* Purposely misspelled. I don't know about you, but I can't help feeling just a little nervous doing something even like using a search engine to research anti-jiihad articles... Ya just never know...