The Gospel of Life
For better or worse, I’m back. This, taken in a Saigon orphanage, is the reason for my absence: my new daughter, Tran Thi ThanhChi.
For my wife and me, she is the result of nearly a decade of what seems like battle, and she is worth every second.
I have not thought or written about the Gospel of Life in the way that, say, Stephen Bainbridge has, nor am I particularly religious. But it hit me full square the first time I changed her diaper. She is still too helpless even to keep herself clean, and thus does she create a splendid obligation for me. Cleaning her became for me the concrete way of understanding why the Gospel of Life trumps what its supporters euphemistically call Choice.