Reflections on Father’s Day, the day after

By Dave Andrusko

Those of us guys who have never been in a life-and-death struggle to convince the woman in our life not to abort our child have an awful time trying to imagine what that would be like.

Powerlessness? Fear? Desperation? None of these words come close to capturing the utter helplessness he must feel in a situation where he has utterly no power to stop the abortion. All he can do is try to persuade the mother of their child, herself often in a panic, that they can find a way forward together. Of course that assumes he even knows she is pregnant before she has the abortion.

Could a man have a better Father’s Day than I did yesterday? Probably not. So at first glance it’s seems peculiar (or perhaps not) that this awful predicament crossed my mind late yesterday.

It’s not by any means an exact parallel, only in the sense that I have nightmares about it to this day and whenever I allow myself to think about it at any length, I all but break out in a cold sweat.

It was a number of years ago now and one of our daughters had just gotten her license. Why we allowed her to bring along her younger sister when she went out, I can’t recall (maybe we didn’t know).

But it was near their curfew and they were a long way ways from home. As a teenager would, her solution was to speed down one of the busiest highway in the United States at well over 90 miles per hour. Fortunately, a highway patrol officer pulled them over.

A flat tire, taking a curve too fast, losing control at that high speed–these or any of a hundred other things could have happened and they’d have killed themselves and perhaps other people as well.

I think about this near-fatality more and more the older I (and they) get. The devastation to our family, the lost potential, the loss to their future husbands of two wonderful women, the loss to our church and our community of two dynamic young people…it just goes on and on.

Every life lost to abortion is like that. I appreciate that telling that to someone who clutches “choice” to their bosoms closer than any baby is in most instances a lost cause.

But not always. No matter how deeply we try to bury our natural concern for and devotion to our children, born and unborn, it remains alive, if unrecognized.

Our job is to help women and men in a very difficult situation see beyond the immediate circumstances–what is–to what can be.