Worse than Cambodia

Having returned from Cambodia less than a month ago, two things weigh heavily on my mind: children and genocide. Sadly they aren't foreign words, and have even become fused in this country: abortion. Abortion is the murder of unborn children, not fetuses or blastocysts or whatever else they may be called. It's murder.

I've avoided writing this for a long time, for assorted reasons. I felt it wasn't my place, or that nothing good could come of it, but I still have to say it. I have to say it because the children dying every day can't, and there's always that glimmer of hope that writing something like this will somehow change a mind, save a life.

We're in the middle of our own genocide. I don't know how to end it, I don't even know how to convince people of the truth; but I can't be silent. There's no Nazis to fight or prisoners to free, just people who need love and truth. I don't know how to provide those, and God's the only one who I know can. But for every little bit as helpless as I feel, it's nothing compared to the helplessness of American babies who might one day become every bit as beautiful as the children I saw in Cambodia, but have their lives cut off before they even begin. It breaks my heart that children are dying and I can't help. But, it wracks my conscience that there are so many so silent and that I may be counted among them.

Jehoshaphat Reich,

Milton