I wish that I could describe just what it’s like to visit Shryock Embryology Museum at Loma Linda Hospital. I wish I could adequately describe what it’s like to watch young medical students graciously, and accommodatingly, walk out, so that the mother (me) of her child, whose soul is in heaven, but whose broken body sits, suspended in a glass jar, on a shelf, in a museum, could once more, count her fingers and toes.
The woman who runs the museum greets me with a hug. She brings me into the museum, and closes the door. I get to be alone for a little while. It takes me a little while to find her each time, as she has been moved to accommodate other “broken” babies, whose parents donated their tiny little bodies, for the benefit of learning more about what causes such heart-breaking birth defects.
As I glance at other babies to her left, and to her right, I think about their mothers. Maybe they are too sad to ever come back and see them again. I think about their fathers, their brothers, and sisters. And I re-live my heartache over – All over again.
There are no words. None. Absolutely none.
I think back and remember so vividly the woman who came to my hospital room and waited so kindly for me to say goodbye to Jacquelyn. I still remember what my ARMS felt like, as I felt her take my daughter from them, and the crushing, indescribable pain that my heart felt. I still remember. A mother never, ever forgets. Never. And I remember what it was like as she turned, and I watched the back of her as she left – with MY daughter. It was like life was just sucked right out of me. I still remember what it felt like to walk out of the hospital without her, to return to her nursery empty-armed, and to have to explain over and over and over and over to people that yes, I did have a baby, and no, I did not bring her home. What a nightmare.
And that woman who held my daughter tight, and so very professionally took her from me was all I could think about tonight, as I turned on the television to again hear more ugly worldly news. Planned Parenthood, selling babies’ organs, and tissues.
And our President says, “God Bless planned parenthood???”
Oh Mr. President – God will NEVER bless Planned Parenthood. Never.
Over and over I hear them say they sell the “specimens,” and this doctor guzzles wine and chomps on a salad as she speaks of the “17-weeker” she “did” today, whose “specimens” range in price from $30 to $100 dollars………….. Totally OPPOSITE picture of the sweet woman who tenderly held my baby close to her chest after she took her from me.
I could vomit. I could just vomit.
The world has surely gone mad.
In the Bible, when Cane killed his brother Abel, his blood cried out to the Lord!!!
“And the LORD said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground.” Genesis 4:10
Can you imagine the cries the Lord hears because of the millions of MURDERED babies (NOT SPECIMENS!) at the hands of Planned Parenthood?? Oh, it does cry out. You bet it does! No, Mr. President, God will NOT BLESS murderers. He will not.
You can call BABIES “specimens” to ease your conscience, if you wish, but they are BABIES. And those BABIES were loved and cherished by GOD before they were EVER even formed in their mothers’ wombs. God will not bless planned parenthood for murdering them. But He most certainly will judge them.
I still believe, in my heart of hearts, that most “pro-choice” women are really and truly “pro-LIFE” (but perhaps with a regret).
If that’s you tonight, I’m sitting right here at my kitchen table praying that you realize the forgiveness that is available to you. I’m praying you realize that there is NOTHING that cannot be forgiven by the shed blood of JESUS. Wherever you are, call out to Him. He longs to hear from you. Don’t put it off. Be forgiven and set free TODAY! You did not read this by coincidence.