Earlier this week, I read an article that both angered and saddened me. The title grabbed my attention, because it specifically mentions “a ‘deformed’ left hand.” I almost could not finish reading it. An Australian woman chose to have an abortion because her unborn child would have a physical “problem” and might face discrimination in the future. The following paragraph is from that LifeNews article.
Instead of condemning the abortion, much of the reporting at the newspaper laments that the couple couldn’t have killed their unborn baby sooner — as if destroying the “disabled” baby’s life earlier in pregnancy somehow morally atones for aborting an unborn child over a minor physical issue.
This appears to be a growing trend, or perhaps I am just more aware of it. Or perhaps women feel more comfortable acknowledging choosing abortion due to an “imperfect” child. This is tragic in more ways than I can express. And because of my own “deformed” hand, I see the huge injustice committed here.
My disability, Dejerine-Sottas, is progressive. I walk more poorly now than I did as a child, or even compared to two years ago. One thing has been fairly constant: my very weak left hand. It prevented me from playing a musical instrument, despite scoring well in a musical aptitude test. I did take voice lessons, and I still enjoy singing, but I always wanted to play the cello or piano.
I can only use my left index finger when I (try to) play piano or even as I am typing this post. I am unable to grasp or carry many things, and tying ribbons on my cards takes quite a bit of extra effort. Did kids make fun of me years ago? Yes. Do some kids still look at my hand with a funny and curious gaze? Yes. Has my hand (and legs and balance…) impacted my life’s journey. You betcha. But as Psalm 139:14 says,
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
God does not make mistakes! We live in a fallen world, so we will see and experience illness and pain, and possibly disability, but these experiences are not the sum of our existence. Nor do they define our purpose or value as individual persons.
Oh how I wish I could have spoken with this woman in Australia! How I wish I could have opened her eyes to the possibilities of JOY this child would have experienced! How I wish I could say to her “Your child will bring you joy too.”
I most likely will never meet her, but I can pray for her. I suspect someday she will regret her decision, but I do not want her to live in regret forever. JOY is still an option!
Will you do me a favor? Join me in prayer for this woman and her family, as well as other families who have chosen to abort “imperfect” children. Please pray that they find the One Perfect God, Who created them and loves them (and all of us) despite our imperfections.