In 1980, an unnamed woman went into the doctor's office to look into having her tubes tied. What she didn't know was that this procedure was too late. She was pregnant, and she was faced with a choice. She could exercise her rights over her body and terminate her pregnancy, giving her temporary freedom, or she could have the baby, keep it and take on full responsibility for a life unplanned and unexpected or wanted, or relinquish it to adoption living with the pain of loss and not knowing this child.
None of the options are easy. But she chose adoption. In April of 1981, Baby Girl Foote was born. She was given a name by parents who anxiously awaited her arrival.
I was that baby. I was a candidate for abortion.
But an unknown woman gave me life. For whatever reason, she made the difficult choice of carrying me to term, feeling me grow in her belly, laboring to bring me the world just to look at me, possibly hold me for a moment, and then let me go. She knew that she may not ever know my name or see my face or know what I look like. But she chose life for me. She gave me a great gift.
But in America today, there are so many babies who do not get that chance. Life is taken before they breathe the air outside their mother's wombs.
I don't know if that will ever change in this country, nor do I think that taking part in this will necessarily change anything right now. But I am sending 5 red envelopes today to the White House, addressed to President Barack Obama. I was inspired by her. Each envelope is empty, and represents one child whose life was taken by abortion. Those children lost their right to offer anything to anyone, and that's why they are empty envelopes.
By God's grace, maybe statements like these may challenge some to pause and reflect. Maybe not one mind will be changed for the cause of life through bombarding the White House with red envelopes, but we cannot think that way. We do not know what our mighty God will use to begin to turn the tide for the right.