As Peter Hitchens, brother of the late-Christopher and witty to boot (and I have recently become one of his biggest fangirls, I stalk his blog but alas he lives too far away to be stalked in person too) has said: "Is there any point in public debate in a society where hardly anyone has been taught how to think, while millions have been taught what to think?"
There was a time, when I didn't know any better and thought myself to be passionate enough about what I'd been force-fed by secular media and my peers to take a stand for it. And ohhh boy did I take a stand and thought myself incredibly original at the time. Yes, I was a sexually free modern woman and motherhood was so passÃ©. Not only was it passÃ© but it was lame and sentimental and everything I had prided myself on not being. People in a rush to get pregnant were those too dumb to accomplish anything else in life but to live vicariously through their spawn… pathetic much?
And now irony of ironies, here I am over eight months pregnant and about to take that step to motherhood myself in all its lame sentimentality.
Gettin' my philosophy from the Discovery channel
Sentimentality was naturally not to be admired in my Survival of the Fittest mentality. In fact, Evolutionists who get gooey-eyed over a fetus are not exactly being consistent with their own world-view (but since when is that a first? Consistency in belief of Survival of the Fittest naturally leads you to the holocaust no matter how you try to talk yourself around it). So I was about as pro-abortion as you could get. And even more, since I believed you could take a logical step to infanticide if the situation called for it.
And why not? Protecting a lump that couldn't defend itself was lunacy, even if I was once a lump like that myself. Sensitivity was for the weak and the weak were lame and pathetic. So why not take the easy road? Pregnancy sure isn't easy but taking the morning after pill cleverly designed to make murder seem like taking a headache tablet sure is. We're told all the time that there are enough children in the world and the population needs to be controlled. If only they could force-feed the same morning after pills those women in Africa giving birth to children they can't feed the world would be a much better place.
Women, as illogical as they can sometimes be (spoken as a woman myself, so no hate mail please – hormones make us do funny things) should have the right to do what they want to with their bodies. Including dressing as if you're asking to be taken advantage of and selling your bodies off for drugs or money. And when it comes to pregnancy, that's your choice too, since your own comfort and happiness should always be the almighty first in life.
Complete with fangs and yellow-eyes…
I was a monster. There's no way around it to make me sound like a decent human being but in my defence (not that I deserve defending) I had just sucked in the cultural zeitgeist and spouted it as though I was being incredibly clever with my own conclusions on the matter. I gave myself a big pat on the back for being consistent at least (as so many Humanists borrow from a Christian position to be soft and caring for humanity) but I was a cruel human being in the process.
Eight years ago that was dramatically changed. I can't pretend to harp on about my own individuality any more than I used to. But at least I wasn't listening to my culture anymore – I'd exchanged that for the word of God. Nobody is entirely unique; ideas come from somewhere and can often be caught like a cold but the problem is that most are arrogant enough to assume what they think comes from them as a startling testimony to their own brilliance.
Pffft is what I say to that. My twisted convictions had my judging cognitive response as to be equated with personhood and as a non-believer in the soul I didn't even want to question the alternative (that would lead me to religion – gasp!). I was too convinced that I was right and I was particularly brilliant for taking a stand on it. But what did God say of me? "Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? there is more hope of a fool than of him" [Proverbs 26:12].
Hope for the hopeless
But even when there was no hope, Jesus found a way to lay claim over my life. Now I am still not going goo-goo over a newborn (even though miracles do happen) but I have a newfound respect for motherhood – the duty that God initiated and I'm willing to give it my best shot with His guiding. My arrogance has been melted and I'm learning to let go of the delusion that there is anything individual about my opinions. God knows more than me and I think finally after all my stubbornness, I've accepted that.
Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward [Psalms 127:3]
Bridget Brenton has spent seven years in China and currently lives on the Gold Coast with her husband Steven. Over the last decade she has been studying all things philosophy, apologetics and the supernatural and now is endeavoring to put that knowledge into ministry. She writes a blog on the paranormal and it's relation to practical Christianity.