Darkness Was Upon The Face Of The Deep

And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

I wrote an essay yesterday in which I shared part of the story about Planned Parenthood defector Abby Johnson. She was the director of a Planned Parenthood clinic in East Texas, and was traumatized by the experience of watching an abortion on ultrasound. She founded an organization called And Then There Were None, which helps abortion clinic employees leave the industry. She has also written a book, entitled Unplanned: The Dramatic True Story of a Former Planned Parenthood Leader's Eye-Opening Journey across the Life Line.

She was quoted in the Washington Times, and it wasn't until today that I realized that yesterday's essay omitted the most important part of her testimony. Many people who are pro-life have vilified Dr. Nucatola, but not Johnson.

"To be perfectly honest," she said, "I was disgusted at many of the comments that I saw from people claiming to be pro-life, and the way that they were talking about Dr. Nucatola. That was very disturbing to me. If we’re going to say that we’re pro-life and we believe in the inherent dignity of all persons, that includes physicians who work at Planned Parenthood."

This is exactly the correct tone that I wish to carry and convey as I continue my crusade for life.

I spent a lot of time today thinking about Jess McIntosh, the Emily's List communications director who appeared on Fox News Sunday. Maybe because she reminds me of my sister, who also wears her Scots-English in a wreath about her face.

McIntosh and I both studied English Literature. McIntosh has a Master's Degree, while I earned a minor degree. Something that people who study English Lit all have in common, is that they aspire to be great writers.

What happened to that idealistic young woman, Jess? What is missing inside you that you would negotiate your soul for an abortion provider? I understand the allure of politics. They say that politics is show business for ugly people. But you're not ugly, Jess. You are beautiful.

Are you a happy warrior, Jess, "whose high endeavours are an inward light that makes the path before him always bright?"

Or do you feel sorrowful, Jess?

"'True,' say the young children, 'it may happen
That we die before our time.
Little Alice died last year---the grave is shapen
Like a snowball, in the rime.'"