We all believe in the sanctity of our own lives. But what about the lives of others? What about the lives of those who don’t benefit us? What about the lives of those who actually inconvenience us?
Today marks seven years since Terri Shiavo passed away—a result of a forced dehydration and deliberate withholding of care. Terri’s death and the proceedings leading to it mark a slippery slope of reasoning that threatens to bring our nation to frightening depths.
In Fighting for Dear Life, author Attorney David Gibbs III reveals an inside legal perspective of Terri’s fight for life. He shares what he saw firsthand, what he did to change the situation, and why the outcome is important to the life of every American.
I picked up this book one evening a few months ago while attempting to “wind down” for the night. Several hours later, I finished with bleary eyes and a fresh perspective on the value of every life. Continue reading
Several years before I was born, an eighteen-year-old girl was visited in the hospital by an old friend from high school friend named Dody. In the time that had passed since they had seen each other, Dody had changed, and Joanne couldn’t help but notice.
“Dody, your face looks so…so pretty.”
“That’s because Jesus has changed my life. I trusted Him, and He has changed me.”
Dody’s countenance of joy was so compelling that as soon as Joanne was released from the hospital, she made a call to the Baptist pastor of the church where her grandmother had attended and asked for an appointment. Continue reading
Several years ago, I was volunteering in an overcrowded church nursery that included ages 0–2. A young mother dropped off her two boys, and we nursery workers looked for the best way to make room for them. Because the oldest son seemed like he would be willing to play alone, we put him into one of the cribs. He really was too old for a crib, but it seemed a good way to contain him at the moment.
The boy played contentedly in the crib for several minutes and then suddenly said, “Hey, I’m in the crib! Why am I here?”
We laughed and moved him out. But I think all of us sometimes find ourselves in a different position than we ever imagined we would be. After months or years of making choices that lead us to our destination, we suddenly realize that we did not get to where we wanted to go. Only then do we stop and cry out, “Hey, I’m here in the crib. Why am I here?” Continue reading
Two years ago this week, I found myself in a craft store in Northern California waiting on some friends. As waiting is what I do best when others are shopping (no, I’m not much of a shopper), I searched for entertainment—anything to help pass time.
My eyes landed on an old book used as a display prop. I brushed aside whatever the book had been displaying and picked up the book. Its title was taken from a line of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem “Aurora Leigh.” I didn’t get to read much of the book, but I will forever remember the line of the poem: “The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud.”
God knew that at that very moment I had a large cloud hovering over my sky, blocking sunshine and, to a degree, concealing His presence. He also knew that another black cloud, heavy with painful news, was rolling in and would be further covering my sky in less than forty-eight hours. Continue reading
Carol Tudor was my Sunday school teacher when I was in second grade. She was a fun, energetic teacher when I was seven, and through the next several years, she continued to be an encouraging person in my life.
Last week, I had the joy of getting to see and reconnect with her for the first time in about fifteen years. We chatted like old friends, sharing the high and low points of the past decade and a half with each other. We exchanged cell numbers and promised to keep in touch. Without a doubt, that half hour was a treasured gift from the Lord.
Mrs. Tudor is a health care professional, and somewhere along the line, our conversation turned to health-related issues. She shared some research with me and offered to give me an over-the-counter supplement at church that evening. Continue reading