I got promoted again today…that’s not why I feel blessed though.

Nine months ago, I found myself wallowing in a depression, the likes of which I had not experienced since before I was saved. In the passing weeks and months, He has blessed me time and time again, but…

I always found myself thinking back to that dark point in my life when I thought nothing would ever go right again and I thought I would simply sink lower and lower until the darkness consumed me. I often wondered why I had to go through all of that, why it had to be me, why I had to be brought so low before I was able to feel so high and, until recently, I had passed it off with the easy reason of knowing that one has to go down before going up, even though I never fully understood it. Today, however, it occurred to me why I had to go through my trial and why I will continue to go through trials as I travel through life.

To go through something is always worth telling or sympathizing, but to go through something, only to come out on top afterward is a testimony and this is what He wants. Not just someone to say, I’ve lived through X and survived, but a true light to the world who can I say I lived through X and triumphed!

Today, I was able to testify to someone, albeit in a more secular fashion than I would have preferred, and it was not until afterward that it occurred to me why I was made to suffer. Without my suffering, my doubt, my pain, I would have had nothing to tell this someone who so clearly was searching for guidance. With no hardship of my own, my advice would have been a lecture, not a testimony.

At nearly 26 years old, I have had a blessed life. I can’t remember ever going hungry a day in my life and, even though my mother tells me we were poor when I was a small child, I never once felt it. As yet, I have yet to miss a rent payment, even though I had gone four months without a job and, while my debt to income ratio is not where I would like it to be, I at least know it exists and can still make plans for the future without worrying about a seven-year black mark on name. I am an American who was raised during the 90s, who never saw life on welfare or drugs in my home or wanton acts by parental figures in my presence; I’ve lived a charmed life.

When I became saved, the first thing I wanted to do was bring someone else to Christ, anyone! But, few willing participants could be found. I won’t go so far as to say that I saved anyone today, but I love simply realizing why Jesus pushes us through trials and uncertainty: so that we can be lights to others wandering in the darkness.

Today marks three years since I joined my church!

I sometimes mention this to some people and they either don’t care or just don’t find it terribly significant. For me, however, May 14th is like a birthday.

Three years ago, on a Mother’s Day Sunday, I decided to come to church with my mother because it seemed like the right thing to do; a gift, of sorts, for Mother’s Day. I had already been coming semi-regularly (because Christ always changes you before you realize it) and each Sunday I faced this inner battle when the pastor was inviting us to join the church. Part of it was my stubbornness saying, “No one is going to tell ME what to do.” Yet, another part, sounding far meeker and calmer, simply asked, “Why not?” It would feel like a burn in my stomach each time and the previous Sunday, it seemed like I had to grab hold of one of the chairs to keep from stepping out into the aisle and giving my life to Christ.

On May 14th, 2006, I didn’t have a response to the “Why not?” and so, I stepped out in the aisle and made my way to the front of the church, ready for a change in my life. I remember quite clearly Pastor saying, “I’ve been waiting for you, my sister.” as I approached and, as I sat down in the front row, I tried so hard not to cry. It wasn’t until I really “let go” that the tears started to come, not unlike they are now as I recall this event and, when I looked back into the congregation and saw my mother nearly sobbing over the fact that I had joined the church on my own free will, I really started to cry.

I can’t say that I changed from all my “evil” ways right there and then, but something was different in me from that day forward. Just reading back through the past entries of this blog can show anyone the difference in the person I was before and after May 14, 2006. Before I had joined the church, my friends and I would laugh at how ignorant all religious people were and how silly they all were to give 10% of their money to their churches and spend half their Sundays listening to “some sermon” every week. Before I had joined the church, Sundays were best spent lounging around, doing nothing and recovering from whatever I had poured down my throat the previous night. Before I had joined my church, Lincoln Park, the last time I had actively pursued a church, I left at the end of their service saying, “I don’t think I’m a Christian anymore.” Before I had joined the church, I was a floundering mess with no direction, no drive and, as sanctimonious and almost trite as it might sound, no future.

Like I said, the total change in myself didn’t come overnight. I still slipped up, but I was very aware of my slip-ups and desired to do more with my life instead. What stands out most to me, however, is what happened not even a full week after I had joined. My roommates were throwing a party that upcoming Saturday and, as I had an exam, for which I had not even cracked open a book, I told them that I would just go home to my parents’ house that Saturday so I could study and then get up for church the next morning. I remember quite clearly one of my friends looking at me quizzically and saying, “Well…you can miss one Sunday, can’t you?” Now, the friend who said this to me is not “evil” or someone who was trying to cause my downfall in any way, shape or form. In fact, we are still, in some sense, friends today, but the question she posed seemed simple and obvious. And, I had actually thought about it for a minute and let the words swirl in my head as I struggled with an answer. You can miss once. It’s just once.

The problem was it would not have been “just once.” Just once would have signified that the commitment I desired to make on May 14th meant nothing, that joining the church was no different than saying that I was going to go to the gym every day or put in three hours of studying every night or write more or call my relatives or try to reach out to old friends…when I never did. “Just once” was not just once. It was everything my life had been up to that point and I knew that if I was going to make a commitment to Christ, I did not want to face this particular “just once” on my judgment day. So, I told my friend that I really had to study (which I didn’t really do when I got home) and I didn’t want to be a downer for their party. They had their party and I went to church that Sunday and have felt like I was at least walking towards the path God had lain out for me ever since.

In many ways, May 14th really is like another birthday. I sometimes detest the term “born again” because I had known so many people who were “born again” and were the most mean-spirited, antagonistic and amoral people I had ever witnessed, but sometimes the term is fitting. On May 14th, I was born again in Christ. While I know I will still have struggles and countless slip-ups between now and the time my journey is over, my goal in this life is to never need to be “born again” again. My goal is to just stay on the path and to let May 14th be the only “born again” day I’ll ever need.

My disgust for China has been mounting over the past few years, culminating to near outrage in August 2008 and has been teetering there ever since. What riles me this morning is China’s obvious mudslinging in a report drafted just two days after we (the US) published a report that stated the obvious: China’s human rights conditions have worsened. However, China feels it appropriate to claim that violent crime is so sweeping in the US that we are terrified every day that we will be murdered on our way to work.

Crime, unfortunately, is a part of civilization and humanity and I find utterly laughable that China of all places would have the gall to publish a report condemning violence in the US when China refuses to make available the same kinds of statistics. Are they honestly going to produce a report saying the US is drowning in its own violence when its own country is even larger and far, FAR more of its citizens (if we even dare call those with no voice in their government and no venue for dissent such) are living under a poverty so great that few others could stomach it? But, take this into consideration, it is not only the US who finds China’s human rights record to be lacking; the UN on whole says the same.

There is an old saying about no ailments afflicting communist nations…because they simply refuse to report them. Who says that the level of crime in China is not equivalent to that of, or even greater than that found in the US? Regardless of a few signs allowed to appear in front of the cameras here or there, China does not allow its people the right or the ability to disagree with the government and it crushes any attempts to do so time and time again. It also sees its people gathering under the name of God to be likened to some kind of treason and Christians suffer in China almost as much as they would in Muslim countries. The government refuses to allow its own people unfettered access to the world’s greatest invention, the Internet, lest its people get some “crazy ideas” about democracy and dissent and it invites other countries to see its “progress,” only to mask the true pain and suffering of its people to paint as rosy a picture as possible for itself, but we are to believe that a country, who only twenty years ago would murder its own people in the streets to keep them from outpouring any discontent, is so devoid of violence that they can condemn the US for its issues with race and violence? Someone other than me has to see this as madness!

Their claims that racism is gripping the US to the point that we are pulled to our knees was the only part of their “he said/she said” that caused me to laugh. Of course we are going to have issues with race in our country. Few others were established in the manner that we were, few others manage the demographics that we do and the few that do resemble the US in establishment and demographics suffer from the same problems. People will find any reason to discriminate each other, just look at the UK where in some places there are simply not enough “different” people around so they poke fun at redheads. Discrimination is a human plight that effects all nations. I will take this moment to drag up Yang Peiyi’s brush-off again and ask if China really thinks that their government’s open preference for “whiter” Chinese over more “yellow” or even brown Chinese is somehow different from general racism in the US.

Previously, I kept my mouth shut when China had the nerve to “instruct” the US to stabilize its economy since they were at least giving the appearance that they were doing something about the companies that had intentionally added melamine to powdered milk (although, the fact that these companies even thought they could get away with outright deception and murder is a slam for China’s improved human rights claim) and also because they were, in some sense, correct; the world economy is dependent on the strength of the United States. If we fall, everyone falls. If we suffer, everyone suffers, so it is our duty as Americans to keep the world from falling into a depression. Now, however, I am convinced China has proved itself incapable of truly becoming the world leader it wants to be and, as I am an American who can do or say what she wants because of the rights guaranteed to me (in writing!), I can see no reason to speak with the proverbial kid gloves when it comes to China. It claims that the US should “stop acting as a human rights guardian,” but enlighten us China: If not us, then who? You?

I cannot say that China has not made any improvements in the last twenty years. They have and I am sure they have experienced more progress than deterioration of their citizens’ rights, but for them to even consider asking the US to look our “human rights issues” instead when the US is, more or less, an open book in regards to history and our current social climate…well, I find that to be a bit rich.

This day has just been crap. I can’t believe I’m doing so badly. I can only hope that things go better the next time around, but still it irks me.

What angers me is that people continuously pretend that things are “okay” and “no big deal,” but things never are. Why can’t people just be straight with you. I irritates me to no end. I had far more to say, but…..

************************************

Okay, now that more than 24 hours has passed since I first started writing this same post, and I am still too drained to say anything.

People always tell me everything probably because I have the ability to keep my mouth shut…I don’t have much to add on that except that’s its happened so many times in just so many days, so I’m not real sure what I should do….Oh well.

I’m just so disgusted by what I see in the world. Only the most perfect of persons get the opportunities and the second chances. I hate that I’m party to it even though I’m not in it. I hate that I somehow benefit from all of it. It makes me sick and makes me hate myself and makes me hate the world. I just taught a lesson last Sunday about loving everyone, but a question arises in me: If I hate this world so much, this world over which reigns the evil one, does that make me less a Christian? Does having hate for this evil world yield hate in my heart? I don’t specifically hate any one person, it is simply the system. How people, in general, behave. The fact that they lie, the fact that it seems every man is out for himself, the fact that it seems that the more Christian, that is Christ-like, I attempt to make my life, the less I see of Him in others. The entire thing makes me sick. If I was outside of everything and saw what was happening, I’d hate me. I would make myself sick. It’s just times like these that I really don’t know what to do except pray about it and hope it works out on its own….

We, my generation, we are Generation Y. Rather than a voiceless, aimless group, we ask the questions and demand answers. We are the first generation to grow up with computers, and one day the history books will reflect how this electronic intrusion has manipulated all of human thought. I find it ironic that I say this as I write in an online blog, but today all I ask is Why.

Why do people pass away? I know the chemical and physiological and evolutionary explanations, but these just tell me how; they never answer why. Why is that I can see one person on a Sunday afternoon, say hello to them, give them a hug, talk to them and wish them a happy, blessed week, and then seven days later learn that I will never speak to them again? Yes, she looked slightly paler than usual and she did have a bit of a limp, but I knew she was sick and just assumed that this was a part of it. Never had I imagined that I would never talk to her, attend meetings with her or hold hands during altar call ever again. There’s a part of me that still struggles to understand it. It doesn’t quite make sense in the grand scheme of things. There are so many cruel, terrible people in this world that never deserved to make it to the ages that they have, but they keep on laughing and living and being their cruel selves. Why should this Christian just slip away before another Sunday’s service?

In my heart, my only comfort at that thought was that I know she was saved and now she is at peace, but in my mind I am still confused. Who’s name did the pastor just say? No, that couldn’t possibly be her. It must have been another Kimm; someone I don’t know. Then, the realization hits and further questions are asked. Anger and wonder endures. Is this what will happen to me when I pass from this world? A mention during the announcements? But, what was I expecting the pastor to do?

I haven’t cried yet, though I do feel like the tears are just underneath my thoughtful facade. The service is Friday; she passed on Sunday. I feel almost robbed; like someone should have told me that there was a chance. It just seemed like she was sick, not fighting for her life. It’s not fair that people should die.

As a Christian, I know she’s at peace, but as a human being, this is where I struggle. I’m still in a state of disbelief and I am worried about what’s about to come. Not just the service, but those in future. There are so many more souls in my life now, so many more people I have to love. All I have is the question, how many times will have to endure this over the years? I know there’s no way to discern an exact number, but I know for certain, it is far too many.

I have long since vowed to shut away the shallow, snobby and overall bitchy side of my personality forever. While I do manage to keep that part of myself in the dark, every once in a while the “other” me rears her head and I am left to face the idea that I will never be able to run away from which my primary education has taught. I grew up with rich, snobby, shallow kids and took on their personalities as my own because I simply did not know any better. It wasn’t until college that I decided that the “bitchy” way was not how I was going to live my life. I want to forget and pretend that I never was that way, and then there are days like today, when no matter how hard I try, it always comes back to haunt me.

First I received a call from someone from church asking for help. The bitchy side of me immediately flared up and I wanted to lie and say that I could not be of any assistance, but I didn’t. I decided that the Christian thing to do was to use the abilities given to me and help others anyway that I could. And so I sat waiting for my two-hour Judging Amy zen-block, feeling rather proud of myself for effectively beating back the snobby bitch-monster and doing so in a timely manner.

Now, I can’t really pinpoint why I’m so obsessed with Judging Amy right now, but that is for another day’s analysis. The point is, I am and for the past few episodes, Amy’s mother, Maxine has been hinting towards starting a relationship with her gardener. While the the gardener part didn’t bother me so much, because honestly, only a tried and true spoiled snob would automatically look down on someone because he or she was “the help,” what disturbed me was who was playing this particular gardener, Cheech Marin, as in Cheech and Chong do whatever ridiculous pot-smoking adventure they did back in the day. So for the past few days, all I could think about was, “Oh God No! Not Cheech Marin! She can’t be dating Cheech Marin!” Not because he was playing the gardener or because he’s Spanish, but because everytime I see his name I can only think of some poor, lowly and loaded, dirty, little, old man. And he was back for both of today’s episodes, well yesterday’s…, and in the first one, after I almost wanted to turn the channel from the ridiculous country music playing through the episode (and it wasn’t even fun country, just people screaming into poorly played instruments), Cheech Marin, the gardener asked Maxine if he could “court” her.

Of course, I was just beside myself at the thought. Maxine was supposed to be this respectable and good woman and here she was parading around with….with him! The second episode started and there stood respectable Tyne Daly, playing Maxine, hand-in-hand with not-so-respectable Cheech Marin, the gardener. At this point, I barely remember what else happened throughout the rest of the episode except the end. Toward the end of the episode, Maxine’s son, Peter is basically spying on her and Cheech Marin while they were sitting on the front porch and all Peter is saying is “I can’t believe she’s dating the gardener!” which, surprisingly, did not phase me in the least, because deep down, I now realize, I was really thinking the same thing. Eventually, Maxine comes in the house to tell Peter to stop spying and he starts to say to state the obvious, that she’s dating the gardener, but she cuts him off and tells him that he, the gardener (I think his name is Ignacio), is a good man and that she hopes Peter wasn’t thinking what she thought he could be thinking.

It was only in this moment that I realized that the old monster was just as prevalent in me as it always had been, and what was worst was that I hadn’t even noticed. I didn’t even see the shows message coming. The whole time Cheech Marin is on the screen, I have my eyes partly covered because I couldn’t bare to watch what was happening and, thus, I could not see what was happening. Of course, the show used Cheech Marin for the gardener, because whoever directed these episodes probably figured that the viewers would have some past reservations about Cheech Marin and the reaction to him dating Maxine would be exactly what they wanted. I didn’t even notice until the last moments of the episode that I was no different from Peter thinking his mother shouldn’t be dating “the gardener” in that, even in a fictional show I couldn’t get past my own prejudices and take an actor, a person, on face value.

….

It just gets depressing to think about how long it is going to take for me actually shake all the wrongdoings of my childhood. At any normal point in my day, I would never allow past snobbery (if that’s a word) to have an effect on my thinking. What’s frightening is that when my guard is down and I’m least expecting it, I revert back to the same old me. And that’s exactly where I don’t want to be.

I’ve been reading all about the conflicts in the mideast all morning.

I don’t think I was going anywhere with that, it just must be said because it got me to my present state.

I think it’s highly far-fetched to think that my single prayers have reached God and that He acted in my favor, but still….Though Israel has yet to cease fire on Lebanon, the US has at least made some comments to the world that sound as if we do not honor what Israel has been doing to the Lebanese people, and that’s a start. Sometime, either last week or simply last weekend, I found myself praying “God, please speak to your children of Israel. Please, speak to your children of Israel,” because I wholeheartedly disapprove of their actions. Yes, two of their soldiers were taken, and yes, Hamas has been making life more and more difficult for them, yet I still can’t see how Israel has the right to simply start bombing.

The US did the same thing following September 11th, and we were wrong too, but several things must be considered. First and foremost, terrorists, I use the name loosely, had used planes full of civilians to take out a major symbol of US economic growth and overall global power, killing more than three THOUSAND people in the process. For many of us, the wounds are still fresh and I know the thought of those events occurring in my life that Tuesday, never fail to bring a tear to my eye. More than three thousand people loss their lives in one day. Not three thousand soldiers, not three thousand active supporters of an imposing regime, three thousand people who had families and homes and were just living their lives. They were no more guilty of any unbeknownst atrocity committed by the quiet powers that be in the US, than the smallest child who has no knowledge of a world outside of its parents.

Second, the existence of the US has never come into question. Yes, there was a thriving populace of people living on this soil, before the word “America” was first uttered, but how many other countries have developed in the ways of the US? How many other countries were founded by invaders who not only remained, but remained long enough to outnumber and drive off the remaining indigenous peoples living on the land? Few if any, and none have gained the sheer might as the US.

Also, the US is not a secular nation. Granted a vast majority of its citizens are Christians, however, there are also Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Agnostics and numerous members of smaller religions. The US’s War on Terror, is not a war against Muslims, it is not Christians against Muslims, it is one country (our allies notwithstanding) fighting against those who would want to take away the freedom live one’s life as one chooses if only given the chance. The clash between Israel and the rest of the region, comes down to Jews versus Muslims, in its simplest form. You cannot expect to setup a Jewish state in a region where everyone is Muslim and expect complete harmony. It must also be considered that when we (the US) went into the Middle East, it was to a) finish what was left undone in the early 90′s and b) to remove an unjust leader. Yes, the situation in Iraq sucks right now, but it will get better. A civil war in Iraq will most likely take place before it does, but Iraq will be a democracy and the type of place where someone, be they from Ohio, Amsterdam, Ghana or Thailand, could visit and experience the country and its history without fear of being killed due to secular violence.

Now, even with all of this in the US’s stead, if we decided that we were simply going to begin bombing another sovereign nation over two soldiers, that international outcry would be such that all of the world would gather up in unison against us. Economic sanctions would be put on us, the UN would be in Washington trying to help oust our leaders, the list goes on. Two kidnapped soldiers are not worth the hundreds killed and the altered lives of thousands. I don’t care how long this issue has been occurring. It is unjust and a complete exaggeration. Don’t get me wrong: I believe that Israel has a right to exist just as much as I do to vote, but they do not have the right to just start bombing civilians over two soldiers. How many American soldiers….the hell with that, Americans period have been kidnapped by militants in Iraq? Are we bombing that nation off the map for those kidnapped souls? Of course not. Why? Because, as unfortunate as it sounds, the lives of the few who had been kidnapped are not worth the potential loss of life if we began a ridiculous bombing campaign in civilian-populated areas of Iraq.

(Phew)

With all this flowing through my mind, I began to pray that God speak to the children of Israel and stop the carnage. Reading BBC News today got me to Google Hamas and then to Wikipedia and then through a course of clicks that got me reading about the Prophet Muhammed, which of course got me thinking about Jesus and why I follow Christianity. While I believe, that every human being has a right to follow whatever religion they chose and also that Christianity is what is right for me because it has been proven countless times to me, while perhaps it has not for others, I can’t imagine someone who has heard of Jesus’ miracles and then of the Prophet and choose the latter instead. Granted, I don’t know a lot….well anything really about Islam, but that which I do know does not present the greatest picture to me. From what I have about Islam, which granted may be spotty at best, women are not equal to men in any regard, however a woman is the mother of Jesus and she is revered and, from what I understand about Catholicism, which is again very little, she is prayed to and she prays to Jesus on our behalf and He speaks to God. That’s quite a difference in my mind. So while, I sat reading about the much debated biography of Muhammed’s life, I wondered if I were exposed to something else first, say Islam for example, would I have jumped to Christianity upon hearing about it? Of course the answer is yes, and really it’s through knowing even the little that I do about the Bible. I would rather ask for blessings for One who is clearly not of this world. Jesus calmed stormy seas, turned water to wine, raised the dead, made the lame walk and the blind see, healed the sick, and not to mention the whole-dying-on-the-cross-for-the-sins-of-humanity-and-rising-in-three-days-to-ascend-to-heaven-thing. Jesus worked miracles; was a miracle, He came from a virgin mother. I feel confident when I think that the Bible stories alone, would bring me back to Christianity as they always have.

Other things happened this week too. I read an article about this physicist who has created a new mathematical theory that would challenge Einstein’s Relativity and also the idea of dark matter. Dark matter has always made me raise an eyebrow because claiming that celestial bodies moved about the universe due to it, sounds a lot like someone saying that the Earth is flat because one doesn’t feel that he or she walks on a curved surface. It was really an interesting article and it got me thinking about the universe in total. The Big Bang Theory is basically that “once-upon a time” there existed this dense ball if you will, that consisted of all of the matter in the universe. That ball exploded spewing matter across the universe as well as energy. This of course had me wondering the why question to which I can find none but secular answers. I guess that’s good because it keeps me a Christian, but I want to know. Why did that ball of matter burst? What was there before that ball of matter? How did it get where it was? Are there other great balls of matter somewhere that we just can’t see yet? All these questions and no one has answers or will ever answers, at least not in my lifetime, though I do plan on living until at least two hundred….

I’ve learned something interesting recently: class is important, and I think this bit of knowledge will help me be a better student. Just hearing people’s reactions about me missing class makes me rethink how I perceive going to class. It shouldn’t be taken for granted and I can never be at a disadvantage for hearing the material one more time. I think I’ll start to go more, besides it’s time that I stop letting everything else get in the way of what I need to do.

That said, I’ve got packing to do. We’re moving and hopefully life will be great.

…..

So yeah, fertility drugs….
…the more we talked about it, the angrier I became. The more I could not help thinking, “what selfish bastard would do such a thing.” I mean honestly, let’s think about this clearly. If fertility drugs are what is necessary for you, God has clearly not intended for you to give birth. I think people are having children for all the wrong reasons and this results in a lot of kids growing up “spoiled” and unloved. If one says that she wants to take drugs to get increase her chances of getting pregnant so that she can have someone to love and raise, then she’s a damn liar. How many millions of children are out there in this world in need of someone to love and raise them? How many children are isolated from other people living, literally, in cages or simply in their beds because there is no one available to hold them or truly care for them? If someone told me they went through fertility treatment just to have someone to love, I’d probably slap them in the face. They don’t want someone to love! They are just vain and want a little version of themselves running around loose. Knowing what I know now about those drugs, I can’t imagine any true Christian woman going through with it. The idea of what might happen with an undesirable result is just too much. How could someone live with themselves after it? How could you live on saying, “I wanted to be blessed with a child of my own so much that I was willing to give up on some if an undesired number developed?” It makes me want to burst into tears.

Why don’t people adopt more often? As of today, right this moment, were I in a place where I was deciding if I could have kids…..if I learned that I could not, I would be on an adoption waiting list the moment I learned of my misfortune. I don’t generally like children, mostly because most of those I know are ridiculous brats, but I could not imagine not loving any kids in my own house. If I decided that having kids was what I wanted and was ready for, providing that God did not decide for me, regardless if I was ready, and I could not bear my own kids, I’m not saying that I wouldn’t be heartbroken. Half the fun of my family is seeing the craziness form from generation to generation, but the thought of taking in a child in need would surpass that sadness quickly.

I think adopting a child is among the most noble and awe-inspiring things anyone could ever hope to accomplish. To take in someone else’s child so that that child can live in a loving, happy environment…..the very idea of it makes me smile. Maybe I’m just too young to understand, though I can’t imagine that being the case. Maybe I just see everything in terms of black and white far too often. Maybe I just have too much love to give. I love all the kids I used to take care of when I was younger. I would love the opportunity to raise a child, any child; just to have someone who would depend on me as they grew into an adult; to influence the entire life of another person….it seems almost magical.

I think, nowadays especially, life has become too precious to me, if that is even possible. When I think about how often the use of fertility drugs is mentioned in day to day society, it makes me realize how few people actually know the truth about them. What troubles me more, is how many people actually go through with it, knowing what the outcome could be. I think anyone who is too selfish and vain to use other avenues such as adoption as a means for having a child, has a very dark, cold future ahead of them; at least until they can successful explain to Jesus, why they thought it best to kill off some of their own children, rather than shower their love upon a child already here and in need of help.