The Little Girl

This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live~ Deuteronomy 30:19

Last week Pope Francis shed his image as the hip, happening Pope when he came out with a bold, rabble-rousing declaration condemning recreational drug legalization. Pope Francis could not have been more unequivocal in his condemnation of drug legalization. His message stated in part…

“The problem of drug use is not solved with more drugs.”

He went on to clarify…

“Drug addiction is an evil, and with evil there can be no yielding or compromise. To think that harm can be reduced by permitting drug addicts to use narcotics in no way resolves the problem.”

The blogosphere went wild with disapproval over the Pope’s archaic notions. The haters were out in full force, overjoyed to have an occasion to bash the Pope, organized religion, and anyone ridiculous enough to believe in God. There were some weary attempts at defending the use of marijuana made by pointing out that alcohol is legal and widely used (I for one fail to see how one is connected to the other).

Then there were the gloomy souls who seemed sincerely baffled that a Christian leader who appears to be as left-leaning and cool as Pope Francis could be opposed to recreational drug use. But by far the most common sentiment asserted by those who hope to legalize drugs was the tired line that has rapidly become the rallying cry of a civilization that is rotting from within:

“People should be able to do whatever they want with their own bodies!”

As I read page after page of comments extolling the virtues of personal sovereignty and unlimited freedom, I couldn’t help but think of the little girl who lives upstairs in the room that used to be my office.

 She’s a precious little thing with long, dark blonde hair that is nearly impossible to keep tidy, wonderfully expressive hazel eyes, and a mischievous smile. She adores animals and is currently campaigning hard for a hamster that she intends to name Sir Edward Fluff Ball. She loves to swim in the pool and likes craft projects. Like many girls her age, her favorite color changes almost daily.

She is the daughter of a relative, the offspring of two nice people who sincerely believed that they had the right to do whatever they wanted with their own bodies.  A few years ago her Mom died from the choices she made with her own body. Her Dad is unable to care for his daughter due to the choices he is presently making with his own body.

Moving in with us was tough on her in the beginning, but she is becoming a bit more comfortable in our home all the time. Although they are much older, she enjoys hanging out with our kids. She and my husband share a love of the silly and absurd that is bringing them together. She and I have connected over decorating her room and a mutual love of stories. Her growing bond with our family does not keep her from crying sometimes because she misses her Mom and yearns to live with her Dad.

She is a bright and imaginative girl, reads above grade level and performs well in school. Unfortunately, she struggles more than most kids her age with impulse-control issues, remembering things and telling time. On nights when sleep evades me I worry that her difficulties are more than childish immaturity. My gut tells me her problems may very well be the outcome of choices her Mother made with her own body while she was pregnant.

Sadly her story is far from unique. There are millions of little girls and boys just like her. Children who are the human fallout of arrogant choices their parents have made with their own bodies. Children who are plagued by nightmares, children who struggle to connect with their peers, children who long for an ordinary life with their biological parents. Children who cry themselves to sleep at night.

 The vast majority of those children do not have the advantages she has. Most are not as naturally bright as she is. Nor do they have extended families that are able and willing to pick up the slack for parents who are busy making choices that prevent them from parenting their children properly.

Those unfortunate children are fated to become cogs in the wheel of an apathetic, overburdened public system, a system that is lacking the human element necessary to help children mature to adulthood in a healthy way. A system we all pay for.

 Sadly, societies reap what they sow as surely as individuals do. I fear the harvest we will reap in the coming years with these kids, as we loudly and arrogantly demand the right to do whatever we want with our own bodies.

In an ideal world, we would not need rules to govern what individuals can and can’t do with their own bodies. In an ideal world, every man and woman would make unselfish, intelligent and rational choices with their own bodies. In an ideal world all people would agree that an individual’s right to make choices should end at the place where those choices begin to negatively affect others. In an ideal world, there would not be any children like the little girl who lives upstairs in the room that used to be my office.

I will walk about in freedom, for I have sought out your precepts~ Psalm 119:45