http://network.nationalpost.com/np/blogs/fullcomment/archive/2009/06/03/george-jonas-where-killers-and-abortionists-meet.aspx

This article this morning had my heart in my mouth.  As i read, it was as if, finally, in Canada, in a newspaper, someone *got* what i feel.  I'm not alone.  I'm not seeing the situation wrong.  I can't talk myself into a lie.

I commented on this article:

Dear Mr. Jonas
You made me weep today.
I can't know your heart, and i'm sure you can't know mine, but you expressed it so perfectly, even as you denied being in my tribe.
I am the one who stays up nights, burning with shame that our tax money is killing children.  Wondering if we should look at moving to Poland, to Northern Ireland, to New Brunswick.
Where can we be free of involuntary collusion in murder.
Because this is what it is.
I have been pregnant eight times, and have seven beautiful healthy children, and one little peony bush planted in honor of the one who would have made that number eight.
She didn't live long enough to be born, but we gave her a name anyway (Charis, Greek for grace - for God was gracious to us to let us be her parents even for the short time we had, and gracious to us in our grief when she was lost to us forever.)
I have such a hard time knowing women my age, women of childbearing years, women who have looked at the pregnancy test to see two lines, who have felt that first swelling of their abdomen and wondered if they were "showing", who thought about names, and felt vulnerable for maybe the first time in their feminist lives.  Careful, cutting out alcohol, smoking, fatty foods.  Starting to recycle, filling the dresser drawers with onesies, tiny sleepers, even before that fateful trip to the hospital, returning hours later completely changed, with complete responsibility for a little one.  A responsibility so huge it seemed impossible that the hospital could have let her take that little one home.
To know these women, and that their hearts have been at one time, utterly soft to the humanity of what was within her, and yet so very hard to other women's children who are brutally rejected and unwanted.
I want to make a sign on my house "I will take your children"
I want to leave a basket on my porch when i go to bed.
I don't know how to help, i don't know how to change the world.
I don't want my children to grow up among a brutal tribe, degenerating into Stone Age violence, comfortable with double talk and comfortable lies.
My religion says we are all born with original sin.
But my Bible says protect the fatherless, the innocent.
And my country makes this impossible.

thank you for understanding my heart and for stitching up, so deftly, the threads that hang in the back of my mind whenever i read the newspaper or magazine articles about abortion or Tiller specifically.
How can i be sorry he's dead, when so many are saved?  Does this mean i support murder?  no.  But i am happy he's gone.
i struggle with this.