Since I listen to the news in my car as we drive from place to place, my youngest listens with great interest to the latest developments in weather, traffic, politics and sports. Last week, we were driving about and listening to the news on a Thursday to discover that New York had passed the most aggressive pro-abortion legislation in our country's history, allowing for late term abortions as well as making it legal for non-physicians such as nurse practitioners and PA's to do the procedure. One news report quoted a memo from the National Institute for Reproductive Health that the Reproductive Rights Act will ensure "that medical providers who are trained and qualified to provide abortion care can do so... in rural and other medically under-served communities." As we drove from bank to post office, we heard that the New York Legislature greeted the passing of this bill with cheers and applause. I looked at my son as this information was being disseminated from radio speakers of our truck. He was looking out the window.

In the next instant the spokesman blared, "The top of One World Trade Center was lit in pink on January 22 in celebration of the progress made in women's reproductive rights."

"Mom. Why would someone want to kill their baby? I love babies," my inquisitive preteen turned toward me and asked with a puckered lip.

I looked at him, buildings passing by as we made our way to the next errand. His perspective is simple, black and white, untainted by our modern view of sex and rights and power.

"I don't get it either," I said shaking my head. "Some people don't understand." We listened some more, then switched the radio over to music. My head was full of images and things I wanted to say.

I wanted him to know how much he is loved! And, that there was never a discussion about keeping his life. I wanted him to know that he was wanted long before he ever entered our home. But... he needs to know some people don't want a baby. Some people are scared. Some people are mad. I don't know how to explain this, but this fear is real. God can heal all of this though. He needs to know that.

Finally, I came out with the only thing I knew to say, "We need to pray that God will open their eyes, Gabe. We need to pray that He will enable them to see how precious each and every life is, even though it may seem tough or difficult or sad."

We looked at each other, traffic whirling by on either side of our suburban. He nodded.

"Yes," I heard him say quietly, his eyes looking out the window again.  The pucker was gone from him lips now and a knowing gaze came across his face as he fixed his eye on a passing car.