What child is this...

I recently came across this article about prenatal genetic testing. It talks about how some people who are deaf or have dwarfism are interested in IVF of embryos that will grow into children with their same genetic difference. I am opposed to IVF and other fertility treatments, not because I think the procedures are "playing god" as some say, but because I consider it fairly selfish to go through extraordinary means to obtain a child with shared genes when there are so many children at home and abroad who need homes.

When I was in college I attended a screening of videos other students had made for a class. As a part of one video, there was an interview with a middle-aged lesbian couple. When they were asked the question "if you had a child would you prefer them to be gay or straight?" one woman replied that she hoped her hypothetical child would be gay. Her partner answered that she would prefer her child to be straight, because she wouldn't want her own child to face the same kind of discrimination she had faced.

When someone decides to have a child, they usually want what is best for the child. They want their child to have all of the good things in their life and none of the bad. Nurture doesn't always work. You can raise up a child in the way you think he should go but in the end, he may well depart from it. Folks are thinking about manipulating nature in order to help influence the kind of person they get to raise. That makes a lot of sense. The only problem (other than the slippery slope towards eugenics) is that the foolishness of God is wiser than men.

I believe that we are all children of God, in possession of a great potential only known by God. My professional/academic accomplishments, financial status, medical history, race, gender, orientation, abilities/disabilities do not have any relationship with my worth as a human being. We are all one in Christ.

The human race seems to have the "go forth and multiply" thing down. We seem to be struggling more with the keeping "orphans and widows out of distress" part.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

A story about prayer

I would really like to go to bed right now, but I don't think I can without sharing this story here. I'm in such a good mood that I don't seem to mind this prompting in the slightest.
This morning, I was lying in bed with a terrible migraine. I was feeling worthless for missing work and being weak. I was in a very bleak place, perhaps the worst I've been since I was in the hospital earlier this fall. Lying in the dark, waiting for the migraine drugs to kick in, I was being mindful of how being in physical pain affects my mental health and trying not to take my dark thoughts too seriously.
I tried to think of things that I could do once my headache cleared that would help improve my mood and had the snotty thought that if so-and-so would just call, things would be a lot easier to handle because I've have something tangible to look forward to. I heard the tone of my internal voice and decided to ask for help. I didn't call my therapist, since I was still too sensitive to sound to talk on the phone. I decided to pray.
When I pray, I don't pray for the pain to go away, or for a boy to like me, or for the job I want or to win the lottery or for a specific outcome in an election. I feel that there is too much presumption and pride in asking for these things, as if to ask for my aunt to be healed of breast cancer were questioning God's Plan for her life.
What I do pray for are comfort, strength and/or direction. This morning, I prayed for the strength to get through those dark moments. I prayed for a while and I may have dozed off a little while praying. The next thing I knew, my phone was ringing and the pain in my head was gone. It was that phone call that would supposedly make everything better. The one that might make it easier to be hopeful even when things get really ugly.
It feels good to have gotten what I wanted, but it feels better to know that I did the right thing. I feel centered and holy, even, knowing that in the heat of the moment, in the darkness where I needed Him the most I was able to cast aside the petulant child and be the faithful servant He so desires me to be. It sounds a little like pride, but it is something entirely different. It's the precious feeling that only comes from believing that everything is right between me and God. There is nothing better in the world and I have only found it in perfect obedience.
This evening, I am going to bed with words of praise on my lips. I hope that each of you, dear Friends, can do the same.

With Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst