A conversation with some friends on the issue of pro choice versus pro life, left me thinking. A couple of friends surprised me with their point of view. One friend said he thought that if a woman was the victim of a brutal rape, she should have the choice to end the pregnancy. He said he was pro choice--"God gives us freedom of choice," he said.
"Freedom of choice to kill?" I asked.
The group of us, all believers, talked it through long and hard; me, still surprised that it would even be a question.
But I wondered later if I was being hypocritical. Would I compromise if the issue was closer to home--not so hypothetical? Would I be tempted by the ability to erase the result of an unthinkable assault if a grandchild was the victim?
It's easy to be so sure when it isn't you in the situation.
In the next room Paul was discussing the same question with another group of friends and afterwards he said, when I shared our discussion, "We don't condemn."
It's one of the reasons I love him. He steadfastly refuses to condemn, without being blind to injustice and wrong--a fine balance to strike.
As I tidied away the dishes I wondered why I hadn't thought of her sooner, during our conversation--my great grandmother Adriana. She who was raped, and bore my grandmother Kaatje. I don't know if choice ever entered her head but there are six great, great, great grandchildren of hers that I love dearly and it's hard to imagine that I and they would not be here at all, had she had a choice and made it differently.