I came across an interesting news article this morning and must admit, it initially gave me a sense of macabre satisfaction of divine justice wrought huge.  It has come to light that the owner of the Family Planning Associates seventeen California abortion clinics (which are one of the world’s largest abortion businesses,) Irving Feldkamp, is the father and grandfather of the nine family members who perished in a Montana plane crash last week.  You may never hear this in the pro-abortion news media.

The plane came to rest in a cemetery, right near a memorial to the unborn victims of abortion.  You can’t write fiction like that! Such divine irony!  It recalls the famous, oft-used line of the Beatrice Arthur character, Maude, “God'll getcha for that!”  The human part of my heart says, “That’s what happens when you defy God!,” but then I let the spiritual part of my heart say,  “But what does God think of this?”

Please don’t get me wrong.  I have nothing but sympathy for the Feldkamp’s and all of the friends and family of the fourteen victims.  It is said in life that sometimes God has to do something big and rash to get our attention and shake us out of complacency with the world.  In my life, I have always looked at tragedies and traumas to find the message and wisdom that God wants me to learn.  Sometimes it is the only way to deal with such things.

I do hope and pray that the surviving grandparents take a look at their lives and what they earn their living from and are careful not to couch it in worn out news-speak terms of “providing a needed health service, it’s a clump of cells, a woman’s right, strictly a business investment, etc.” mentality.  Hopefully this loss will lead them through much soul searching to the Giver of Life, the God of Second Chances.  It is a horrible way to be awakened.  I can’t think of a harsher action to jolt someone’s philosophy than that of a burning plane filled with loved ones.

Did God do this?  I don’t know and it is not my place to say.  It certainly is one of those times when we should take stock of ourselves and where we stand with the Lord.  He is a forgiving and loving God and is just waiting for our acceptance of Him.

I pray the Feldkamps take Him up on it.  It is never too late as long as we are breathing.  For as Jesus commanded Paul on the Damascus Road: “You will open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from Satan’s control to God’s.  Then they will receive forgiveness for their sins and a share among God’s people who are made holy by believing in Me.”  (Acts 26:18 God’s Word Translation)

 May the Feldkamps find peace in our Lord.  There is hope.  Just ask Bernard Nathanson…

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

Three babies, each given the spark of life, each heading towards different paths that lay before them…

Baby One to an excited couple, anxious and exhilarated at the thought of finally becoming parents after several miscarriages, Baby Two to a frightened thirteen year old girl and a long gone boy, and Baby Three to a seventeen year old honor student and her eighteen year old boyfriend.

All of the babies grew in size each day, with one’s progress being charted meticulously and compared to what was in all the baby books and the other two’s growth anxiously watched on the calendar.

Around the eight week point, Baby Three’s life was abruptly ended by abortion at the behest of the maternal grandfather.  You see, the mother was from one of the community’s fine upstanding families, her dad being the principal at the local high school.  An unwed daughter of the man who was constantly lecturing the student body about behavior, morals and school spirit producing his first grandchild in such a way just wouldn’t do. 

Babies One and Two continued on their journey.  Again, Baby One received everything to guarantee a healthy beginning, with prenatal care and scrupulous attention to diet on her mother’s part.  Baby Two plodded on, catching whatever sustenance she could obtain, competing for nutrients from her still maturing young mother, a child herself.

Seven months had passed.  Baby One was right on track and doing well.  Baby Two was in trouble and fighting to survive. The weeks of minimal nutrition and no medical care were taking their toll.  Her mom gave birth in a flurry of pain and secrecy, giving a false name upon admission to the hospital.  The birth went well, but the baby was suffering with respiratory distress and other premature birth issues.  A nurse went to advise the mother, but upon entering the room, discovered that she was gone, never to be found.  Baby Two then spent that first month in an incubator fighting for her life.

Baby One was born right on time and placed into the loving hands of her mom and dad, grandparents, aunts and uncles and myriad cousins. Baby Two struggled on through various bouts of bronchitis and pneumonia for the next eight months while in foster care.

But at the end of that time, Baby Two was handed to a U.S. soldier and flown to the United States, being placed in the loving hands of her new mom and dad, grandparents, aunts and uncles and many loving friends upon arrival at the airport gate.  Her new home was right down the street from Baby One and the little girls spent almost everyday of their childhood together.

I often wonder what Baby Three would have been like. He or she would be 25 years old right now and have several siblings, for the parents eventually did get married.  I know this because I went to high school with them and Baby One’s mom is my neighbor and friend.  She and I have spent many happy years raising our kids, because Baby Two is my daughter!

Please note: Certain details have been slightly changed to assure anonymity, but this story did happen.