Inside I’m Crying


The batter swung a little early, pulling a little blooper toward third base. Cathy didn’t have much time to react, but as usual she had an incredible jump on the ball. Diving forward she made a shoe-string catch. But what’s more she had the presence of mind to regain her balance and throw to second, just ahead of the runner who was trying to scurry safely back. The play was still not over, however. Cathy and several other teammates directed the second baseman to tag out the runner coming from first who was unaware of that magnificant shoe-top catch. A triple play! Even for a junior high girls’ softball team it was the thrill of the year.

Cathy was one of the best athlete I coached. She had such natural talent–speed, strength, quickness, ability to jump, intelligence, and an innate anticipation and understanding of what was about to happen on the softball field and what to do about it.

But Cathy had something else that made her successful in areas off the field as well as on. She was willing to work. I would watch her day in and day out work just as hard in practice as she would in a game. She was also coachable, responsible, a team player–the kinds of things that bring college scholarship offers to a freshman in high school.

Besides her obvious success athletically, Cathy had a great sense of humor, she was a good student, and she became a beautiful young lady.

I’d have to say that my life is richer for having known Cathy.

Yet I had the chance to know Cathy only because of the courageous and selfless decision made by her birth mother. This girl–yes, girl, only thirteen, perhaps in middle school–became pregnant, and though abortion was legal, she allowed Cathy to have her chance.

It must have been a hard, painful decision–first to be so young and to be pregnant for nine long months. Then to give her baby up for adoption, never to have the advantages of mothering this child she had brought into the world.

But if this young girl, this child bearing a child, had not been willing to go through the hard times, I would never have known Cathy. Neither I, nor her adoptive mom, her high school coaches, her friends, her teammates. We would all have been the poorer if abortion had robbed us of Cathy.

Isaac was also a fine athlete. In his eighth grade year, he helped his coach lead the school football team from being a laugher to being a competitive unit with a winning attitude. Isaac was the stopper on defense. As middle linebacker he had the uncanny ability to read the quarterback and make the clutch interception or the big stop on a running play.

He was big and strong, quick and aggressive. And he was a character, a real jokester. He kept things lively both on the field and in the classroom.

But what a lot of people might not see right away was Isaac’s soft, sensitive heart. He was bursting with pride, for example, at the birth of his baby sister, blustery when talking about her, but soft and tender when he held her.

As Isaac matured, he began to use his lively personality in positive ways. He was a natural leader; his teammates respected his talent and intensity. And he became more serious about his school work and about his walk with God.

I feel privileged to have known Isaac, and my life is richer because of him.

But he, too, was born in the age of “choice,” when his birth was not to be taken for granted. His mother was a single parent, and yet she made the selfless decision to give birth to Isaac and the lonely decision to raise him. I can only speculate at the years of heartache she was willing to endure for the sake of her son.

And yet how unthinkable the alternative. If Isaac’s life had been snuffed out in the womb, I would never have seen his laughing eyes or known his gentle heart or appreciated his athletic prowess.

I cry inside for the millions of Cathy’s and Isaac’s that none of us will ever know because abortion has robbed us of their lives. Having known Cathy and Isaac, I have some small idea of how much we really are losing.

Published in: on September 10, 2012 at 6:38 pm  Comments Off on Inside I’m Crying  
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