The Story Before You Were Born + some scary numbers

I’ve felt like sharing this for a little while now but faced a problem of having to deal with my orphans. I’m talking about pieces of art that I’ve made and are special to me that I’ve left behind because I couldn’t see where they would fit. Sometimes I feel like they wouldn’t grab much attention.
Sometimes that may be true but regardless of how important they are, they still grab my attention. Especially now. I wouldn’t want to bore you with this rambling so off to the story and more that I have for you (including a video). So enjoy!
The Story: Depuis le Debut
The Earth looks like a marble from here. It’s not very shiny. But it definitely looks much more welcoming than the other planets I’ve seen.
My God is holding me in his palm. He says, “It’s almost time to go.”
“I’m scared,” I say, “What if I land somewhere with hunger and war? What if my family is poor and I have to live on the streets? I like it here. There’s everything I need.”
“I only hope the best for you. But it isn’t where you are born that will determine your next life. It’s whether you trust that you have what it takes to live out whatever you desire?”
I sigh. I wonder how people down there make it through a day with so much to fight through. So much to worry about. It’s like they’ve forgotten where they came from.
“Why do people live like you don’t take care of them?”
“You can follow faith. Or you can follow fear. What you believe is what you will live. Please don’t fall for the ideas of the world, not all that people tell you about life is the truth.”
“So how am I supposed to live? And even if you tell me, you once said that when I am born this conversation will be forgotten. How will I ever know the truth then?”
“Yes, your mind will forget for I shall place a veil so that you shall not remember. But your heart will not forget. It will always remember. You must learn to be honest with yourself. Even when that inner voice is silly. You must learn to listen to your heart and trust your gut. I’m sure you will have a good time there.”
“I hope so. It looks like a struggle.”
“It depends on what you decide to fight for.”
“And what shall I fight for?”
“Depends on what you want. You haven’t been there yet. There’s not much that you really want yet. When you live, you will see what you want and you will know what matters to you.”
“Thank You. But I’m sad that I’m going to forget your words. I feel the clouds inside of me beginning to thunder.”
“My words will follow you. And I will always be just around the corner. There’s no reason to be afraid. Besides, I’ll give you great friends who will help share my words with you, and you will do the same as well my dear.”
I turn to his face. It’s warm, trusty and always positive. I wish I could remember his face when I go. But I’ll forget it too.
“It’s time to go, dear. Are you ready?”
“I don’t want to forget your face.”
“I know. But you will for a while. And your name as well. You shall live by another name until the day you come to see my face again. And we will have a good laugh. But don’t fret, where you go, I am already there. I will always look after you. I am always going to be in love with you forever.”
With those words he leaves a smile on me and I no longer feel afraid.
He gently tilts his hand toward the Earth and I slip off into space. Transcending through dimensions and merging with a flesh in a woman’s womb. A woman chosen to be my mother from the beginning of time. Depuis le debut. This will be my mother and my guardian. I will live by her blood and our bond is sempiternal. My face shall be like hers.
I don’t know if I shall be a boy or a girl but the Lord says in the womb we all start out as girls, then some change to boys, others remain as girls.
However, by this point time is no longer a Circle. It is a Line, it is a motion that is now forward and measured in days and weeks and months. I no longer remember my Lord’s words nor his face. But I feel my mother’s warmth and that’s something I can hold onto until I return to the land above the stars.
Suddenly the warmth turns cold and the blood around me is no longer flowing. Am I being born? Is it my time?
I see a light. It’s not a tube-light. It’s no lamp light. It’s a good light. A warm light. I think I know this light. I am flowing back to the light and I see a face. I remember the face. It’s my Lord! I am so happy.
“You’re back so soon, dear. How do you feel? Please tell me?”
 From his words I know something wrong has happened. I realize this is not the way to Earth. And my instincts tell me exactly what it is. “Father, I think I’ve just been aborted.”
Childhood is a very precious time. They are early years when we are who we are. The silly, funny and carefree souls. The mind is always adapting to the new things it senses. To the papers, to the news, to what people say. It’s built for survival. 
The heart though, it always knows the truth. It always remembers the conversation before the next chapter of life. It’s always connected to where we truly come from and the things that are truly dear to us, no matter how ridiculous, silly or trivial they may be.
Our emotions, our dreams, our desires, our answers. 
Life is everyone’s right. But not everyone gets to be born. Not everyone gets to be a child.
Up to this point this year (2014) there have been over 16 million abortions and the numbers keep counting, at least 5 abortions per 3 seconds. (I did that on my watch). This is a live count for abortions and it is just SAD!!
In case of any doubts, let’s get this clarified…
By Definition: An abortion is the termination of a pregnancy by the removal or expulsion of an embryo or fetus from the uterus, resulting in or caused by its death. An abortion can occur spontaneously due to complications during pregnancy or can be induced. (definition from Wikipedia)
Abortion as a term most commonly – and in the statistics presented here – refers to the induced abortion of a human pregnancy, while spontaneous abortions are usually termed miscarriages.
The above statistics are only the ones that have been reported. So the actual number (including unreported abortions) is way above the digits you will see on your screen.
To see this live count for yourself, please click here. Or use this link:
In my own way I feel like I’ve left some orphans of my own. This week I’ve started writing my next story, Play With My Hair. I am completely in love with it and after last year’s trials I know this is the story to get me back into the writing world.
But you may not know that last year I made 3 attempts at writing a book and I just couldn’t. There was always something missing. This or that didn’t feel right. But I never deleted anything.
ImageWriting Chapter One was like putting a puzzle together from unfinished projects, the orphans are home! 🙂
I’m thankful for that. I can now bring my orphans together and it finally feels worth it that those words now belong to Play With My Hair. 
I would love to talk about this next project but I’ll save it for another time. I have another orphan to bring back to life and she relates very much to the idea of the child in all of us.
It’s a video.
The original version of this video got lost so the one I have uploaded may be a little blurry because of the quality. I hope you may forgive that. She really deserves to live and touch someone out there no matter what and the message is still very much there.
Who knows? You might as well hear the words you once heard in a conversation that only you heart can recall. So click below for the vid.
ImageThe background music in the video is the song Manhattan by Sara Bareilles, album The Blessed Unrest, 2013. Click here to get it on itunes.
Thanks for sharing your love with my orphans. I believe everything needs to be expressed in some way. How else will we grow?
Peace & Love
Douglas R

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s