Disposable Babies

By: Teresa K. Murphy

It is so hard for me as an artist to write about the picture above. It had so many feelings stirred up in my spirit as I painted it. I wanted children and the Lord blessed me with only one, I begged girls I knew for their unwanted children, anything instead of an abortion. In addition I was being selfish. I wanted more children and couldn't have them. Somehow or another abortions seemed to be all around me with my family, with my friends –what a cop out– and then to ask me for a ride to the abortion clinic. During this time God laid it on my heart to paint a picture concerning abortion.

The picture first started with the dumpster in the background. On the actual painting you can see garbage bags and coke cans. That's a time when a lot of little babies were being discarded. My goodness a garbage bag full of babies ranging in size, sex, and color where just being thrown away. My heart grieved as I looked at that dumpster and was lead to show the garbage bag in the foreground filled with dead babies and blood. Anger seemed to take over as I wondered about the many plans the Lord had counted on for those children –just thrown away– and how could our government allow or even promote such violations of justice. This nation was founded on God — now we're a disposable society that's even discarding God's word. That's when I felt I should paint the garbage bag full of aborted babies done in an American flag. Are our politicians trying to lower the intellect of our future by annihilating the generations ahead? With as many abortions that we've had in our country, what's so absurd about "teenage gangs" and "kids killing kids" when we have set the precedence that "you are disposable." No, this is not giving women more rights over their bodies, this is a twisted, morbid means of population control when the guilt falls on the individuals and their loved ones who have an abortion.

Besides the anger that is aroused in one with this picture, the sorrow is there too. That's where Christ comes in, holding a tiny little aborted child up at the heavens in all of God's glory with tears streaming down his cheeks. Surely, He who died for our sins must be suffering once again with each died child whose name was intended to be written down in the book of life.

The pictures actual size and subject matter makes it a li'l harsh for a painting in the living room, but I know God had me paint it, for it to be seen. I have no idea how it will effect viewers except right between the eyes. There are so many hidden areas with abortion that people need to think about. Our dumpster babies now are being sold to make exotic lamp shades, used in anti-aging creams, and many more absurd ways. Our government is not for the people otherwise this mass murdering of scientifically acknowledged human beings would come to a halt.

What I am describing now about the picture is the memories of what I felt. I would like to express to you my thoughts of it as I look at it today, and not as an artist but as a cancer patient. I've been diagnosed with having two different types of incurable cancer for two years now and have been told several times I had only three weeks to live, maybe two months, to take it day by day; perhaps if I had tried this or that I could have maybe three months longer etc, etc...

Well let me tell you I know that I have taken and done just about everything they have offered if God had led me there. It's what I consider a battle, a costly battle for survival –— and now when I see that painting I remember how important it was for those small babies to live, how they moved and dodged the tools that were penetrating the areas around them, how they actually scoot away as far as possible from each instrument moving towards them, how they are torn limb by limb and still moving about to save themselves.

Oh dear God, what are we doing? This little being entrapped in an area of no escape tries in every way and means possible to survive. I with my cancer can pray aloud, can go to different doctors, can try what I want and turn down what a don't – but the little babies in the painting could fight in the only way they knew how by moving hastily in a confined area – "Oh how unfair we are." Now I not only see the tears on Christ's cheek, but the anger in his facial expressions. He's got to be questioning why, how could we, is this what we do with our gifts from God – MURDER. We shall be held accountable for this action. If there was but one person I know I had stopped from having an abortion, one person I'd lead to Christ, I would feel more at peace with this painting, but I don't think the painting is about peace, its about a country boldly breaking Gods first commandment and making life as disposable as the closest garbage bag.

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