A PENUMBRA BY ANY OTHER NAME
By Jill Cohen Walker, J.D.
Back in 1960, the year I started seventh grade, I found out that having the right family doctor could affect one’s social status. I remember the barrage of “you have to switch to Dr. Lothringer if you’re to count for anything socially” lecture from some of the more popular girls. A few months down the road, I was glad I didn’t fall prey to peer pressure. I was also sorry that Dr. L. did what he did because his patient may have been one of the “real” statistics used by the liberals to ensure the murders of more than 40 million unborn children since Roe v. Wade was decided.
Dr. L. was evidently approached by an upper middle class family whose 19-year-old daughter (engaged at the time to a nice young man) was pregnant. The couple wanted to marry right away but finishing college was more important to the parents. At least that’s what I remember. It was the parents who insisted their daughter have an abortion at a time when the procedure was rightfully illegal. I know from whence I speak.
Dr. L. was a good family friend and took on the task of rescuing the young girl from her terrible plight—being a wife and mother, truly a fate worse than death. The parents were relieved until they didn’t hear from the doctor or their daughter that all was well. When there was no answer at the good doctor’s office, no answer on his home phone, and their daughter’s whereabouts were still unknown, they went to the police. She was finally found . . . in many parts . . . in the sewers along Union Turnpike. They found Dr. L. and his assistant at the airport attempting to flee the country.
I was still young and had no idea what an abortion was (ah for the age of innocence again). My mother was careful with her explanation. The media, however, spewed forth its outrages and then launched into a diatribe about the need for legalized abortion, even though the abortion in question was performed by a competent professional. My mother was furious that such an incident could be turned into a political maneuver, but it was.
Not one person, sane or otherwise, remarked that it was the fault of the parents, the doctor, his assistant, and even the young girl and her boyfriend for capitulating. No one said what even I knew was true: if she had just had the baby, she’d still be alive. Under more godly circumstances, she might be fighting for the rights of the unborn; perhaps fighting for young girls who want their children but are dragged kicking and screaming to abortion clinics by their parents. Maybe she’d counsel the ones who went there without telling their parents where they were going. (“Hi, Mom. Yes, I’m fine. I’m about to kill your grandchild, but I’ll be home before dinner so I can get my homework done.”)
That’s some message to young girls—“You must murder my grandchild!” And it’s some message from young girls—“I am about to murder my child and your grandchild!” That’s how far we’ve devolved as a society.
Instead of looking at the degeneration of morals in this nation and stopping it head on, the once illustrious US Supreme Court (but for a few nasty decisions about folks being property), did the unconscionable. Instead of leaving the matter to the states, instead of letting the legislatures decide, they spent 15 years looking for a way to “legislate” what didn’t exist. Lurking in the partial shadows—the penumbra—and in the obscurity of the evil side of the human imagination, the judges found exactly what evil had hiding there: the right of mothers to kill her unborn children. They also took it upon themselves to decide, with temerity, “who is a person worth saving.” The posterity of our nation was summarily divided between the wanted and unwanted, the convenient and inconvenient, the planned and the accident. (Try that with the homeless and the liberals will destroy you while they summarily discard the disabled along with the unborn). Half of each generation that followed Roe v. Wade was sentenced to death without any due process simply because of location, stage of development, and inconvenience to those who couldn’t keep their pants up or their zippers zipped; or stay out of the dorsal lithotomic position. Now that’s real freedom, huh?
Well, just once, I’d like to hear someone who has to answer the sick and twisted questions of liberal members of the US Senate’s Judiciary Committee blast THEM for the deaths of all those unborn children. If I were up for a Supreme Court judgeship (which will never happen), I wouldn’t play the political correctness game with the liberal miscreants that have no respect for life or liberty. What would I have to lose by being honest? Here are some questions I’d like to ask THEM during their questioning of ME:
I wonder how the pro-abortion crowd would react if we put them through a little scientific experiment. How about if we stuff them all into individual giant balloons filled with warm water? Since they’re “mature adults” (a paradox in their case), I propose they be allowed to wear their skivvies. Well, Senators Kennedy and Clinton, are you game? How about you, Senators Feinstein, Schumer, Boxer, etc.? Wanna play? Here’s how it goes . . .
We put you inside a balloon and let you hang out there. You’ll hear familiar voices from the outside that are warm and soothing. You might hear some that aren’t as such. You’ll hear music and television . . . and get very comfortable and feel very secure. Just when you think everything is okay and all’s well in your warm little world, we’re going to reach inside the neck of that balloon. First we’ll grab one of your legs and drag it into the neck of the balloon, and then we’ll grab your other leg and drag it down there, too. Once both of your legs are in place, we’re going to pull very hard to get the rest of you, except your head, in perfect position. No? You don’t like this idea? Well, wait just a minute because there’s more . . .
Now that you’re squirming to get away from this nasty intrusion into your peaceful experience, we’re going to run our fingers up your spines and find the base of each of your skulls. Then, we’ll take a sharp instrument and use that to make a nice opening, without any anesthesia, so your brains can be sucked out without damaging them. Sound okay so far? No? Why not? OK, your skulls probably won’t collapse as the innocents do. How come you don’t have to endure what you’re forcing others who are far more innocent and ever so fragile to endure? Can’t ya’ take it? I didn’t think so!
Well, those who were slaughtered, those precious unborn babies who are growing up in the admonition of the Lord, will be part of a mighty army when they return with Him at the end of the seven-year Tribulation. What, dear Senators, dear liberals, will you say when you see the generations you murdered returning with the King of kings and Lord of lords . . . because by then it will be too late to ask for forgiveness.
© 2006 - Jill Cohen Walker - All Rights Reserved
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Jill Cohen Walker earned a BA from Goddard College in 1977, a JD from Franklin Pierce Law Center in 1980, and an MS in journalism at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville in 1999. A freelance writer for fifteen years, she has written numerous articles for tech magazines and newspapers, and co-authored a book on hiring practices in the printing industry.
She taught Social Studies for one year in a northern middle school, and medical-legal and bio-medical courses in the Allied Health division of a local community college for four years. A student of legal history and the US Constitution, she began to study current events and Bible prophecies in March 1985. Her deep interest in and awareness of American politics started during the 2000 elections when she realized the prophetic time clock was ticking fast. She is the co-author of the novel "The Call to Prayer". (www.thecalltoprayer.net).
do you keep calling it “a woman’s right to choose?” Haven’t you figured
out that there is no such “right” in God’s universe?