The Holy God of the Universe guides my thoughts as I fight for the lives of the world’s unborn children. I’m a flawed human and not worthy of His guidance, but apparently, He doesn’t care about my flaws. He called me to help save the unborn and I accepted His call. Every day, as I work my worldly job, I ask for His guidance for something much more important; achieving my goal of ending abortion. I have no idea how this plays out and don’t know how I will find the words to change the hearts and minds of those who allow our children to be killed by the millions. I have nothing but questions, and nothing but faith that I will be guided to the answers. I know my limitations as a writer and know at the same time that my determination and dedication to my cause are unlimited.
When I answered the call I stopped seeking the good opinion of others. Every time I’m told that I can’t achieve my goal I silently thank the messenger. My strength to fight on becomes more resolute with every prediction of failure. I make no distinction between pro-choice and pro-abortion. Others can think what they want. Semantics and titles make no difference when the end result is a dead child. I make no distinction between Planned Parenthood and the abortion mills that kill over a million children every year in America and organizations like NARAL and NAF that fight to make it easier to have your unborn child killed.
Anyone who feels a calling to do something has an inspiration that steels their resolve. My inspiration is my grandsons. I see them as little miracles, and they are, in fact, miracles. The joy that they bring to my life is something that I want everyone to feel. I will not dishonor my grandsons by standing by and doing nothing as millions of their peers are killed by an industry of death. I will not conform to a society that considers it legal to have your unborn child killed.
Every time I drive by my local Planned Parenthood office I’m reminded that I live in a world where having your child killed is seen as nothing more than a business transaction. I’m haunted constantly by visions of the grisly business of killing innocent children. That tells me that my job is to stop the killing. My letters to my local Planned Parenthood office are now returned unopened. Maybe they’re uncomfortable when confronted with the reality of what they do for a living. From my perspective, my job will be finished when I no longer have to wonder every hour of every day what I have to do to help end the killing. Up to this point, I’ve written hundreds of letters and commentaries, and I’ll stop when we stop allowing our unborn children to be killed. I see every unanswered letter as a badge of honor from a fight I’m committed to winning.
Accepting a calling is not something to be taken lightly. You accept responsibility for influencing an outcome that is beyond the capability of one man. My hope is that when I write The Calling: Part 3 next year it will be the last piece I have to write in my quest to end abortion.