A
Dream
Emily Maine © 2012
Take a minute and
imagine something for me. You are peacefully sleeping in your nice warm bed…and
then you start dreaming a relatively peaceful uneventful dream. You are curled
up in a fetal position in a cozy warm, dark, slightly sticky place. You start off
being very confused and then..!!BAM!! You look at your hand and it is tiny!
Then you realize you are sucking your thumb. This is when it hits you - you are
a baby in a mother’s womb. In your slight discomfort by the fact that you
realize you are naked and that’s not OK with you. You feel something, it’s
something poking your leg. You being an “adult” naturally know what it is, it
must be your twin that you didn’t know existed. Then the poking gets stronger and
you realize you’re not being poked but pulled instead. You and your genius
adult mind realize what is happening and you will your little self to move away
as fast as you can, but you are powerless to the groping and pulling that’s
being unleashed on your fragile self. You realize that you are being aborted and
you are devastated to think that your mother didn’t want you enough, or care
enough to give you life. To your horror, you feel the absolute worst pain you
have ever experienced. You realize you
can feel everything that your baby self can feel. You are slowly being torn
limb from limb and there is NOTHING you can do or say to make the pain go away.
Nobody sees you as you writhe in agony.
All the doctors
and nurses in their own little sterile minds see is a mound of messy tissue
that they did the poor teenage girl on the operating table a favor by removing.
They can’t hear your silent screams of pain or your whimpers as the pain slowly
fades into a dull ache. They don’t see the glorious angels lifting you up into
the heavens where a kind old man carefully stiches you back together and holds
you tenderly while he bathes your little body with the sweetest smelling water
in the world. The doctors and nurses in their own world won’t see you being
held in the arms of Jesus while you pull his beard and he smiles and then
tickles your cute belly. All they see is a lifeless messy blob of tissue, an
outright inconvenience in their busy day. All the nurse can think about is her
night on the town with her girlfriends. All the doctor can think about is the
nice paycheck he will receive for ridding the world of yet another
inconvenience. All the while, your mother is sitting in her car crying and
wishing someone would hold her and tell her everything will be OK. That the
lies and all the other things the nurses told her would go away. Most of all
she wants you back inside of her where you belong. She wants the chance to hold
you and love you.
All of a sudden, you are rudely awakened by your
alarm clock’s incessant blaring and whining for you to get your lazy self out
of bed. Then you hear crying. You are horrified, and then you realize it’s the
sound of your baby girl. She had also heard your alarm clock’s rude refrain and
is now crying because she’s ready to eat.
A tune you are
sure you have never heard before starts playing in your head…you think of words
and you start singing the mysterious song to your little girl as you rock her
tears away.
(Chorus)
Carried
on wings like the angels, held in the Savior’s arms
Gently
rocked as the little hearts beat, held in the arms of the King. X2
All
of the tears here on earth will be dried
When
hearts see this picture of life. As the angels hold the little ones tight in
their arms, free from all pain and scars.
(Chorus)
They were carried on wings like the angels, held in the Savior’s arms.
Gently
rocked as the little hearts beat, held in the arms of the King. X2
All
pain and sorrow on one blessed day will end, and God will roll back the clouds.
He will say, “Come and see the children play here on my heavenly shores.”
(Chorus)
They were carried on wings like the angels, held in the Savior’s arms. Gently
rocked as the little hearts beat, held in the arms of the King. X2
This might be disturbing,
gross, and I am sure there are many other words you could add. I don’t care
because what I have written is real. It might even be happening; in fact it is
probably happening as you are reading this.
Why? Why is it OK to kill an unborn
baby? Why is it OK to allow babies to be violently torn from their mother’s
womb? Why are we scared to speak up? Why don’t we dare
to speak for the ones who can’t speak for themselves? Are we really that weak?
Are we really that scared? These children are dying! Why? There are women whose
empty arms are aching to hold a baby, but they can’t. Where is the value of human life? Have we
really sunk so low as to allow this cruelty? The ground is crying out as life after life is buried in its depths.
We need to speak up, defend
the rights of these children, and work on finding more solutions for life. Life
is sacred! We need to be voices for
the voiceless. When will America stand up for those who cannot?
Will my generation be the one to make
the change or will we be silent like our ancestors?
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