It is Time

I was on the treadmill the other day, sweaty and panting as I flipped through the channels on the built in tv.

I came across a politically focused cable news program, yuuuuuuuck. I'm more of a TLC, Home and Garden Network kinda girl, I've even settled on the Kardashians when things were desperate. But the controversial topic they were discussing on this episode of Hardball with Chris Matthews had me glued to the screen: Rape and Abortion.  Hhhmmmm......

I was terribly curious as to what these strongly opinionated commentators, from both sides of the debate, had to say about a situation that I've lived through and they hadn't.

I watched and listened for a minute, then another minute, and then a few more. I kept nodding my head in agreement with what was being said, relieved that I didn't feel the desire to punch the screen as I thought I might. Till a statistic they breezed over so casually brought my world to a screeching halt.

32,000

Thirty two thousand women become pregnant from rape each year in the United States.

Did you know that? I didn't know that. I had no idea that in 2008, 31,999 other women were dealt some of the same cards I was.

I couldn't take in another second of the conversation. I pressed the emergency stop button on the machine, my body's instant reflex to this horrifying fact. I made a B-line to the showers and sobbed as quietly as I could, my face stuffed into the towel.

In this next year, 32,000 women are going to walk through the same hell I did. They're going to face what I faced. And they're going to want to die, like I did. And they're not going to understand why God allowed this to happen, because how can you?

After shampooing and conditioning and shaving as best I could, I made it to the vanity area to paint my face and dry my locks. But the tears were relentless, I had 32,000 women on my heart and this incredible sense of urgency...

I've gotta tell them

I've gotta tell them

I've gotta tell them

There is hope.