writing

Pastor Gordon Calmeyer

/ Carmen McKnight / Leave a comment

Today Pastor Gordon Calmeyer passed away after a life well lived. I love his wife’s words, Stella, on Facebook, and I’ll add them here:

“Choose to make today count.

Even if we find ourselves in unpleasant places or going through tough or hard times, or even if we feel like we could give up because of trying circumstances, let’s use the power of choice which we all have at our disposal, and choose to benefit from bad times and allow them to cause spiritual growth and development. Let us wait for the Lord, staying strong and allowing our hearts to be filled with courage so that we will finish the race strong! (Psalm 27: 13-14) Have a blessed weekend everyone!”

Beautiful.

Chet and I met both Stella and Gordon during our volunteering times at CFC (Christian Faith Center Church) and right away we were taken (like everyone else) with Stella’s sweet personality, and pastor Gordon’t charismatic personality, warmth, and vulnerability. Their short time at CFC as pastors were full of richness and they walked away loving and being loved.

Both Chet and I will miss him because he touched our lives with love and authenticity. I ache because he died, but I’m grateful that I had the privilege to know both him and his wife, I’m richer because of that. His good humor and love for life will be missed. It only hurts because we loved, we’ll never regret loving.

I’m sorry to hear about the suicides of both Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain, condolences to their family and loved ones, it’s hard when departure from this life happens in such a state of despair and sadness. I’m truly sorry for that. If anyone reading this blog is suffering from depression, please reach out to someone and ask for help. You’re welcome to reach out to me anytime you want.

Thank you, God, for all people from all walks of life. Being human is beautiful and precious.

God Bless.IMG_1318

 

Life is good

/ Carmen McKnight / Leave a comment

Life is good.

Last weekend Chet and I had an argument. Gasp. What? You guys fight and argue too? Yep, we sure do:) We’re both red-blooded people with strong opinions and the need to make our points shine brightly. Through our 25 years of marriage, (wow those years went by fast with a touch of slow) we’ve learned how to fight (I’m sure the 70-year-old me is laughing hard at such a bold statement, thinking “you fool”).

It began, like everything new and glorious usually does, with the usual super passionate arguments over the most nonsensical of stuff, made up by lots of fun spelled s-e-x. Since our marriage had a meeting of two cultures with a healthy dose of language barriers (meaning we could not talk to each other), our nonsensical stuff multiplied exponentially;) Now, if the older me could’ve beamed back in time and had a talk with the younger me, I’m sure the younger me would’ve beaten her up first then maybe paid partial attention to what she had to say. Don’t sweat the small stuff- fantastic advice! Yes, he thinks you’re beautiful, no your butt is not bigger than usual, you’re boobs are perfect and what are we fighting about?

Next phase is called “the exhaustive faze”. This phase arrives, oddly enough, with the presence of babies, and lasts way too long. Through this phase, you fight mostly by mumbling and eye rolling since you’re too exhausted to come up with smart alec remarks, not after you’ve been sleep deprived for millions of seconds, you can’t seem to walk in straight lines some days, you have vomit and dried food tattooed all over your clothes and haven’t worn a sexy dress in decades, partly because you no longer fit in one or you don’t see the point in wearing anything that would end up with sex, mostly because you’re too exhaused for such rigurous workout. Now is not the time to ask: How do I look, honey? He still loves you with the extra this, that, and the other, what will turn him away is your whining or showiung his disrespect. Find a good girlfriend and let it all out remembering that afterwords is her turn. Here’s when you would love the old you to come and give you advise, but she’s too bruised from the earlier phase and missing in action.

Next phase is the “teenage trial phase”, a phase you spend most days on the accused bench while all your faults are thrown in your face with the passion of a volcano that just erupted and does not show signs of slowing down. Here you spend many days praying the trial will end soon and no permanent damage was done in the process. This is a phase where you could very well lose your marbles, as you’re facing your accuser (in the case of multiple accusers, God help you! we’re praying for you), and you get so fatigued from all the explanations you’ve come up with, that you don’t have time to argue with your spouse and he/she either becomes your best friend (in our case) or your worst enemy.

The phase we’re now in, title-wise it’s still up for grabs, due to disease and a near-death-experience, there’s hardly any issues that come up worth enough to argue over. Life comes into prospective and priorities are re-aligned into a much healthier pattern, also there’s the partial short-term-memory-loss which helps:))))) Or the low energy level. Chet and I spend lots of time enjoying each other now, we choose both our friends and battles wisely and let life be lived in the moment. However, now and again tentions arise and even though our arguments are rare, not dramatic like before, more philosophical while trying to emprove our communciation sklills, they do end up teaching us something (because we let). Like the argument we had last week. I’ve learned that Chet’s expressed  frustration everytime he drives and encounters bad roads, construction and bad drivers, is not directed at me even if his words come across as so.

“Why is this road closed? Why is that car cutting us off? Why is he crossing the road on a red light?” My defensive attitude comes from waaaay back, from a time of childhood dramas and traumas when I was made to believe that everything bad in this world was my fault even if I had nothing to do with it. Once I realized the connection, and mourned for a few minutes all the years of stress I could’ve eliminated out of my life if this lesson came to me sooner, things were explained accordingly. Chet can express all his frustrations freely, only slightly redirected:

“That guy’s a bad driver!” Here’s where I come in and cheer him on “You’re right, he really is a bad driver.”

I’m not sure about the next phase since we’re not there yet but it will be better, because with every phase we’ve accumulated data and enough information to graduate with a doctorate degree. I’m sure most of you have graduated with excellent degrees and have lots of experience:) Have a great day today and remember when you argue next, the degree is coming:)

Gid Bless:)

 

 

 

Prayers for the Pelvic Area

/ Carmen McKnight / Leave a comment

The pelvic area stores lots of emotions, here’s where we experience sexual intimacy, new life, here’s where elimination of no longer needed elements in the body happens, the process of filtration and hormonal activity.

Father God, I ask for complete pelvic healing in my body and everyone else suffering from pelvic related illnesses, diseases, and emotional traumatic trapped memories. I pray full relief in the hearts of raped or sexually molested people, hormonal imbalance issues, inflammation, ovarian issues, bowel problems, genital damages, colon and kidney issues, urinary bladder issue, uterus health let us learn how to filter out of our souls and bodies damaging pain, let our body re-adjust to the proper health as we let go of what once was, but no longer is. Let us see the past hurts no longer delegating our present functionality. For those who lost certain body parts (ovaries, uterus, genitals, colon, rectum, kidneys) we pray that any grieving they’re going through over the missing parts is heard by you and that healing takes over and a new outlook is built.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

God Bless:)

All inclusive

/ Carmen McKnight / 3 Comments

Why the “all inclusive” American political motto does not work for me (unless its a vacation package:).

I grew up in the Eastern European communism era back in the 80′ and early 90′, and have been discriminated against quite vehemently because of my religious beliefs and gender. Coming to America in 1993 was an eye-opening experience on multiple levels. While I loved the idea of being accepted in the new country and among the Americans, I soon learned about this country’s inner prejudices and was shocked. That taught me one thing- prejudice is not a country issue is a human issue. Conforming to American rules and culture it seemed a sensible expectation and I had no issue with it. Why would I? If I didn’t like it all I had to do is go back home, to my own country. It’s not easy to change and conform, it takes time and patience. To this day any reminder of my own culture is a welcoming sight and I am very glad I have friends and family living in America. Being a Christian I attended church right away. While the white church (the only church I attended) failed miserably to love the gay, prostitutes, homeless, black people (not all churches), or anyone else who was different than they were, the church still reached out and took part in many charitable acts of kindness, which impressed me. Sure it was far from perfect, but it was trying.

Moving to the Seattle area, where left thinking predominates and church attendance is at its lowest I’ve learned, and still am learning, many things. The opportunities here are far greater than back south where we used to live, the people are more open-minded… or are they? I find the same close-mindedness towards anyone that thinks differently than they are, especially politically, just like back in the south (Auburn area). The political agendas differ and an “all-inclusive” thinking, which at first sight seems wonderful, is wrapped in a false facade of acceptance. Violence can rise easily if you don’t agree with them, but mostly you’re going to get a passive-aggressive form of action and I find myself walking on eggshells around here because of the frail emotional status of spoiled people that have been babied by their parents far too much. The vibe is of a very narrow-minded individualistic liberal views, which completely contradict the enlightened stigma they give themselves. If you read this and you find yourself getting offended you must ask yourself why? I do the same when I get offended. Don’t get me wrong there’s a lot of nice people here, just don’t get political or religious and all is well.

Why “all-inclusive” move does not work for me? The school system, that’s why. I remember back in my school days being ridiculed and made fun of for being a Christian something oddly I got used to after a while and built an inner determination within, I remember the Jehovah witnesses’s kids always put in the back of the class and made to stand up for hours as a sign of shame, my brother Alin beaten by a teacher until blood poured out of his skin, the same brother locked in dark closets during his kindergarten time for hours at the time, teacher bursting into our apartment without knocking demanding this and that, to give you a couple examples. This was abuse accepted and enforced at the hands of a corrupt and hateful system and its happening here as well. Here, where people take pride in being enlightened and more moral than the nazi or the communists were, yet using similar bullying strategies. One of those strategies is sneaking perversive explicit sexual curriculum in the schools while keeping parents intentionally uninformed. This begins in kindergarten. I’m part of a book club here and I heard with my own ears the proud grandparents sharing with us about the sexual details the teachers talked to the kids in regard to reproductive organs (they put it more explicitly), sexual orientation, and other details. Tell me what is the difference in the brainwashing mechanism between talking faith in schools or this gross stuff? Why would a kindergartener whose main focus in those years is to play need to know about his and other’s sexual parts in such details that could damage them the same way a rapist would? As a parent I have the responsibility to teach my child, when I see fit, about any and all sexual education, the schools have the responsibility of teaching academics. From a medical point of view, this is a form of abuse towards the young minds.

Isn’t this a form of exclusivity thinking, Carmen? you would ask and I would say, this is a form or allowing the individual to choose. The all-inclusive nonsense is a very familiar communistic move, where individual thinking was a threat to the system. In all my 18 years of schooling in a communistic system, I have NEVER accounted the sexual filth the school system pushes nowadays in America (which is strategically placed in there and funded by certain organizations with a certain goal in mind, that research I leave it up to you.) If you think democracy and freedom of speech in this country today is not assaulted you’re gravely mistaken.

Black people should not have to fear for their lives. Only criminals of all colors and nationalities should.

Women should not fear to be abused and ignored. (The extreme feminism is going too far.)

Babies should not be killed. (Adoption facilities should be put in place and education made available.)

Education should be available for all who want to educate themselves.

The law of the land should be respected by anyone who enters this country.

Homeless should be taken care by us.

Mentally ill should be helped (mostly by exposing the Pharmaceutical industry for the lord drugs they are. )

I remember back when my kids began their schooling years and the subject of feelings was pushed more than academics. Well…feelings are an important part, not the most important, however. Why? they constantly change. One day I may feel a certain way only to change my mind in the next minute. Can I build a lasting…anything on such an unstable foundation? And for crying out loud feed our children the best of foods in the school lunch! We parents do care!

I woke up on the wrong side of the planet today and I looked around thinking: My God, how did I get here!

God Bless:)

May 5th-Saturday-2018

/ Carmen McKnight / Leave a comment

Draw your own conclusion after reading this accurate story that took place this year, in Romania, on the outskirts open land of Timisoara city, where one of my brothers wasn’t only witnessing this event but participated in helping this young man.

Saturday, May 5th, 2018, a Bible study group of young couples were celebrating, picnic style, an outing, one of my brother and his family among them. The location, unlike their usual one, was new, a wilderness sort of place. Once everyone arrived, blankets were laid down on the grass filled soon with food. As they enjoyed each other’s company, my brother, and a few others noticed a young man in his early twenties, running at an incredibly fast speed, bare-foot. The speed with which this man ran back and forth was unnervingly fast for any human being. Eventually, the young man approached the group and asked them for something to eat. He received two bananas and one apple which he devoured quickly away from the group. He then returned again asking for more food, receiving a big plate filled with all sorts of B-B-qued meat and such which he ate, this time in the group’s company.

‘What is your name?’ Someone asked.

‘Daniel.’

‘How old are you, Daniel?’

’21’

‘Where do you leave?’

‘In my father’s barn, in the village nearby, but I spend most of my time outdoors in these hills. The villagers don’t want me around because I scare them and the kids.’ The young man was pleasant, polite and intelligent and all seemed well until he mentioned;

‘I have to leave now, the sickness is coming.’ Unsure of what exactly he was referring to the group protested, encouraging him to stay and visit with them longer, which he did, when suddenly he fell to the ground in a seizure spasm, foaming at the mouth, shaking violently and making odd sounds. The men quickly got up and formed a protective fence between Daniel and their families, encouraging the women and children to back off a few meters.

‘Let’s pray for him.’ My brother spoke up and a few men agreed. All but 6 to 8 men stayed close to Daniel. By now the rest of the group was at a safe distance away watching the small group of men surrounding Daniel reached their hands forward towards Daniel praying, my brother being one of them. He then heard Daniel making sounds no man could make, sounds closer to those of a cornered angry animal while his body bent in an unnatural upside-down frown. Daniel began eating grass, or covering his ears with his palms as the men continued to pray, climbing up a tall tree trunk nearby like a monkey, with the speed of an animal trained to climb trees making it all the way to the top. There were no branches available for the most part of his climb to help him and everyone had one unified wonder “how did he do that?” The men kept on praying, using Jesus’s name to free Daniel of whatever dark spirit who clearly possessed this young boy’s body, watching as he climbed down with the same speed, making sounds that would make anybody’s hair stand up straight on their back. Daniel then jumped straight up, again too high for any human abilities and landed on his back hard against a tree stump. There were far more such details I don’t seem to recollect at the moment from our phone conversation but eventually, Daniel relaxed and came to his senses, looking around as if looking for someone in particular.

“I don’t see the priestess dressed in black with her split tongue anymore.” He explained happily, followed by “My head no longer hurts, only my back a little.” His back pain was a result of him being dropped on the tree trunk earlier.

“I’m so happy you guys came here, I feel so happy with you guys,” Daniel spoke with the most sane and pleasant expression on his face, as everyone watched him still trying to grasp the details they all saw and heard, thanking God in the end for such a positive result.

‘It’s God who helped you Daniel, not us.” Someone spoke.

“Yes, thank you, God!” Soon Daniel relaid how at one point earlier in his life he got baptized but walked way from God, confessing, “What’s inside me…only through prayer and fasting can be eliminated.”

“You should join the local church and return to God.” My brother spoke looking into the same eyes of a young man who only a few minutes ago had the look of madness. Even though the picnic atmosphere was disrupted and now a wave of tension one feels when witnessing such encounters lingered in everyone, they all agreed that the unusual wilderness they all ended up choosing was intentionally picked by God himself to save this young man’s soul and life.

I’m sure some of you are encouraged by this story, while others may be frightened and full of all sorts of explanations, but this really happened not even two full weeks ago and I heard it from my brother’s own mouth in a recent phone conversation, just last week. I for one am encouraged, even though a bit uneasy by the details.

God Bless:)

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Daniel, after the prayer, free of the dark spirit and happy.

 

Broken no more.

/ Carmen McKnight / Leave a comment

We all experience brokenness in ways familiar, unfamiliar and downright surprising, and most of us tend to feel shame when the scars of such an experience start to mark us.

I remember, about six or seven years ago now, one late evening I got a phone call from my siblings back home announcing me that our mother was ill and in the hospital. I was in bed already finishing a Bible study homework due the next morning at the women’s Bible study I used to attend for many years. But as I ended the conversation and began praying, my words were caught mid-sentence, never finishing my prayer because I began to see something God wanted me to see- a reassurance I’ll never forget.

I saw my mother with the help of this vision and I went inside her body and traveled like a small speck of dust within her circulatory system all throughout her body, seeing shadows in places representing illness and a normal light where health existed. In a blink of an eye, a liquid light brilliant like gold and diamond wrapped in thousands of acres of sparkles began moving quickly through her veins, her tissues, ner nervous system and as I watched a whisper spoke: She’ll be alright, don’t worry, the light will cure her. Then it was over and I never worried about her outcome knowing full well she would be fine.

When broken, the light of God moves within you eager to fill the holes and the cracks, creating a piece of art unexpectedly more different than your pre-conceived notions ever expected. If you take an honest look at it, you’ll allow yourself to see the same beauty God’s sees, it may look very different than your pre-conceived notion of beautiful, perfect, put together, normal, secure etc but it does not mean it’s any less radiant… if you just look you may just see its brilliance, and that’s when you’ll be able to really smile with a smile of pure joy and tell yourself…broken no more.

God Bless:)

Introverts and Extroverts

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My orchard (my resting place) had a simple wood bench under one tree, and I sat there waiting for God today. He came and looked exactly like the religious images I’ve seen through the years have portrayed him: a young man with a long beard and hair dressed in a long gray rope. He reached out and took my hand. We both got up and before taking one step further he changed into an identical version of myself when I was ten years of age. I was suddenly ten years old as well. Hand in hand we skipped and laughed with the purest touches of laughter and the richest form of happiness.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Why do we need to go somewhere in order to be?” And he/she reminded me of something I once knew: as a child, you go nowhere but you are.  And that’s where happiness, contentment, love in its purest of forms, acceptance of everyone, embracing the new, trusting, eagerness to learn and explore, ability to change mind and will if necessary, lives.

Its as if somewhere is an extrovert rushing on the road to nowhere, passing by be millions of times, blind to the importance of stopping and having a relationship together. Soon the rushing shallows, emties, frustrates, closes somewhere’s mind, making it rigid. Every time somewhere passes an opportunity to be, loses a potential for growth until its very essence is dipleated of health and sickness of the mind, soul and spirit settle.

Be, on the other hand, has time to live, to think, to love and to express the importance of many things. Be slows time down and listens, but needs somewhere once it knows its purpuse. Be is an introvert.

Be and somewhere are better together than apart, and our western culture glorifies somewhere while marginalizing be. It’s a big imbalance which leads to all sorts of pain and loss. They’re equally important.

For those who read this and are a bit uncomfortable with the phrasing (may seem new-age to you), God wants you to be at ease and gives you evidence in the Bible for what I’ve written above.

Psalm 46:10; Exodus 14:14; Psalm 62:5; Proverbs 8:34; Luke 24:2; these are only a few of the many Bible verses that go along to what he showed me. I understand its a new point of approach but we both know God speaks in many ways to all of us. That’s the beauty of it all.

God Bless:)

The Resting Place of Your Soul

/ Carmen McKnight / 2 Comments
“You who want peace can find it only by complete forgiveness.” Helen Schucman, A Course in Miracles
Miracles   |   

“Peace cannot be achieved through violence; it can only be attained through understanding.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
Inspirational Quotes   |   

“The freest people in the world are those who have senses of inner peace about themselves: They simply refuse to be swayed by the whims of others, and are quietly effective at running their own lives.” Wayne Dyer,

In front of me stood a memory of long ago- an orchard- and in the inner quietness of my still body and mind, I began to tear up. The trees were past the blooming season, and its fruits, far to early to eat, were a great promise of what was to come. The orchard belonged to a female classmate’s parents, back in Romania, and at the tender age of thirteen, I had no idea this image would come back to me years later to teach me a lesson, a good lesson.

“What does it mean, God?”

“What does it mean to you, Carmen?” So I thought some more, this time letting my heart speak to me.

“Resting point. But why am I crying from a memory so very beautiful?”

“Because of its significance.”

“Which is?”

The silence meant I had to figure that one out.

“Rest.”

“And do you have it?”

“Mostly, I do.”

“Today?”

“No, not today.”

There are some inner changes happening in my soul, good changes, but as most of you know change brings along a certain mix of emotions, none need to be frightening.

I’ve never denied my love for God, but I’ve denied church and religion, especially lately. After all, I met people in church willing to hurt me and my family, some in the name of God, most in the name of self-satisfaction and egotistical needs. I’m sure you have met some yourself. But I wonder how many times I too was placed in those categories by another? But this is a subject for another post, another day.

My need, a healthy one, to form relationships with people and attend a church comes from a want to heal. Isolation, even from a medical point of view and scientifical evidence is not healthy. I’ve had a fantastic support group when I was too weak to go anywhere but now that I can, I want to find a church and hopefully grow in a healthy way, not a religious way.

I’ve prayed and meditated, I’ve listened to a sermon done by Rick Warren called “the Battle of the Mind” and a podcast called “You Listen to you” by Rob Bell (considered by some religious folks a heathen). To me, Rob Bell is a very intelligent human being with some amazing answers or explanations to some of the questions I’ve carried in my heart for many years.

Two styles of thinking and speaking: the first one, although intelligently put, left a trace of guilt (not conviction) behind, the second one left a trace of hope and goodwill. First one spoke in the familiar language of the church the second one in a new and upcoming style. I got some answers to the inner struggle but not a complete picture and I’m fine with that. It’s my search, thus my effort.

But back to the orchard; to me signifies peace and rest, a season I had to be in these past four years in order to heal, but in this season I’ve learned more than any season of health and busyness taught me, and I do confirm: we can hear God better in the stillness of self, in the intimacy of time, space, and effort.

What is your resting place? I don’t like telling people what to do, I figure everyone already knows what they want to do and their actions prove it, but as a gentle advise I can tell you one thing that seems to be valuable; we all need a resting place and we all need to visit this place often.

I’ve been able to forgive (and mean it) my parents finally, after 40 years of struggle and pain and I’m at peace. I trust God more than ever now, for that, I’m at peace. I’m very thankful for my life, for that I’m at peace. Don’t confuse temporary irritations and frustrations that come and go from living this life, I go through them, I feel them fully, I react to them, but I forgive and move on because I want to be healthy.

I sincerely want you to be at peace in the midsts of your life, even if it’s not functioning as you dreamed of, hoped for or envisioned it would. May God’s peace be upon you and your family, within you and your family and all around you like a healing oitment.

God Bless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For you

/ Carmen McKnight / Leave a comment

Not sure who needs to read these words, but here I go.

For the one that’s hurting, with tears of sorrow and discouragement running down your face and heart, from yet another blow life just hit you with:

Picture the outcome you want and in due time it will come to pass. The road will not be void of pain, struggles, and failures, but it will not be void of success, victory, and hope either. You must fight for the outcome you’re picturing and never doubt you’re not strong enough:)

God Bless:)

 

Protest

/ Carmen McKnight / Leave a comment

Last weekend the annual women’s protest happened again and besides hatred towards the current president and the right to abort an unborn baby, I’m not quite sure what else are they protesting for, because the last time I checked we still lived in America where women have far more rights than most women combined in other parts of this world.

Personally, the vaginal hats and F*** signs are extremely insulting to me, but don’t worry that does not define me as a woman; my children do, my husband does and other things that have nothing to do with profanity and genital hats.

I’ll tell you a story- my story.

I was born with few health issues.

For one thing, my reproductive organs did not fall into place as they should’ve and my mother was told I would not be able to have children.

My Fontanella (the soft spot between the parietal bones and frontal bone) was bulged out- the doctor said I was going to be a retard or an idiot, in other words neurologically I was going to be slower than the norm. The Fontanella it looked and felt like jello and my mother hardly touched me for the first few months after birth for fear of hurting me further. So I lacked the bonding time, very important and necessary to a healthy development, but life was different back then and information was lacking.

I also had a severe vitamin D deficiency and I began having regular shots of vitamin D right away that lasted a whole year. These were among the issues that were visible right away and the doctor pressured my mother to have me aborted after I was born, worried that my quality of life would be a burden to the medical system and Marxist society in which I was born. I was a defect product and needed to be discarded so I would not become a useless eater. My mother vehemently refused.

“God’s will be done.” She tolled herself accepting the outcome, but if I wasn’t going to recover I was in danger of a “vaccine shot” that was nothing short of a euthanize method. I did recover.

At home, I grew up in pretty harsh poverty, mostly between the age of 5-19. We went many days in “involuntarily fasting” whether we liked it or not, but for that now some of us are rounder than we’d like to be:) God, yes God, took care of us. That is what I choose to believe, despite the skepticism of others.

We also went through physical and emotional trauma, abuse and at times torture methods until the day each and every one of us left home. Emotionally, if we give way the emotional abuse would continue to this very moment, but all of us have chosen peace, so we have departed from the source of the abuse.

So from many people’s modern standards of today, I should’ve been aborted. After all I had too many physical issues putting a burden on the family or society, I was born in extreme poverty (Eastern Europe poverty), and raised in a very abusive family environment. I fit most of the reasons given for an abortion, right?

Yet, I’m thankful for every day on this earth despite its hardships. I thank God every day for his love towards me shown mostly through other people, some of which are reading these words. We see the goodness in others. We see hate in others as well. So choose. I’ve chosen. I stand for life.

I do not judge anyone who had an abortion- I wasn’t in your shoes when you made the decision and it’s not my place to judge what I don’t know. But I do know the fetus is a living being and I’ve always fought for the underdog. Its just part of my character and I will continue to do so.

God Bless.