Last week at a yet-to-be-revealed location, the President of the United States was assassinated.
Don’t rush to your local paper – you won’t find any mention of it in the press. Many people believe it was a conspiracy, but there will be no arrests. Nor will you hear of trials, sentences, or executions. And lest I start an ugly rumor, I’m not talking about President Bush, or President-elect Obama. This president didn’t actually make it to the White House, or Congress, or even a voting booth before he was cut down.
Fact is, he never made it to the nursery.
The President wasn’t alone. Also killed last week were six federal judges, thirteen members of Congress, two state governors, thirty-one legislators, and more than a hundred teachers at various levels. Figure a dozen or so preachers into the mix, but they don’t count. Add to it almost a thousand nameless welfare recipients, a couple hundred various professionals, and some amazing artists and musicians.
All dead. The killings were executed(!) flawlessly.
All defenseless. No one had time to call the police, send for Secret Security agents, or even pull a weapon. One or two might have raised a fist in self-defense. Not much help, though.
All forgotten. No obituaries that described their survivors and gave the facts of their lives. No photo albums for their families to remember them by. No television tributes hosted by news anchormen. No army caisson, 21-gun salute, or riderless horse. Not even a quiet funeral.
I can hear all those cries of, “Foul!” already. “It’s just an unborn baby! How do you know he would have been the President?”
How do you know he wouldn’t?
We both know now… he won’t.
Some things we remember so well. Remember where you were then the Kennedys were killed? Remember what was happening when the Challenger or Columbia blew up? Remember hearing that Dr. King had been gunned down in Memphis, or that planes had flown into the World Trade Center and Pentegon? What were you doing then?
Sometimes Kings fall, Presidents die, and pioneers succumb to the perils they face. And we mourn them. We remember them. We honor them.
But who will mourn my slain Commander-in-Chief? Who will remember the color of his eyes, or the power of his words? Who will honor the difference he could have made?
Where were you when the President was killed? No doubt going about the normal, day-to-day activities of your busy days.
Maybe you were one of the few who prayed and hoped he would make it. I’m sorry to say, he didn’t. But let’s join together and pray for our country in its future. Let’s pray that somehow the power of God can do what the Secret Service cannot – protect our President-to-be from the womb of his own mother.
Oh, and every once in a while, gaze again at a picture of that lonely horse behind the caisson. And pause to mourn for what might have been.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
A sober and somber reminder Andy. How easy it is for the numbers to become just that…numbers. I stand guilty of the numbness that comes with seeing those numbers over and over, as I know many do. And that is a tragic thing.
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Andy, you have broken my heart! I read this and wept; wept for all the babies and all of the potential lost forever. Can God ever forgive our nation when it approves of the murder of millions?
From the very moment of conception, this new life is a child of God! Yes, you have stated so many truths, and each child is a “potential” as we all are.Christ sees each of us as His favorite child, and what a blessing we have to have that honor. Thankyou for reminding us how very specail we are.