His Child

Let me tell you the story of an innocent, weak, and frail child who’s Father had put him in the care of a woman, her agreement to be his caretaker was not necessarily in words, but most definitely in actions. The Child was incapable of doing anything on his own; she had to care for him morning, noon, and night. He had to live in the place his Father built for him in order to stay safe until he was strong enough to be out in the world. After a short while, she decided that the child was too much of a burden on her and she told the Father she did not want the child anymore.

Nevertheless, the Father told her, as he had done in the beginning; if she did not think she would have liked to stay with the child, she should not have accepted the agreement. The child could not be taken back, he was too attached to her and if he were taken away before he was strong, he would surely die. Since the child could not be taken back, there were only two other ways for her to get rid of this “burden”. One would be to kill herself, which she would not do. The other would be to kill the child, which she would do, for she thought surely no one would know or care, because he had never been out in the world, he was just a nobody, and his Father would never find out – or so she thought.

Her dilemma now was how would she get the job done without taking him out of his safe place and into the world. She might fill the place with acid, which would eat him alive; or she might disassemble his body piece by piece, these are only a few of the many ways in which she might “dispose of her burden“.

* This is a story my friend Amanda Kitts wrote to bring awareness to the harsh realities of abortion and to shed some light on life of those who are unborn. Her desire was for us to remember that life is precious from the very start, and that any termination (or abortion) of that life is the end of another innocence. She also wanted us to know that we have a part in this fight for the beautiful and value of life, and that God can use us to make a difference in holding each life sacred. I hope this story was challenging to you.

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About Jeremiah Dowling

I write poetry and take crazy pictures in an Orange Chair all over the United States while reading amazing books.

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