Dear Quinton,
We will probably never know why your mother decided that her drug habit was more important than you. We will probably never truly know why your mother could look into your precious little smiling face, beat you to death, throw your tiny body in a dumpster, and then go out with her mother and do shots at a local bar. We hang our heads that your remains were found in a landfill, and no one in your family seemed willing to turn the world upside down to find you.
Your smile reminds me of my grandson when he was your age, happy and full of life. And I am so very sorry that the people who you trusted to raise you and love you felt that their needs — no, make that their wants — chose themselves over you. There was so much life in your little face. So much potential. I and countless others mourn your passing.
We also mourn the passing of so many other precious lives in places like Chicago, New York, and across the world. Little souls of all nationalities and colors who were so full of potential and who left this world far too soon. Little souls who just wanted to laugh, and play and grow, whose bodies are in the ground.
I mourn you, Quinton, and I mourn them, yet I seek some comfort in the fact that you will not have to come of age in such an awful, selfish, degraded world. I tell myself that you are in loving arms and that you are at peace and protected now. And pray that is so.
Dear Quinton, sleep in heavenly peace.
That has been on my mind for a while now, ever since that story first broke. Sadly, the fact that Quinton’s life was disposable is nothing new. And yes, the tragedy includes children of color. Please do not go there with me. Your rant will only serve to prove my point that all Americans care about anymore are themselves All lives truly do matter, except it seems in a society that has become so narcissistic that the idea of personal sacrifice or caring more about someone else than oneself has become secular heresy.
But we do throw away life in 21st-century America. Not just the lives of those around us, but our own. A moment of attention on the internet. A round of applause at a drag show. A young person prostituting themselves on an Instagram post. Or on OnlyFans. Or someone who shills for likes by gyrating on TikTok. Are we surprised that hordes of young people, often young women, become completely unhinged at the idea that someone would not want to abort an unborn child? We are the people of the moment. And we demand that no one hold us accountable, but rather that the world celebrate our decisions, no matter the potential for damage.
After all, what parent would value their egos and social status so highly, and their children so little, as to take them to this “all ages” Drag Queen Christmas in Austin, Texas?
Parents who care nothing for their children’s minds or souls and who want to boost their self-esteem. That is who. People who are obsessed with trends. People who want social street cred as they sashay from Starbucks to their Lexus SUV on their way to their hot yoga class. Their children are more accessories than people.
Joshua 24:15 says, “Choose this day whom you will serve.” The Left would have you believe that this phrase means devoting oneself to an outdated religion, which only serves to prove that the Left lacks the ability to avail itself of exegesis. The idea of submitting oneself to religion is a product of the Left’s proclivity to read only that which proves its prejudices and betrays its fear of wrestling with ideas. And so, by choosing its stomach, or perhaps its genitalia, the Left wallows in debasement and indulgence and vilifies anyone who may dare to suggest that we seek higher ground. And such ideas are not easily contained and are never subjected to context.
And the concept of a behavioral free-for-all is ultimately what killed little Quinton and scores of children like him. The concept of seeking something greater is foreign to the Left. It is an inconvenience at best and a crime at worst. The Left cannot understand when others choose not to get on all fours and lick the gutter. And therefore, those who decide to remain on two legs and not let their passions run away with them must be vilified and ostracized. The comparison is too much for the Left to bear. To serve requires sacrifice, but it also keeps you out of the gutter.
The media, social and otherwise, and to a certain degree our government, would have you believe that you are nothing more than a collection of synapses bundled in meat. And it was perhaps with that mindset that Leilani Simon chose to kill her son. As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “You were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” Simon chose to honor nothing.
We glorify indulgence. We promote it. And while our churches are full of people who would happily babble that they are sinners, they probably could not name a single one of their sins. Contrition has been replaced with endorphins. I remember in a church I attended some time ago that the men in the jail ministry would berate me for reporting on arrests and court cases because they visited the criminals in jail. They knew the real people. I was only making life harder for the violators and was not nearly as kind as the people in that ministry. Again, the endorphin rush trumped the call to repentance. And there can be no salvation without repentance.
But as it turns out, faith is hard. Like Jacob-turned-Israel, it requires wrestling, most often with oneself.
What we do at PJ Media is not easy. But we do it for Quinton and thousands like him. Last week, I went to my granddaughter’s Christmas concert at her school. She is nine. I watched her sing and dance and beamed when she came running up to me to hug me after the show was over. She is smart, funny, creative, always wants to make friends, and enjoys meeting everyone. She loves her cat, her scooter, and her Calico Critters. She wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up so she can help animals.
She was also born with a condition called Tetralogy of Fallot, which is essentially four heart conditions wrapped up in one. She will need a new heart valve next year. There are those on the Left who would deny her that surgery. There are those on the Left who would have seen her murdered in the womb. There are those on the Left who would see her murdered for the color of her skin alone.
She is why I fight. I fight for her and every Quinton Simon, as well as every unknown child who never got the chance to grow up. For everyone who has been victimized and compromised, perverted and shunted aside. You must find your “why.” For every college protestor, for every man or woman who robs a child of their innocence, for every grinning monster clad in black burning down buildings, looting and beating people at random, there must be one of you.
Why? For all my religious education, for all the preaching I have done and the time I have spent reading Scripture, even I at times wonder why God has not thundered, “Enough is enough!” Particularly at this time of the year. But the day will come when everyone, Republican, Democrat, Jew, Christian, Muslim, pagan, atheist, ANTIFA, BLM, Proud Boy, Trump Supporter, Never Trumper, abortion enthusiast, pro-lifer, and even Joe Biden will stand before God and answer the question: “What did you do with the time I gave you?” You are formulating your answer now.
When I was a hospital chaplain intern, I was frequently called in at all hours for overdoses, suicides, for people who were hospitalized for car wrecks, domestic violence cases or, God forbid, a SIDS death. And after a particularly brutal night, I would go up to the OB-GYN unit and look at the new babies through the glass. Somehow, it gave me hope. It renewed and refreshed me. This was of course before I was a parent or grandparent. But those few minutes and tiny faces gave me the “why” I needed to get up the next morning and do it all again.
We will never conquer evil in this world. But that does not mean that we must bow to it.
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