Freedom Is Not Born from Evil

The subtle, evil coercion of lies I was told, and expected to believe as true, from the women’s movement over our reproductive rights came to encompass my ensuing years in solitary confinement. This affliction was never spoken of, nor allowed, as it was the forbidden subject — a slow drip of acid as the lifelong sentence for committing murder with the approval of the abortion advocates. This atrocity was sanctified and was given full rein by the law, in the name of liberation. It came when we, in collusion and in denial, with the devil’s glee, let loose his hoarding and clutching in the death of souls.

This blatant and horrific travesty allowed ourselves to dismiss the validity of our own lives for the killing of our children and left us carry on with little worth to our own existence. In renouncing the moral fabric of society and civilization, we left, forsaken and abandoned, for the contradiction of the peace and free love protesters denouncing the U.S. bombings during the Vietnam War. Yet within that ideological construct, a formidable shifting of priorities came to the forefront; the result was that personal responsibility was abdicated and life was devalued.

Required within these same newfound codes was denigrating the returning soldiers from Vietnam as monsters unfit to live. The consequences of “free love” engineered unwanted pregnancies to the same cesspool. The move in acquiescing to the formal mandate of non-life in the womb as only a clump of cells was a bridge easily crossed. The revolution trumpeted with pride as the the only cause worth fighting for. Their proclamation heralded freedoms for women; the rallying cry of feminists and those who were opposed were shouted down and cast aside under the banner as anti-woman.

With motherhood now negated and regulated as unworthy work, we were given carte blanche and applauded for sex anytime and anywhere. The dark belly in all this did not find comment for the evening news when we were then ridiculed for the “mistaken” pregnancies that occurred. It was now our job to insure against those unfortunate incidents, and once again for what we thought was gained to be as free as men, turned against us a hundredfold. Respect left and we were too foolish to realize what we had given away in the all fire demands of “equality.” Our arguments of “we were due” for the centuries of oppression and the free for all of abuse, fell into a far more insidious blame, the sneering for and of our insistence for the reparations of payback, the murder of innocents began once again.

Blindsided and punch drunk on our perceived victory, for and in our fornications, we gave total permission this time to be victimized in the so called “holy” act of sex. We all allowed humans to be reduced to our only viable component, mere sexual animals. We raped ourselves in thinking we had gained the world, and were oblivious to losing our souls in the evil bargain we made with Satan. We let ourselves be lulled into the detachment of complicity, while burying the known wrong. In this, we lost sight of our gifts that are given and our viability within the Church, and we sacrificed millions who would have saved us from our mortal sins.

I was guilty of succumbing to the “new freedoms,” their deceptions on an ever shifting immoral ground, the illusions of the “right” as the only reasonable recourse to their ironic definition and recourse to life. Yet the Church and science were in condemned and demanded to stay silent for daring to contradict the woman’s right to claim continually of non-life in the womb. In consequence, we were denied to hear the screams of horrific pain in the slow murder within our very own pregnant bellies. In the immediate, the lies won, but was unable to defeat and deflect away our self-loathing and the forgiveness of ourselves for such a choice. Our fight for equality denigrated us to the dustbin, the loss to ourselves and our murdered children—incalculable.

In the end, for those of us who took our belated courage in our hands and braved confession, we were granted the respite and some eventually found God’s forgiveness of our deeds and were at last able to keen in mourning for our lost dead children. My own son would be celebrating his 39th birthday this September.

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