December 14, 2012. I stood motionless in my workplace break room, staring up at the TV in horrified disbelief. Had I just heard the newscaster say that twenty children and six adults were violently murdered in an elementary school in Connecticut? My hand slid up to my throat, my heart raced. I backed up against the table, grateful that I was alone in the usually busy room. Immediately, I thought of my little grandsons, three and a half and two and a half.
The journalist said the children killed were six and seven. I couldn’t move. Tears welled up, and I swallowed hard against their threatened spill. A groaning prayer erupted in my heart and regurgitated across my lips. “Father, God.” I whispered in a shaky voice. ” I know from what you’ve shown me, those precious little ones are with You, now, safe and loved, free from the evil horror perpetrated against them. But the parents . . . oh, God, oh God! How will they survive the agonizing pain?” “Only You can help them recover, if it is survivable, only Your mercy, kindness and love can cradle them. Please comfort, love and shelter them, please. I know You will. You’re constant and unshakeable. Please hold onto every victim’s family members and friends. Reveal Your heart to them over and over, as long as it takes. Thank you.” I had to clock in from lunch, I’d already waited too long. Nothing seemed important except running to my grandsons, squeezing them and feeling their warm bodies pressed against my broken heart. Instead, I returned to my computer, my job . . . and prayed for protection for everyone I loved.
After work, I went home and stood in front of our beautiful Christmas tree. “Dear God, Christmas.” I spoke into the silence. “How will those families face Christmas? Some will have already wrapped gifts under their trees for their sweet innocent child who will not be there?” I prayed again, the only thing that got me through that day. “Help them, Father, help them!”
Amidst what I was feeling, I thought of my daughter. She’d given birth just one week before to my precious granddaughter, our first little girl, and little she is, but healthy, and so beautiful. I remembered something she’d said in the hospital after giving birth. Her new daughter lay sleeping peacefully on her chest after being nursed. My daughter glanced up and said, “Just think, a little while ago she was inside me.” At the time she said it, we smiled and agreed how amazing it was. I also remember thinking that according to our U.S law, she could have aborted her daughter right up to her delivery. I remember feeling sickened from the thought. The innocent little girl our whole family so anxiously awaited, who lay sleeping so sweetly, could have been murdered just hours ago, legally, by a choice, and by people willing to do the heinous deed.
The Holy Spirit spoke to me. “Innocents are slaughtered every day.” His words dangled in the air like hearing a heartbeat you listen closely to hear, then He continued speaking. “People are rightly outraged over the school children’s deaths. The horror appears worse because they were so young. They can’t put it anywhere in their minds.” I didn’t move, not wanting anything to distract me from His words. “What is the difference in their deaths and the adults who died, their ages?” I knew what He was telling me. My granddaughter was the same, born or unborn. The elementary students were the same as the adults, or my granddaughter. The only difference was their age, their stage of life. You could tell from the media frenzy and national reaction to the crime, the deaths of the innocent children seemed more shocking, more brutal. Everyone wants an answer to “WHY”?
The deaths at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown Connecticut will never be forgotten. Except for the grace of God, the lives taken will leave deep wounds that may never heal. Yet, millions of innocent children are murdered all over the world because we believe the lies that they’re not viable human life in utero, or just unformed tissue. We’re told because of their stage of life, the unborn are somehow less valuable, less human, incapable of caring for themselves and therefore, have no human rights or are just not human.
The children murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary were still in need of food and clothing to live, they needed shelter and love and someone to care for their welfare. Were they, because they were six and seven more valuable than the unborn or newborn, like my granddaughter? There is no difference! Give this serious thought. Murder is murder. As a society, we’ve chosen to believe the pro-choice lies and the lies of the abortion industry. Just because we’ve convinced ourselves, does not make it true.
Yes, everyday Sandy Hook happens all over the world. Where is the outcry? Think of the lives who will never be and the generations that will not exist because of this evil we call abortion. We do not deserve it, but I constantly ask God to have mercy and forgive us.
As a nation, we’ve allowed the slaughter of innocents.
Please, please do not choose abortion. Have an ultrasound. See the little baby, fully formed, living and growing inside your body.