My
kids don't know what I do for a living. Not really. When I worked
at Cobb Pregnancy Services they would sometimes visit me and see the
little 12 week fetus models, which anyone familiar with prenatal
development knows looks like the really small human being that it is.
Later when I asked them what they thought I did for a living they
said, “You sell babies.”
Some
people in the pro-life community raise their children with an
intimate and extensive understanding of abortion, but my wife and I
decided to shield our kids from the ugliness of the world for as long
as the world would let us. Our view is that there is no reason to
prematurely burden them with the worries of their parents, though we respect our friends who make different decisions.
Our
children know that we are not huge Obama fans just as the children of
the President's supporters know that their parents don't want Romney
to win. From the stories my kids share with me, apparently grade
schoolers have very interesting political discussions. I assume as a
by-product of one of those converations, my 7 year-old daughter asked
me who I voted for in the election as we walked together today. I
cleared up that the general election would not be held till November,
but that her mother and I would be voting for Romney. She then asked
me one of those questions that remind me how much our kids are
listening.
“What
does President Obama do that gives you more work?”
“What
do you mean?” I asked.
“Mommy
once said that he did something that made you have more work to do.
What does he do?”
I
explained that I travel around talking to groups about the idea that
all human beings matter. That all of us deserve basic respect and
basic consideration no matter our age, ability, or health. As long
as we are human beings we matter by virtue of that fact alone. There
are other people that believe that what we can do matters most. They
use that idea to say that some human beings don't matter in the way
that others do. Perhaps if they are severely injured, older and in
declining health, or haven't been born yet then they don't deserve
the same basic considerations as others. They believe they are
different than us in value because of those types of differences,
that those differences are very important. “In many other areas we
differ as well, but President Obama defines valuable human life differently than your mom and dad.”
She
then asked something that reminded me why I think organizations like
LTI are so important. “So that is why you hate President Obama?”
We
were already holding hands as we walked, but I stopped her and made
sure she was listening. “We do not hate President Obama. What I do
is to train people how to disagree about these important things
without hating each other. How can we teach that all life is
important and precious and yet hate people for disagreeing with us?
We have to stand up for what we believe, but we have to do it in a
way that shows people we are motivated by love. Both of those goals,
arguing our case and loving our enemies, are part of our jobs as
Christians. I love President Obama and wish him and his family no
ill will.”
“So
would it be right to say that you hate some of his ideas?” she
asked.
“Yes.
And that is why your mother and I would prefer he is not our
President and will exercise our right to vote for his opponent. But
if he wins, we won't freak out or act like it is the end of the
world.”
She
nodded, “You will just have more work to do.” She paused for a
moment clearly still mulling some things over, “Maybe you can
change the President's mind. If I were the President and you told me
that all human beings mattered I would listen to you.” I explained
that unfortunately adults aren't always open to changing our minds
that way. Some people voted for him because he promised explicitly
not to change his mind about what we are allowed to do to human
beings that haven't been born yet.
“You
know one of my friend's mom had a baby that died before it was born.”
She paused for a moment. “It was very sad.”
“That
is sad when that happens,” I told her as she squeezed my hand
tightly.
“I
agree with you and mommy. I think that all human beings are
valuable.” She quickly shifted gears discussing her future as an
artist and some objections she sensed that I had to that career
choice.
I
know a lot of my friends feel I should have been much more explicit
in telling her about abortion, but I can't help but think of the
example of Caspar ten Boom, Corrie ten Boom's father, when she asked
him about sex on a train ride at the age of 10 or 11. She relayed
the story in The Hiding Place:
I
suddenly asked, "Father, what is sex sin?"
He
turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but
to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his
traveling case from the rack over our heads, and set it on the floor.
"Will
you carry it off the train, Corrie?" he said.
I
stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare
parts he had purchased that morning.
"It's
too heavy," I said.
"Yes,"
he said. "And it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his
little girl to carry such a load. It's the same way, Corrie, with
knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are
older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to
carry it for you."
That
incident weighs heavily on me as a father. It is extremely
gratifying to hear my little princess ask such questions and to try
to help her understand what she needs to know right now. If she
truly grasps that all human life matters and that we do not hate people because they believe ideas that we hate then it is a
good start. For now, I am content to carry the suitcase a while
longer till I am convinced they are ready to handle it on their own.