Friday, January 20, 2006

I do not know if all the Focus on the Family broadcasts are the same throughout the nation each day, but here in Los Angeles, I have been listening to it this week. The theme they have adopted for this third week of January is the sanctity of life. For the last two days Focus on the Family has had the leader of Life International speaking about how he opened the first chapter of Life International in Grand Rapids Michigan next door to an abortion clinic to pray for the women and unborn children, and for God to relieve us from this culture of death that people all over the world have embraced.

Sometimes the Focus on the Family broadcasts make for a tearful commute, and these last few days are no exception. Abortion hits close to home for me. I am single, unmarried, and I live with my parents. I have not had an abortion. I have a brother. I have never met him, I was never given the chance; I will meet him the same day that I meet my Father. My parents, over the course of the last few years, have revealed to myself and my sister that my mother had an abortion sometime between when I was born (1984) and when my sister was born (1988).

So, everytime I listen to one broadcast or another that addresses abortion, I find myself telling God various things. I suppose it is only natural for me to want to know my brother. I want to know his favourite color. I want to know the color of his hair and his eyes. I want to know if he likes football or fishing; camping or skiing; etc. In short, I feel cheated. My parents told me in vague terms why my brother was aborted: that he had a genetic disorder, and if mom delivered him, she would not be able to have more kids. My sister was only told that she would have an older brother, but I filled her in on the details.

I may not know the pain and suffering a woman goes through to arrive at the decision to have an abortion. I do not know the despair, shame, and guilt that plagues a woman after having had an abortion. But, I do know how it affects people other than the mother. You get cheated out of a life, out of a brother or a sister, a son or a daughter, a grandson or a granddaughter. It hurts.

I am also saddened by knowing that my parents claim to believe, vote pro-life, and call themselves Catholic. I'm sorry, but these are not just labels you stick to yourself for Sunday or for election day. You either believe it and live it, or don't. Am I upset? Yes. Each person bears the image of God, each and every single person on this planet is a Child of God. To say that a woman has the right to decide who lives and who dies, is the work of Darkness. What you percieve as a choice, is really death.

I want no part of this culture of Death, of Darkness.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Last night as I was reading up on the validity and reliability of polygraph tests online for my forensic psychology lecture later this morning, I was looking at some of the articles listed at crosswalk.com. I came upon one that spoke of God breaking us so that we can get past our pride or other hurdles that we would not otherwise cross to get closer to God. That made me think, and while it may sound odd, I have to say that I am in the end grateful for the cult. If I had not joined the cult, and subsequently left it, I would not be here. Not only would I not believe in the Truth of God, but I have not the slightest idea as to where I would be physically. I could be at SC or I could be at the "Bible" school. The possibilities are endless.

However, I chose to listen to Priscilla's (who is associated with University Bible Fellowship, which may be of questionable status) email. I left the cult and the ensuing months broke me over and over again. Looking back on it now, I think it was necessary for me to be broken to that extent, to be so completely crushed as to turn away from God. I was proud. I was really proud. I remember while in the cult I was doing some Bible study with some members, and they were talking about how we are all sinners. They went on talking freely allowing themselves to say they sin. I couldn't, and wouldn't say that I sinned. I was too good to be considered a sinner. That is why, when I first began to believe August 8th that I wrote on my Xanga that I was a sinner. It was such a milestone for me.

Again this morning, I heard a broadcast on the same station that does Focus on the Family, and I listen to it many mornings during my commute. This morning I left my car in the Parking Center thinking that there is no better way to start your morning than to be reminded that you are a sinner. During the speech the pastor spoke of how we can't escape temptation, how we are born in sin to be sin because Satan has control over the Earth; until we are born again into the Light. At which point I am reminded of my thought last night of how if each Christian on earth held a lit candle, that is a lot of light. But I glanced upward and told God that I want there to be more Light in the World for Him.

I find it troubling that there are a great many of us, of the Children of Light, and yet how oppressive and stifling the Dark feels. For even if there is just one person of darkness stands amid the Light, it's like you can feel it telling you to be quiet. The pastor on the broadcast said that when you are born to be sin, you are Darkness, and you belong to Darkness. I like being in the Light. I like knowing that I am in the Light. I like knowing that one day, I'll be with the Light forever and the Darkness will vanish.