Dear Me: The Americas & Horror

This is part of a series of letters in which I write to my future self:

November 2019

Dear forthcoming me,

The subject I would like you to remember is nothing short of horrifying.  Years ago when you were a child you were taught about the history of the Americas and the culture of tribes such as the Aztecs.  Do you remember how your stomach turned and life suddenly felt several shades darker upon learning of their practice of human sacrifice and specifically child sacrifice?  I cannot at the moment remember a more sickening feeling and I never want you to forget it. I never want you to expect such evil. History tells us that they did it for reasons such as appeasing their idol Tlaloc.  They thought he used the tears of their young ones to wet the earth and water their crops. In their pursuit of prosperity they trampled their little ones; breaking the two greatest commandments. They did not love the One true God and they did not love their neighbors as themselves.  Instead, fear of a false god and love for self and prosperity bore the bloody fruit of massacring those closest to them.

Do you remember being completely at a loss for how mankind could put up with and voluntarily perform such things, making it part of “normal” life to end life?  You momentarily felt relief that their society no longer existed but that thankfulness was cut short just like the lives of their little ones. No you didn’t live in an ancient idol worshiping society, you lived in the “free” United States of America.  The America who daily tears in pieces innocent life in an attempt to hold dreams of the future together. The America who has put the ancient Americas to shame with the vast number of child sacrifices it daily offers up to idols such as education, economy, convenience, reputation and fear.  Prosperity is still trying to be reached by climbing the corpses of babies. 

We humans have ways of cloaking our evil in robes of supposed righteousness: women’s health, choice, equality… these are just whitewash on the outside of a gas chamber.  When a tree falls in the forest it does make a sound and when life is terminated in a womb it is murder. Our land may be attempting to hide and “sanitize” this holocaust behind clinic doors but we must open those doors, we must walk through our “extermination camps” and see what is being done on our watch. We must look and then we must act.  Love is a verb and the women and girls marching to these slaughter houses and the little ones they are carrying need you to be a verb on their behalf. 

Do you remember at another point in your childhood when you learned that this industry of death was closer to home than you realized.  Tears streaked your face when you learned of the loss of a dear little one you would have grown up around. He is a precious little boy who you asked God if you could name Michael.  You mourned not over tissue but over a person, one who will eternally bear the image of God though the devil attempted to erase it. You mourned because his mother had been lied to and told it was for her good and her baby’s good.  It was not, it was evil, and she was given nothing but an empty womb and a lifetime of guilt. Keep praying that God will open her eyes, that she will see that though she believed the lies and cooperated with the murder of her little one that even that can be forgiven, wiped away from the record of her life. That if she trusts in Jesus, God’s Son, He will bear her guilt for her.  Pray that those who advised and encouraged her will see their guilt and then see the Way of escape. The punishment for murder is life for life and that is exactly the punishment Jesus took so that anyone who repents, including murderers, can have their death sentence placed on Him. It can be forgiven. 

I cannot imagine the pain and darkness his mother has held all these years but keep praying for her.  Maybe one day her eyes will be opened and the mercy of Christ will flood her soul. Maybe one day you will be able to dance with her and Michael on the streets of gold rejoicing together in the goodness and mercy of God.  And keep praying that this holocaust will end. Maybe one day America will stop this slaughter. Maybe there will be a revival in this land and God’s mercy will be poured out on the women who have had babies ripped out of them and on those who have ripped babies out of women.  Maybe Christ’s blood will wash away the blood on our hands. The blood sucked down plastic tubes, wiped up with cotton towels, rinsed off shower floors and flushed down bathroom drains. It is crying out for justice and God will not leave it unpunished. You must remember that.  For everyone, either Jesus has bourn their guilt or they will bear it eternally. In Jesus it can all be forgiven. Remember, pray and act. 

 

Your bygone you

 

One thought on “Dear Me: The Americas & Horror

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s