"

3:00 AM.
Your body is so fragile
The emotions just leak out of it
Onto the patterns of a pillow riddled with poetry
Written to the exact same song
At the exact same time.


3:15 AM. 

The thoughts that hide between your mind and your skull
Seem to squeeze you from the inside
It could be about your new baby boy

Or the absence of the person you thought you could trust
Either way, you’re awake and in for the ride

No turning back now.


3:30 AM.
Your throat holds back every question you’ve had since your first tragedy
Why did he have to leave?

Did they mean what they said?
What’s going to happen to me?
Who am I? 

You have questions for a life time, and answers laying in eternity.



3:59 AM
Your heavy eyes are peeking at stars observing you
From all over the galaxy and the universe beyond
But your search for rest will be found in what seems like a moment
So close your eyes and cradle your mind in the rest you deserve
For 3 AM will come again, and when it does
You’ll be ready.


3 AM


There’s just something different about it. 


"

You Learn Something New Every Night

by-grace-of-god:

Sign Language Interpreter at Planned Parenthood Shares Heartbreaking Story of Having to Interpret Abortion
I was eighteen when I took a job as a sign language interpreter at Planned Parenthood. I was raised Roman Catholic, but I was Catholic in the same way that Olive Garden is an authentic Italian restaurant: just because you throw some fancy words on the menu doesn’t make it genuine.
For me, abortion was not a choice that I would make personally, but the way I saw it, who was I to judge another woman for having one? I didn’t know her life. I didn’t know her circumstances, and I had prided myself my whole life on not judging people without knowing their full story.
A deaf friend referred me to the job opening at a Boston clinic, and it paid well. I averaged about $100 an hour for my services! That’s all it was to me, a job to make money for my upcoming college tuition. I didn’t work often, maybe one or two days a week, and traveled around to the Boston-area clinics when needed. For the most part, I interpreted for women seeking counseling, getting prescriptions for birth control, or just getting general information about sexual health. It all seemed innocent enough.
Deep down, however, I must have known I was doing something wrong. I told people I worked for a “family services counseling center.” I figured that wasn’t completely a lie. The trouble was, most people took that to mean that I was going into the world and doing good: interpreting for families living in poverty, or families who were trying to keep themselves together. Despite the fact that Planned Parenthood offered all kinds of services, in the back of my mind I knew that at the root of it they really were just an abortion clinic.
The worst day of my life—and an anniversary I never forget when it comes every year—is Thursday, November 1, 2012. I was called in to interpret for a “medical procedure.” I arrived early, and chatted with the receptionist as I did every day. I grabbed a cup of coffee and waited for the client to arrive. While I waited, I went over her file. I’ll call her Kate. She was twenty-three and had been deaf since birth. Kate estimated that she was about eighteen weeks pregnant.
At 10:30 sharp, we entered the operating room. That’s when my stomach started to turn. Previously, when I’d read “medical procedure,” it had been for ultrasounds. But this was different – we were in an OR. The lights were too bright for the size of the room. There were cold-looking metal objects on a table. I was in an abortion.
I tried to remain calm. I interpreted back and forth, but when the murder began, I lost it. As I watched the doctor pull this life out, limb by limb, I couldn’t help but let the tears start to fall. What I had thought would be just lumps of blood clots were body parts. Arms, a torso, legs, and a head. I felt as if I was suffocating. As soon as it was over, I ran from the room. I collapsed in the hallway and sobbed uncontrollably. To this day, I haven’t cried like that since. A security guard rushed me into his office. I realize now that it was probably not to console me, but because I was scaring the patients.
I quit my job that afternoon. I went into the manager’s office and signed my papers. Abortion was not a strong enough word for what I had witnessed. Murder wasn’t even good enough a word. To me, murder implied that the person might have been capable of fighting back. No, this was a slaughter.
I don’t think I will ever fully recover from what I saw that day. A human life, a BABY, had been ripped from its mother’s body, piece by piece. It is the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I think of before I go to bed. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. Whenever I see a child around two, I imagine that that is how old the aborted baby would be now. I can’t help but wonder who that baby would have become. Maybe she would have been an artist. Maybe he would have dreamed of being a firefighter. Maybe she would have gone on to become a doctor who saved lives; maybe he would have become a teacher.
With counseling, I have come to accept that God forgives me for the act that I was a part of, but I am still working on forgiving myself. The only thing that consoles me on the nights that it keeps me up is knowing that that baby is now in Heaven, enjoying Eternal Life. After what this world put it through, I think that’s a good place to be.

by-grace-of-god:

Sign Language Interpreter at Planned Parenthood Shares Heartbreaking Story of Having to Interpret Abortion

I was eighteen when I took a job as a sign language interpreter at Planned Parenthood. I was raised Roman Catholic, but I was Catholic in the same way that Olive Garden is an authentic Italian restaurant: just because you throw some fancy words on the menu doesn’t make it genuine.

For me, abortion was not a choice that I would make personally, but the way I saw it, who was I to judge another woman for having one? I didn’t know her life. I didn’t know her circumstances, and I had prided myself my whole life on not judging people without knowing their full story.

A deaf friend referred me to the job opening at a Boston clinic, and it paid well. I averaged about $100 an hour for my services! That’s all it was to me, a job to make money for my upcoming college tuition. I didn’t work often, maybe one or two days a week, and traveled around to the Boston-area clinics when needed. For the most part, I interpreted for women seeking counseling, getting prescriptions for birth control, or just getting general information about sexual health. It all seemed innocent enough.

Deep down, however, I must have known I was doing something wrong. I told people I worked for a “family services counseling center.” I figured that wasn’t completely a lie. The trouble was, most people took that to mean that I was going into the world and doing good: interpreting for families living in poverty, or families who were trying to keep themselves together. Despite the fact that Planned Parenthood offered all kinds of services, in the back of my mind I knew that at the root of it they really were just an abortion clinic.

The worst day of my life—and an anniversary I never forget when it comes every year—is Thursday, November 1, 2012. I was called in to interpret for a “medical procedure.” I arrived early, and chatted with the receptionist as I did every day. I grabbed a cup of coffee and waited for the client to arrive. While I waited, I went over her file. I’ll call her Kate. She was twenty-three and had been deaf since birth. Kate estimated that she was about eighteen weeks pregnant.

At 10:30 sharp, we entered the operating room. That’s when my stomach started to turn. Previously, when I’d read “medical procedure,” it had been for ultrasounds. But this was different – we were in an OR. The lights were too bright for the size of the room. There were cold-looking metal objects on a table. I was in an abortion.

I tried to remain calm. I interpreted back and forth, but when the murder began, I lost it. As I watched the doctor pull this life out, limb by limb, I couldn’t help but let the tears start to fall. What I had thought would be just lumps of blood clots were body parts. Arms, a torso, legs, and a head. I felt as if I was suffocating. As soon as it was over, I ran from the room. I collapsed in the hallway and sobbed uncontrollably. To this day, I haven’t cried like that since. A security guard rushed me into his office. I realize now that it was probably not to console me, but because I was scaring the patients.

I quit my job that afternoon. I went into the manager’s office and signed my papers. Abortion was not a strong enough word for what I had witnessed. Murder wasn’t even good enough a word. To me, murder implied that the person might have been capable of fighting back. No, this was a slaughter.

I don’t think I will ever fully recover from what I saw that day. A human life, a BABY, had been ripped from its mother’s body, piece by piece. It is the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I think of before I go to bed. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. Whenever I see a child around two, I imagine that that is how old the aborted baby would be now. I can’t help but wonder who that baby would have become. Maybe she would have been an artist. Maybe he would have dreamed of being a firefighter. Maybe she would have gone on to become a doctor who saved lives; maybe he would have become a teacher.

With counseling, I have come to accept that God forgives me for the act that I was a part of, but I am still working on forgiving myself. The only thing that consoles me on the nights that it keeps me up is knowing that that baby is now in Heaven, enjoying Eternal Life. After what this world put it through, I think that’s a good place to be.

(via the-ephemeral-poet-society)

"How shallow is the human heart
Comparing flesh and bone
To the flesh and bone of another
What a silly game to play
Swallowing images of magazines
With wide eyes and squinted lips
A game that we cannot win
A war of self we are bound to lose
Believing we can be the best
But who remains the conqueror of anything?
All the young grow old
The strong become frail
The beautiful turn ugly
The intelligent doomed to forget
All told they could be the best
But never taught that life will fade
Just give it painful time and precious tears
They will figure it out
But I’ve never even won a medal
I can’t enter the pageant
Or win the science fair
So if beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Will you hold me while you behold my failures?
I can’t be the best

But we could be the best of friends
If you behold me, then never let me go

See me as beautiful and nothing less."

Grow Old and Fragile With Me

"

Time.



It’s not currency, but it’s the most valuable thing to spend

If you use it right, you will have wrinkles on your smile

And a light in your eyes

But if you spend it wrong

It will destroy you.



Because time doesn’t wait for you to say goodbye

When there’s a shooting at your university

Or planes flying into buildings

It’s viciously apathetic to tragedy

Time doesn’t wait for you to push out

The I-love-you’s and will-you-marry-me’s

The words crushed by your tightened lips may stay

But time quickly slips away.



Because time is the sand

You could try to hold every grain

From every beach and shore you came across

But they would seep out of your tired, worn fingers

So treat it with respect

Because you never know how much you have left

Until you’re a memory of those who have a little more



Time.



It’s not currency, but it’s the most valuable thing to spend.

"

I Am The Hourglass

Lord,

You rescued me with a roar and a whisper.

Do not let money shape your definition of success.

Why Are You Against Abortion?

I see that you are against abortion. Why? Do you judge those who get one?


I said:

Yes, I judge those who abort their children. Not because I am better than them, but because I love them and the children that are being sacrificed for their convenience. These mothers undergo post-trauma, struggle with depression and suicide, ruin their bodies, and live with the guilt of shedding innocent blood. It’s a tragedy, and I have anger and compassion for them. 

I am not vocal against abortion because I want abortion to be illegal. That is secondary. I am vocal because I want to remind future mothers that life is sacred. Human life is created in the image of God, and it cannot be violated. Using violent methods and desecrating the human that God has intricately designed and given life is an abomination. I am not naive about the methods used to kill these infants. It is brutal, and it is done in the name of convenience. Yes, I do judge but I do it with a broken-hearted love. I see the evil, and I want it to stop. I want love to prevail, not death.

Why am I against abortion? It is because I have love for the mothers and their children. It is because I believe in the sanctity of family. It is because I believe that a parent can never express a greater love than to lay down his or her life for their children, in or outside of the womb. In this broken world, I will continue to believe in faithfulness, compassion, mercy, sacrifice, and selflessness. Convenience must die, and it must give way to this real love. 

It is just as important to preach the Gospel as much as it is to live it. If The Great Commission is to go into all the world and preach the Gospel, we need to share it with everyone we know. And we should not just speak from personal experience only, but we should speak from the Scriptures and show that God came into flesh to die for all. Jesus may not have shoved a tract into someone’s hand, but he made it very clear that we would die in our sins without Him. If you truly believe there is a perfect God, fallen creation, Heaven, and Hell, you would do everything you could do to warn others and show how Jesus died for them. Yes, build relationships so that non-Christians may know that you want something FOR them and not FROM them, but ultimately they may never ask about Jesus and your job is to show them the Gospel. Don’t wait for them to ask. tell them about Jesus.

That is the most loving thing you could ever do. 

How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” - Romans 10:14-15

"People do not drift toward Holiness. Apart from grace-driven effort, people do not gravitate toward godliness, prayer, obedience to Scripture, faith, and delight in the Lord. We drift toward compromise and call it tolerance; we drift toward disobedience and call it freedom; we drift toward superstition and call it faith. We cherish the indiscipline of lost self-control and call it relaxation; we slouch toward prayerlessness and delude ourselves into thinking we have escaped legalism; we slide toward godlessness and convince ourselves we have been liberated."

— D.A. Carson

There is no air, no water, no sustenance, and no need in life that will ever satisfy more than the salvation offered by Jesus Christ. To put your faith in Christ is not merely to say, “I believe You exist.” Putting your faith in Christ is to proclaim, “Lord! You are my air! My Bread of Life! You are my everything!” Christ has come to eternally satisfy every need of your soul, so that you may never thirst again. 

"As the selfish forget what is Sacred, the humble forget themselves."

— The Devil Wears Prada, Danger: Wildman

mylifewithsocialanxiety-deactiv said: Why be pro-life? I mean, do you know what hyperemesis gravidarum, pre-eclampsia, and ectopic pregnancies are? Do you know how physically hellish pregnancy can be for a woman? Do you know all of the different ways that pregnancy can cause mental and emotional distress to a woman? Do you know how emotionally scarring it can be to give a child up for adoption? Or do you just not care about any of that, which proves that your views on this issue are incredibly hateful?

alwaysabeautifullife:

Do I know how physically hellish pregnancies can be? I got pregnant with my first son when I was 17 years old. I was the top of my class, dating my high school sweet heart for 3 years (Mr. prom king himself). I was a cheerleader, varsity team since I was a freshman, runner up for Miss Wallace, and the school “artist”. When I got pregnant, absolutely everyone around me told me I should get an abortion. My boyfriend and his parents, my parents and my friends, and every single one of my teachers (who I considered my friends). I wanted to keep my son, but every day I got pulled out of class, pestered by my teachers to get an abortion, that they would drive me to the clinic themselves, that “nobody would have to know”. I was firm on my decision. I wanted to keep my son. I was harassed to get an abortion until I was about 6 months pregnant, in which at that point I was rejected by my family and friends, and my teachers. To make matters worse, I began to get a pain in my leg that was so severe I couldn’t stop vomiting. I went to the E.R. and they found that I had a D.V.T. Deep vein thrombosis. After several tests they confirmed that I had 2 types of blood disorders, that are so severe I need to be on anti coagulants for the rest of my life, so severe that any pregnancy is life threatening. The doctors urged me to get an abortion, and once again I refused. I was admitted into the hospital for 2 weeks, with the only anticoagulant approved during pregnancies: lovenox. Lovenox is a shot to the stomach that you take every 12 hours, for the remainder of the pregnancy and 2 months after. The feeling of a D.V.T when it completely clots your leg, is like hooking up a hose to the inside of your leg, filling it up with water until your skin is ready to burst, then plugging the hole. It is beyond excruciating. To deliver my son, was even more dangerous. When you are on blood thinners, your blood is kept 10 x thinner then the average person, so I was at an extreme bleeding risk. If for some reason I needed a c-section, or I had other problems, I could have simply hemorrhaged to death. I delivered my healthy baby boy a few months later, the delivery went wonderful. After I had my son, I went to school at the University of Idaho, to study physiology. Here is a photo of my son, who is now 8 years old. He plays the piano, enjoys legos, minecraft, speaks 3 languages and by his choice is a vegan. He is vibrant and compassionate and loves to make others happy, in the morning when I wake up he makes coffee, and occasionally leaves notes under my bedroom door telling me how much he loves me. He always fights for the smaller person, loves babies and children, and tells me that he cannot wait to get married (often asks me how to get a wife lol). This is the face of the boy that every one I knew told me to abort.

But dear, that isn’t it. When my son was very young, I began to date a man and we were intimate very early in our relationship. He was much older then I was, and he told me he was sterile. He lied. After we had been dating for 2 months I became pregnant again. He was unsupportive of the pregnancy. He urged me to get an abortion. I refused. And so began the abuse. At first it was just control of my life. He took away friends, family. Then he took away my car, my phone, my job. He stole my life. Eventually the abuse became so severe I tried to run away. I bundled my son up in a winter coat and began to walk. We lived in a very first class neighborhood, and he was very well respected, and very well off. When the cops picked me up they told me that if I tried that again, they would take my son away. Then he locked me in a bathroom for 3 days. When I finally cut a hole in the window screen, and climbed down off the roof to run across the street he grabbed me by the neck and tried to kill me. I can barely remember what happened, all I know is there was not one part on my body that was not injured bruised. After months of trying to escape, I finally was able to contact my mother who took me in. But that wasn’t the end of it. When I was about 5 months pregnant, I began to feel a sharp stabbing in my chest when I inhaled. I went to the E.R. They found a Pulmonary embolism in my lungs (blood clot in my lungs). These are extremely fatal. This part of the story is similar, I was admitted into the hospital, I took a shot ever 12 hours into my stomach, and after months finally delivered my second son. He is 7 years old. Here is a photo of my son. For his safety the photo I attached he is actually about 4 years old. He is a very quiet and gentle little boy. He literally cannot kill a fly (he catches them and throws them outside), he enjoys cuddling, hugging random strangers (unfortunately), praying, and day dreaming. I have personally never met anyone who is as sweet, unselfish, gentle, and loving as him. He loves to pray, and also loves scary things like ghosts and skeletons because they are “misunderstood”.

After I got my life back together, I married a wonderful man. After we were married for sometime, I got pregnant with my daughter. During this pregnancy I had a D.V.T and a P.E. I was hospitalized for nearly a month hooked up to machines to make sure my heart did not stop (the clots pass through the heart before they are thrown into the lungs). The doctors threatened to sterilize me without my permission. They called me “selfish” for wanting to keep my child. They told me that I was a bad mother because I wanted to keep my child. I delivered my princess, my vibrant, brilliant daughter. She has the longest most beautiful hair I have ever seen, she is soft spoken but wild and a true lady like little girl.

The Doctors told me they weren’t worth dying for. All the suffering I went through, all the shots I took, the bruises in my belly, It means nothing. In fact the second I held them in my arms I nearly forgot all of it. It meant nothing in comparison to the PEOPLE they are.

But dear, that isn’t the end of the story. A few months ago I had a pain in my leg that i noticed while at work. it wouldnt go away and got worse and worse. I went to the E.R. and they found not only a D.V.T that went up my leg, but also giant bi-lateral clots (P.E. in both lungs). But that’s not all they found. I also found out that I am expecting <3 I spent a few weeks in the hospital. It has been difficult to breath but I get a long just fine (it feels as if I am constantly out of breath from running). I am taking my shots, every day, in my stomach to be sure that the clots desolve, and that I don’t get anymore. And this February I will meet my child, my little person.

I’m 26 years old. I own a home, I live a wonderful life. I am well educated, I own a business, I have a family, and it is ONLY because of my children that I have pushed myself. It is ONLY because of my children that I have lived the life I have, that I never gave up. A lot of anti-pro lifers ask me, why would you risk your life for your “fetus”? Because this life in me, isn’t a fetus, its a child, its a person. And there is no greater glory to a Mother, then to give her life for the life of her child. I’m not scared of pregnancy, I’m not scared of death. I live a beautiful simple life, full of love and joy. I am satisfied at 26 to the point I feel I have lived a 1000 years of happiness. So, to answer you question, do I know how difficult pregnancy is? Absolutely. In fact, I am my obgyns FAVORTIE patient. I see 4 doctors every other week, and take weekly blood tests. My stomach is covered with bruises from the injections, bruises that I have to shove a needle back into to inject again and again. And I would do it all over. Any ‘pro choicer’ has absolutely NO right to speak for women who have life threatening pregnancies. Any ‘pro choicer’ has absolutely NO RIGHT to speak about the value of children, when you have never even held your own. You want to speak for women who want abortions? Speak for another group, because I have met women who would and have risked their life to have a pregnancy that wasn’t “convenient”. You telling me about emotional, mental and physical stress of a pregnancy, when I lied in a hospital when I was 17 months old mocked by every one I loved while i lived in fear of death? You are telling me that I just don’t “care” about any of that, that it proves that my views are hateful? Think again. When I risk my lives for my children, I do it because my love is completely unselfish. Because WHO am I to decide that my life is more valuable than anyone else life? Who am I? They were worth it. I promise you.

Always reblog.

Tags: Abortion Life

Anonymous said: are you anti abortion because you are christian?

No. I have been a Christian for 4 years. Before that, I was an agnostic. All this time, I have been anti-abortion. I don’t need my religion or faith to convince me that abortion is wrong. I never did.

Having said that, Christianity has been a driving force for my passion about people. Christ has revealed to us that human life is precious. I have talked to people personally who have survived abortion. I have read their stories. All in all, I don’t think I could be a Christian and not be anti abortion. I just cannot see how I could follow Jesus, who died for us, and not stand up for people even if they are just babies or unborn. Christianity, more than anything else, has taught me to value life and to treat everyone as valuable, regardless of their age, status, class, or race. It has shown me that we are all made in the image of God, and it gives me a reason and hope to speak out against what I believe is murder.

Thanks for the thought-provoking question.

God bless,

Samuel Assaf

oh-snap-pro-choice:

independent-conservatives:

Why doesn’t the same theory go for unborn human babies?

Cease and desist immediately.
Someone who gets an abortion and someone who kills an animal for food are two very, very different things. A person may abort because they can’t support a child financially. They may abort because the child was a result of rape. They may abort because they just don’t want to be pregnant. Those things are all fine. Killing an animal who lives on a farm to eat it is different. One, killing animals isn’t inherently unethical. Two, you’re not carrying a chicken in your uterus before you kill it.
These two things can’t even be compared.
Also, hey, the initial argument is inherently kinda crappy.

Since when did the value of animals take precedence over human life? No matter if you are vegan or meat-eater, how can you say that a chicken matters but a human does not? How can you advocate for life and justify murder at the same time? Yet, you may say that this situation is different because killing a baby is convenient. Surely you cannot deny the convenience of killing animals! It has been a great source of food since history began! Or should we abort pregnant cows and pigs so we can acquire beef and bacon in the name of convenience? Once again, hypocrisy is shown.
I am horrified that you approve of the spilling of blood of your own kind, yet speak out against the blood-shedding of animals. If you are so pro-choice about life, at least be consistent and encourage us to choose what to do with the life of an animal! Otherwise, do the proper thing and see the precious value of humans in every stage of life, including infants that haven&#8217;t exited a vagina yet. Humans are not a number! 

oh-snap-pro-choice:

independent-conservatives:

Why doesn’t the same theory go for unborn human babies?

Cease and desist immediately.

Someone who gets an abortion and someone who kills an animal for food are two very, very different things. A person may abort because they can’t support a child financially. They may abort because the child was a result of rape. They may abort because they just don’t want to be pregnant. Those things are all fine. Killing an animal who lives on a farm to eat it is different. One, killing animals isn’t inherently unethical. Two, you’re not carrying a chicken in your uterus before you kill it.

These two things can’t even be compared.

Also, hey, the initial argument is inherently kinda crappy.

Since when did the value of animals take precedence over human life? No matter if you are vegan or meat-eater, how can you say that a chicken matters but a human does not? How can you advocate for life and justify murder at the same time? 

Yet, you may say that this situation is different because killing a baby is convenient. Surely you cannot deny the convenience of killing animals! It has been a great source of food since history began! Or should we abort pregnant cows and pigs so we can acquire beef and bacon in the name of convenience? Once again, hypocrisy is shown.

I am horrified that you approve of the spilling of blood of your own kind, yet speak out against the blood-shedding of animals. If you are so pro-choice about life, at least be consistent and encourage us to choose what to do with the life of an animal! Otherwise, do the proper thing and see the precious value of humans in every stage of life, including infants that haven’t exited a vagina yet. Humans are not a number! 

"Carry your Cross until your bones break. It’s never too late to change."

— Dayseeker, Hollow Shell