I’m sure you’ve noticed my lack of posting about Terri Schiavo. It’s not that we don’t talk, pray, and ponder the matter in our house, but there are two reasons why I haven’t posted on the matter this week:

1. I already spoke my mind when I advocated the electric chair or lethal injection as the way to murder her (tongue-in-cheek, of course).

2. What can I possibly add that hasn’t been said already?

But, I’m lying here on the couch, sick with a terrible virus: useless to all, in need of some artificial mechanism juice to help me breathe (unlike some other people with the initials, TS), and arguably a little brain damaged. What? But there’s hope for me? Not without a little Excedrin therapy and some vitamin C tabs, I assure you. Luckily for me, my rehabilitation can be purchased for about $12.99. Whew. I’m glad my husband isn’t a cheapskate.

Nobody is self-sufficient.

We all depend on someone. The poor and weak in our society are often referred to as dependent: pre-born babies, the handicapped, and the elderly. But lying on the couch, sick, I realize that we are all dependent.

I am dependent on my 6-year-old to bring me tissues, read to the girls, and fetch my water. Heh, I’m glad that I get water. Furthermore, I’m dependent on the oil company that makes the gas in the car that I’ll drive to purchase the antibiotic from the doctor who was trained by the university that was built by burly construction guys who made it to work because of the 12-steps of AA which is staffed by volunteers who got out of bed because life was deemed a gift.


Then the LORD said to him, “Who has made man’s mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the LORD? (Exodus 4:11)

Yes, I’m dependent on a 6-year-old boy today, but we are all ultimately dependent on a long-suffering– and at least lately for our good– slow-to-wrath Creator. You don’t take a breath that He doesn’t allow and enable you.

We can argue Terri’s viability, and I thank those who are dedicating themselves to that work. But what does it matter? A nine-month old “fetus” can be killed, even though she’s viable, due to a “mother’s” inconvenience. The pro-death camp long ago conceded that our right-to-life isn’t a viability issue, but a (my) “rights” issue. And we all know, might makes right.

Let’s call a spade a spade.

And so “Can the pot say of the potter, ‘He knows nothing?’” (Isaiah 29:16) What we are facing is the age-old sin of making gods in our own image. No, we don’t admire the golden calves of our forefathers. Instead we declare ourselves to be judge and arbitrator, set ourselves in the place of God, and save everyone the hassle and spare change of casting golden statues. We put the gold in our pockets instead, wise economists that we are.

So while millions of babies continue to die a slow and agonizing death sustained by burns from a saline solution, and while we continue on injecting the inconvenient feeble with a needle that crushes their skulls—we now throw high our arms in agony that they’ve come for a dispensable “wench” outside of the womb?

The throne has been created for our humanist god, while those who bow to the king’s fat belly are blissfully unaware that they are his next meal.

The only thing I don’t get is why there are those who are still “confused.” But, that’s right, I’m not thinking straight today.