I wanted to share a viewpoint from a fellow blogger today. Tony Perkins writes, "Abortion may have taken 55 million lives since Roe v. Wade, but it's created at least 110 million victims. Every one of those children had a mother--and not one of them was ever the same again. Some doctors would like us to believe that taking the life of an unborn child is just a simple, outpatient procedure. But lost somewhere in the pro-choice picket lines and political debates are the deeply personal stories of women trying to cope. And what was the Left doing to celebrate 40 years of legalized abortions? Releasing sick ads like the one described below. It was the brainchild of the Center for Reproductive Rights, a group that based on the video, the word "radical" doesn't begin to describe. The commercial features True Blood actor Mehcad Brooks holding roses and drinks in front of a roaring fire. At the end of a two-minute come-on, Mehcad looks at the camera and says, "Happy anniversary, baby. Lookin' good for 40. Mmm, mmm, mmmmm." Maybe the folks at CRR think it's funny to sexualize Roe's legacy with all the class of an SNL Ladies' Man skit, but in the end, all they did was prove pro-lifers' point: that the abortion industry is not only intrinsically evil but fundamentally uncaring. The Left may be seduced by abortion's appeal, but, as Live Action's Cassy Fiano points out, it's not exactly sexy to have an ad featuring a man who looks like he wants to take you to bed and then drop you off at the nearest Planned Parenthood. This smooth, but ultimately predatory tone, is what abortion is all about: Giving men what they want (with no consequences for them) while women are left to suffer and die. Even more repulsive, the Center intentionally uses an African American man to romanticize a procedure that happens to be the number one killer of the black community." Well said Mr. Perkins.
I am just beginning to dive into the beautiful, ancient devotion to the Five Wounds of Jesus, and I wanted to share a bit of the journey with you. It can feel a little overwhelming at first to look at the Crucifix this closely, but I’ve found such a gentle guide in St. Bernard of Clairvaux . In his Jubilee Rhythm on the Passion, Bernard doesn't treat the wounds of Jesus as distant historical facts or sights to be avoided. Instead, he approaches them with the tenderness of a friend, speaking directly to the feet, hands, side, and face of our Lord. For someone like me who is just starting out, his rhythm teaches that prayer isn't just about reciting words; it’s a holy hide-and-seek. Bernard invites us to literally hide ourselves within these wounds, seeing them as clefts in the rock where we can find shelter when our own lives feel turbulent or heavy. As I start this process, I’ve been practicing what I call gazing and greeting. Following Bernard’s lead, I look at the Crucifix an...