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Protect Our Children

A Childless Father Who Has a Son



Protect Our Children

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Are any of you readers old enough to remember 30 years ago or so?
Palistinian terrorists were attacking Israeli grade schools, killing teachers and children. The Israelis did not pass gun-control laws, they armed their teachers and other school employees and made certain that they could use their weapons. The attacks stopped. When is the last time you have heard of an Israeli school being attacked? Since arming teachers and other school staff, even suicide bombers do not enter Israeli schools. Not even suicide bombers!!
Ciminals and terrorists will always be armed. If you do not believe that, then please check all of the Countries of the world that have oppresive gun control laws.
It is despicable that Mr. Obama and the Democratic Party are using the bodies of the teachers and the poor, lovely children of Newtown as soap boxes to stand on and shout for more laws against the freedoms of honest American citizens. Why are the Democrats, lead by Mr. Obama, trying to dis-arm the honest citizens of our Country? Why do they refuse to let our teachers be prepared to defend themselves and our school children? Why must our teachers try to protect our children by serving themselves up for slaughter? The people who commit these crimes always attack the places where they KNOW that they will meet no resistance; grade schools, colleges and theaters. How often do you hear of read attacks on American Police stations or shooting ranges. I doubt if any other news outlets or commentators will answer, nor even speak of any of these questions. But please, think about them and what is the only way to really protect our schools from these evil and cowardly assasins. Think of your own children, and if you honestly believe that Israel was totally wrong; what would you do? And please, let us know your thoughts on this very important matter.

admin @ December 18, 2012

A Childless Father Who Has a Son

Posted in: OPINIONS | Comments (0)

I am blessed. My wife gave me a son. He was hers before he was mine. Then he became ours. In my heart he is always mine and I feel as if I am his Dad. But it often feels like a homerun record with an asterisk, an almost. You see, I’m a step-father. That’s as close as I will ever come to experiencing the life of a father and for that I am forever thankful to God for I am a childless father who has a son.

I know the pride of watching my son play little league. Together we experienced the joy of victory and the agony of defeat. I encouraged him to play music. I helped with homework. I watched him march in band. I raced against the stop lights time after time to make it to events and meetings with teachers, doctor’s appointments, and birthdays. I watched him graduate grade school after driving him from one town to another so he could remain in the same school with his friends after we moved. I blessed God when he graduated high school and earned scholarships to college. I was happy when he chose the girl my wife and I prayed for long before we ever met her, enjoyed being the father of the groom, and I love my grandchildren with all my heart. I am truly blessed. My wife gave me a son.

But there are four other children I have never known. Four other children blood of my blood and bone of my bone that I never had the chance to know.

These are my aborted children.

They were aborted without my consent, told by the women involved and the courts that it was none of my business, murdered within the law, slaughtered beyond the pale. They are still alive within my heart.

Let me say in defense of the women who aborted my children, before I gave my life to Christ I was a snake. As a matter of fact I’ve always said that before I was saved snakes would cross the street when they saw me coming. I was a drug addicted; drunken scheming dreamer convinced I should be something I wasn’t and equally convince I wasn’t what I was.

Any young woman who learned they were pregnant and that I was the father could not be blamed for deciding I was a waste of space, a self-indulgent loser, and a disaster as a potential father. And although none of the three young women involved ever told me why they aborted my children, that’s what I have always thought was my addition to the equation.

Once I gave my life to Christ. Once I sobered up, straightened out, and stood in the light of His love I knew he forgave me for any part I played in the deaths of these innocent children. I know He forgives everyone who lays their sins at the foot of the cross.

Over the years He has ministered to my heart, my spirit, and my soul as I have cried tears for who could have been. I am healed for when He said, “It is finished,” sin was defeated. When He rose from the grave life conquered death, and since He ascended into heaven where He took His place at the right hand of the Father together we all live in Him. I am healed.

But there is not a day I don’t miss those children. There is not a day I don’t think of what might have been. There is not a day that I don’t imagine seeing them in Him.

I struggle sometimes knowing that two of the women who aborted my children later had other children. They’ve had an experience they took from me. I don’t begrudge them the joy of parenting. I have forgiven them. But sometimes I’m jealous of what they have and of what I shall never have and for this I repent. I also struggle sometimes watching other women I know have had abortions and later had children. I know God has forgiven them. I don’t have anything against them but at times I struggle with my own emotions.

All of this is the burden of this forgotten father. I was forgotten in the decision to abort my children. I have been forgotten in all the years since.

I may be forgotten but I cannot forget.

My children died. Four lost lives in the American holocaust of millions. They are four souls whose blood cries out to God, four cracks in my broken heart, four children of God I long to know, four tears I shall cry till the day we meet.

A step-father is like a used shoe. It may look good, it may wear well, and at time it may even feel good. But it’s still a used shoe.

However my step-son may feel about me I know how I feel about him. He is my son. I may have lost four but I have gained one. I am blessed. My wife gave me a son.

Dr. Owens teaches History, Political Science, and Religion. He is the Historian of the Future @ http://drrobertowens.com © 2018 Contact Dr. Owens drrobertowens@hotmail.com Follow Dr. Robert Owens on Facebook or Twitter @ Drrobertowens or visit Dr. Owens Amazon Page / Edited by Dr. Rosalie Owens

Dr. Robert Owens @ June 15, 2018