My Soap Box

So this entry isn't exactly related to my 'thesis', which I was so excited about a few days. But I've had something on my mind, so here we go...

Apparently yesterday was Red Envelope Day. I didn't know what that was until I was invited to a Red Envelope party. Basically, on March 31, people all over the U.S. addressed red envelopes to President Obama in protest of abortion. I've never been very politically active about anything beyond voting in the presidential elections, so the fact that I participated in this was a big deal to me.

After sending out my 20 red envelopes, I spent last evening reading about abortion and trying to decide why I am pro-life, and why I can't just be pro-choice and let others make their own decisions. There are several facets to this debate, and I couldn't even begin to address all of them. But one things sticks out in my mind as I think about this issue of abortion: We are losing respect for life, and we do not have a correct understanding of the value, meaning, and purpose of life.

Last night I visited the website for the National Abortion Federation to see what they had to say in support of abortion rights. There is a section where women who have had abortions can leave notes as to why they had an abortion and what their experience was like. I found it very interesting that most of the women talked about how they just weren't prepared to care for a baby yet. They felt like they wouldn't be able to provide the kind of life they wanted for their baby - they usually cited the absence of a father, or economic reasons for aborting. I think that most of these women really did have the best of intentions when making this difficult decision. I understand that we want the best for our children. I understand that we don't want them to face any hardship or adversity that they don't have to. But, isn't part of why we are here on earth to face adversity? To have trials? To experience hardship? Isn't that what helps us to grow? to learn? to become better?

It seems that to some people, life is only worth living if it meets a certain (and arbitrary) ideal or standard. And this is where the Plan of Salvation comes in handy. It teaches us that every life has meaning and purpose. Things are never going to be ideal, and isn't that the point? We come here to earth to grow and to learn and to prove ourselves, and having a body - a mortal, imperfect body - is essential to all of this. And the best part is, that in spite of all the hardship and imperfection, we can have JOY!

We have some friends who recently had a healthy baby boy. Early on in the pregnancy, the doctor detected a possible abnormality that potentially indicated Down Syndrome. He immediately sent them to some specialists so that further testing could be done. One of the tests in particular - amniocentesis - carries a risk of preterm labor or miscarriage. Our friends opted to not carry out any of the tests. They didn't want to jepardize their baby, whether he had Down Syndrome or not. The specialists, on the other hand, were surprised at their decision. They had assumed that these parents would want to find out so that they could then abort the baby if they found him to have problems.

While I wouldn't wish disablities on any person, child, or family, those lives still have meaning and the potential for joy! Where do we draw the line in defining a worthwhile life? If we would terminate a life early on because of potential disability - because that life isn't worth living - then what of all those who are born and live with disability? Doesn't the same arguement carry over? Are their lives also worthless because they are less than ideal?

I was talking about this whole issue with Anders last night, and he said the solution to abortion is missionary work. Until people understand the Plan of Salvation, then any arguement we can give against abortion will be pointless. It ultimately comes down to an understanding that every life is of great worth, life itself is sacred, and the power to create life is also sacred and to be used appropriately.