Murder is wrong.
You know, that’s not something you ever envision yourself having to say. You take it as one of the unspoken (well, not now that I’ve said it) truths of humanity: You don’t touch people’s butts, you don’t pick your friend’s nose, and you don’t murder.
Yet it just so happens that 22% of babies have been legally murdered since 1973. This probably brings up emotions of shock, horror, and revulsion. You wonder who on earth would ever kill a baby, those wonderful miracles of life that have an infinite pool of potential and so clearly show what love and care has been lavished on every single one of us. But as soon as you slap the name “abortion” on the murder of human beings, it is legal and can be done without fear of serious repercussion.
Because there is no doubt about it: the babies that are being aborted are alive. They are not just cells. At just a month old, they are an embryo that is forming organs and body parts that distinguish them as human. At two months, they are the size of a kidney bean and are moving around constantly with little distinct webby fingers. Do not try and convince me for a second that these are not beautiful creations that must be protected, respected, and taken care of. According to the Planned Parenthood website, the latest you can legally get an abortion is 24 weeks. Do you know what the baby looks like when they are 24 weeks old? They have lungs and skin and tastebuds and eyelids and even teensy tiny eyebrows.
And they are beimg murdered. In fact, the number of babies that are killed each year is roughly equal to the amount of American military deaths that have happened in all of the wars that the United States have ever been involved in. If that doesn’t shoot ice through your veins, I don’t know what to say to you.
Actually, I do. Jeremiah 1:5 says, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.” Or Psalm 139:13-14; “For you formed my inward parts, you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it full well.” There are many other verses I could bring up that display the sanctity of life and just how precious it is. It is not something to be thrown around and mistreated. God, the ultimate inventor and creator, carefully put together every single one of us with a purpose, a plan, and a heart full of love. Do not destroy His works.
All this begs the question, Why should I care? We’re considered official human beings. If someone were to intentionally kill us, it would be called murder, unlike other individuals I could and have mentioned.
Well, these babies have one way to communicate: A heartbeat. That heartbeat is enough to give us something to rebel against. Throughout history we see great men and women rise up whenever a great injustice is being committed and they, by the grace of God, overthrow the system to make things right. As people with a voice, it is our duty and our privilege to exist exactly at this time and in this place to stand up for the heartbeats that are being stifled every day.
I’m not sugarcoating this, as I assume has become apparent throughout. First, I’m not that kind of person. Like, at all. Second, this is something that cannot be shoved down into a nice tidy package with a red bow. These are raw facts that demand action from everyone.
For those who would like to get involved that are of my own age, there is a fantastic group of people called Voices for the Voiceless. They are based in Arizona and offer multiple options for high school and college-age people to help out by using their specific talents. You’re a writer? Painter? Photographer? Public speaker? Just a weirdo with a passion? Whatever it is, the movement could always use you. [Link: https://www.voicesforthevoiceless.org/]
22%, ladies and gentlemen. That is a battle worth waging, fighting, and winning.