It's ALWAYS personal
(by R.P.Edwards)
Personal deaths
Are always worse
When we know their name
And follow the hearse
But other deaths
Are no less real
Though we know them not
And we have no "feel"...
This humble offering began in early August--the third--when the "news" later in the day became consumed with the horrific happenings in Ohio and Texas: Innocents murdered by crazed rifle-bearers. Horrible stuff.
That morning, however, before the newsworthy carnage, I found myself briefly on the sidewalk outside a notorious abortion clinic in Southern Illinois. In this fortified structure innocent children are routinely ushered to the next life via the most grisly means imaginable, and have been for decades. It is routine and mind-numbing, but there were no journalists, no cameras, no appreciable notice by any except those going in; those who work there; those pleading from the walkway, and of course..."the Supreme Judge of the world."
Not much more to say other than the obvious: when death is personal...we notice. Yes, when a loved one dies or someone we can relate to is murdered (someone's child, someone's friend, someone's spouse or parent) then our "feeler" kicks in and we invest.
But, dear reader, the innocent unborn are just as human, just as "known" to God as those with a face and a history. And, as long as we fail to recognize them; as long we allow, and even encourage their blood to be shed, can we honestly expect "other" murders to decrease?
The poem continues:
...So before we cry
And with rage lament
Let's remember ALL
Whose life is spent
Not just our measure
That is finite and few
But the measure of God
That includes
Even you
****
