Yesterday a lady and her little boy came into the bank, and came to my wicket. The little boy had big brown eyes, close cropped hair, and a big grin. And he was on the skinny side, for a boy of about three. I nearly called him Gid three times in the five minutes he was sitting on my counter looking at everything. Thankfully his voice was very cutesy, which did not help the resemblance to my little brother, otherwise I might have started bawling.
It’s been a little over six months since my little brother’s death, and I keep finding myself at odd moments just staring at something, saying; “Why? Why? He’d be five, learning how to read- why? None of my college friends ever even got to meet him. Why? I just don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense! He’s supposed to be charming every woman of every age with his big long-lashed eyes and beautiful grin. It doesn’t make sense.”
I’ve also been seeing a lot of information about George Tiller on the news. If you haven’t heard, he is an abortion doctor who was recently murdered. Specifically, the clinics which he owned and made his living off of performed late-term, or partial-birth, abortions, which is “the termination of a viable fetus.” I have not looked into it, but I doubt that Dr. Tiller or his family, including his two physician daughters, were hard off for money. Given that he was contributing campaign money to the eventual Health Secretary, I have a great deal of doubt in that direction.
And I am finding it very hard not to simply decide that justice has been served with his “murder.”
This man has reported the termination of over 2600 viable fetuses since 1998. To rephrase, he has supported himself and his family on the profits of making sure that more two thousand and six hundred human beings that were capable of surviving outside of the womb were unable to survive. So roughly one every regular business day.
This makes me very angry.
However, keeping very firmly in my mind the verse which says “Vengeance is mine, sayth the LORD, I will repay,” I will concede that it is wrong to take justice into my own hands. I should not go out and kill abortion providers, and that goes for all of you too. Another “why?” moment.
And here’s the kicker. Dr. Tiller was shot in church, where he was serving as an Usher. His wife sung in the choir. Possibly still sings, though I don’t know and don’t particularly care. He professed to be a Christian. He had to believe he was doing the right thing, I can’t see someone living through continual death threats and hate mail for years for something he thought was wrong, or simply because there was good money in it.
So am I going to meet Dr. Tiller and Gid both, when I go home? My little brother who loved Cars and the man who is survived by his wife, four children and ten grandchildren? And will he meet 2600 little souls he sent to meet their maker? I just don’t know. It’s too much for me to understand, to get my head around. This is why I am not judge, jury and executioner, I suppose. Justice, Death and Life are just too much for me. But I do believe there is someone who can comprehend, someone both merciful and just, and someone who
will has forgiven my murderous leanings, my pride and my self-righteousness. Among many other things.
Lord I believe, forgive thou mine unbelief.