This morning the sun is rising on a beautiful day. I see its golden rays just touching the trees in our backyard. Birds sing and crickets chirp around me as I sit on our porch, considering the beauty and peace of a new day of life. All the while, what I am writing about this morning stands in stark contrast to this day. It is dark and heavy and ugly, and it steals life from those who bear it. But stay with me until the end because just as the night was chased away by the rising of the sun this morning, so I pray will you find the night chased away in your soul as the light of the Son shines at the end of this post.

My heart wrenched this past week when I watched the videos of two different Planned Parenthood executives discuss the selling of fetus body parts. I was joined by millions of other Americans who watched in horror as the videos unfolded. Honestly, just the reality that these body parts are "recycled" and used at all is horrendous enough, whether or not someone pays for them. I think of our 15 week sonogram with my daughter. When my high risk doctor placed the wand on my abdomen, the screen immediately lit up with her tiny body, kicking and moving in my womb. I watched those perfect little legs moving in motion like she was riding a bicycle, and I was undone with love. Then, I imagine that tiny body being ripped apart or suctioned out or whatever "non-crunchy" method might be used to dismember her, and I cannot go on. It makes me weak in the knees and sick to my stomach. My heart cannot bear the thought of such an end to life.

In Fall of 1992, America found herself in the midst of an intense political debate as the presidential elections drew closer. I was in elementary school at the time, but the highly charged debates and conversations I heard, both in person and on TV, made an impression on me. In particular, I remember an elementary school playground debate in which our PE teachers allowed students to voice opinions for who they thought should be elected next President of the United States. I cheered loudly and made up little rhymes for my "team," naturally following the position of my parents. At the same time, though, I remember feeling slightly torn as my then best friend, Abraham, cheered for the other side. His dad was a Texas Senator for the opposing political party, and I couldn't help but wonder how they could be such great people but still think "the other side" was right when it was clearly not.

It was my first introduction to the idea that controversial areas of life are not always black or white, right or wrong.

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose."

A few weeks ago, Trey and I journeyed with our moms to the high risk doctor's office, where we would receive a level 2 anatomy ultrasound and an echocardiogram of our daughter's heart. With all of the prayer we had focused on this day in the weeks prior, we were hopeful in the Lord for good news. We were hopeful for a perfect ultrasound that indicated that her body is doing just fine, like a baby who is free from any chromosome abnormality.