Authors: James Dobson
“I'd be honored,” Alex replied.
A brief silence.
“Ivan was wrong,” Matthew said. “I know that now.”
Alex recalled the atheistic mantra Frank had embraced.
If there is no God, all things are permissible.
“Do you remember what I said about Ivan, Matthew?”
“You said he went mad.”
“That's right.”
Matthew sighed regretfully. “I nearly did the same.”
“I know,” said Alex. “But it sounds like you've taken a step back toward sanity, Matthew. I'll pray God gives you the grace to take another.”
“Thank you, Pastor,” the man said with moist emotion.
“I'll stop by in the morning,” the pastor promised. “We'll talk more then.”
Alex remained on the line for several minutes as Matthew Adams wept into the phone, a flood of regret watering a tiny seed of hope.
Julia winked
reassuringly toward Amanda, who, having received Baby Leah gingerly into her arms, appeared paranoid about the possibility of dropping or squashing the girl.
“Here, let me help,” Julia said before repositioning the child onto Amanda's lap. “There, now she can see everybody.”
Baby Leah looked at Julia from her twelve-year-old perch. Then she waved her little hand thanks to coaxing from Amanda. Julia copied the gesture.
She returned to the greenroom sofa, where Kevin's parents sat with the other Tolbert kids and awaited the big moment.
“Where's Uncle Troy?” asked Tommy.
“He's with your mommy and daddy,” Julia explained.
“He's gonna watch, too, isn't he?”
“Wouldn't miss it for anything,” said Julia. “He said he wants to sit by you and watch the speech right over there.” She pointed to a large screen mounted just above the refreshment table.
Tommy nodded approvingly before stuffing another truffle into his chocolate-rimmed mouth.
“My goodness, Tommy,” came Mrs. Tolbert's distraught voice. “Look at that mess on your face. Come over here and let me clean you up.”
The boy looked toward his grandpa in an apparent plea for rescue from one of Grandma's spit baths. Jim Tolbert raised both hands in a show of surrender.
“Sorry, Son,” he said. “But you can't very well walk onto the stage with truffle stains, can you? It might create a scandal that lands you on the cover of the weekend journal.”
The old man laughed at himself while Tommy sulked toward his grandmother's napkin.
“Do you really think they'll bring the kids onto the stage?” asked Mrs. Tolbert.
“Fifty-fifty chance,” Julia guessed. “I imagine if the speech is well received they'll want to capture shots of Kevin's family hugging one another and waving to the crowd.”
The door opened and a man poked his head inside. “Fifteen minutes,” he said, the second of four countdown warnings they would receive. The next would occur ten minutes before the speech. At the five-minute mark someone would arrive to escort Angie to a special seat on the convention floor and direct Kevin to a staging area where he would await the moment of truth.
“I guess we should alert Kevin,” said Julia as she walked toward a dressing room door.
Troy, Angie, and Kevin had huddled to discuss how to handle headlines that were less than an hour old. Evan Dimitri's arrest had led to several others, including that of a woman who had organized a series of supposed transitions and a man who had jammed the needle into Judge Santiago's neck. Most disruptive to the convention, however, was the revelation that Dimitri had been one of the largest donors to the prospective nominee, Joshua Franklin. The news had cast a dark cloud of uncertainty over the nomination process. Kevin had said he needed Troy's eyes on a few changes he wanted to make to his speech, including what he described as an unconventional conclusion.
Julia opened the door, interrupting the conversation. “Ready?” she asked.
“I think so,” said Troy with an anxious sigh.
Angie looked adorably nervous for her husband.
“Hey there. You OK?” asked Julia.
A hesitant nod.
“You look amazing,” Julia added after taking another admiring look up and down Angie's form-fitted elegance.
“Thanks, Julia,” she said while accepting her friend's embrace.
“What about me?” said the man of the hour. “Don't I get a hug? I'm the one about to make a fool of himself.”
“I very much doubt that,” said Julia while offering her friend a squeeze of confidence.
They walked back into the greenroom just in time to hear another knock on the outer door. A man entered.
“Senator Franklin?” Kevin said at the sight of the surprise visitor. “I didn't expectâ”
“Just wanted to wish you well,” Franklin interrupted. “This is a big night for you, Congressman. A big night for all of us.”
The senator appeared at a loss for words before clearing his throat.
“So,” he continued, “I imagine you've seen the news about Dimitri?”
“I have,” replied Kevin.
“A terrible shock.”
“Yes, sir.”
The men stood in awkward silence.
Franklin spoke next. “I was sorry to hear about what happened to your folks. I hope they're all right.”
“They are.” Kevin motioned toward where his parents were seated as if to introduce them. “In factâ”
The senator interrupted, ignoring the gesture. “I suppose it goes without saying that we see no reason to let any of this distract us from what needs to be done.”
Kevin frowned, then grinned. “Of course.”
Franklin began patting Kevin's shoulder. “Good. Good.”
Another knock. “Ten minutes, Congressman,” came a shout.
“Well, I'll get out of your way, Kevin. Like I said, this is a big night for you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The prospective nominee turned to exit, only then noticing the presence of Kevin's clan. He appeared unsettled by the sight.
“My, my,” he said with a tone of distant admiration, or perhaps condescension. “I haven't seen this many children in one place since I graduated from elementary school.” He reached toward Tommy as if to pat the boy's head. Tommy managed to steer clear of the assault.
An embarrassed chuckle. “You certainly do have a big tribe, don't you? Too bad they can't vote,” he said before walking out the door.
“Well,” Troy announced after a moment, “I sure didn't see that coming.”
“Me, neither,” said Kevin.
Julia stole another glance toward the assembly of future voters waiting to cheer their father's on-screen appearance. No matter what happened, she thought, they could be proud of their daddy's efforts to make a difference. Just as she and Amanda took pride in all Troy had done to support his friend.
She accepted Troy's hand, savoring the security of his tender grip. Then she noticed Amanda watching them from the other side of the room as if relishing the sight of man and woman turned father and mother to an orphaned girl. An orphaned girl holding Baby Leah, a child many considered unworthy of life.
The sight brought Julia back to another moment. A prayer voiced in the middle of the night. “Please, God, protect Baby Leah.” She remembered what her pastor had said.
Dreams sometimes have meaning tied to God's redemptive purposes
. He had likened them to movie trailers, glimpses of divine purposes.
Had Julia seen such a glimpse, she wondered? Had her dreams depicted mysteries beyond human comprehension? Had the sadistic laughter been a summons from an enemy seeking to drag Julia, all of them, into dehumanizing shadows? Had the mysterious man extending his hand been summoning a fatherless world back to his loving, paternal protection? Had the intense compulsion to pray been her most important assignment against an assault even more insidious than the expansive Youth Initiative?
Prayer for Amanda: the transition-orphan who now gave greater purpose to a childless couple's union.
Prayer for Baby Leah: a disabled child who was among those most vulnerable to the heartless reach of economic pragmatism.
Prayer for the Tolberts: a family that embodied the beauty and love at the heart of the God she had come to know.
A sound forced Julia back into the present moment. From Amanda's lap Baby Leah flashed an enormous grin while her arms and legs trembled in excited delight.
“What is it, girl?” asked Amanda while tightening her hold.
Every head turned in their direction.
“Did you hear that?” asked Kevin.
“We heard it,” said Angie with a smile. “That's the fifth time in a week.”
“Sixth,” corrected Kevin proudly. “She's said, âDaddy' six times!”
Another knock at the door. “Excuse me, Congressman. It's time.”
“On my way,” he replied while leaning down to kiss Baby Leah's cheek.
Troy placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. “Make us proud, Congressman,” he said.
Then Kevin and Angie rushed out the door.
Julia and Troy joined the elder Tolberts on the sofa to watch Kevin deliver his speech.
“So, how did he decide to end?” Julia asked while squeezing the arm of her husband.
“Classic Tolbert,” Troy replied. “He plans to flash pictures of his kids while inviting everyone to become a bright spot.”
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for the honor of appearing before you this evening. As Congresswoman Ortega just said in her gracious introduction, my wife Angie and I have four terrific kids. So you'll forgive me if I keep my comments brief this evening. [Glance at watch.] Bedtime is in thirty minutes! [Pause for laughter.]
In twenty-four hours you, the delegates, will decide who should succeed President Lowman as our party's nominee for the highest office in the land. I hope you take that assignment as seriously as our times demand. The future of this great nation depends upon strong leadership that understands the economic and social challenges before us; a leader who isn't afraid to make difficult decisions or tackle complex issues; and a leader who has demonstrated the kind of integrity and courage that will be required in coming days.
But before we nominate our candidate and finalize our party platform, it falls to me to say that there is an elephant in the room. And no, I'm not talking about our trunk-nosed mascot. I'm talking about a potential split over fundamental differences of opinion on how best to address the economic decline in which we find ourselves.
For decades every segment of the population, including the once-fertile immigrants, has fallen far below replacement levels. As a result the economic pyramid has flipped and now teeters under a top-heavy load. This year the youngest of the nearly sixty million baby boomers turned seventy-eight. The oldest, four million of them, turned ninety-five. So we find ourselves being squeezed from both directions. The cost to care for our oldest citizens continues to rise while the pool of working, taxpaying citizens continues to shrink. The combined GDP hit runs about five trillion per year.
This country has gone down the same path as every other developed nation in the world due to a combination of declining fertility and senior longevity. And based upon current trends, our pool of working-age adults will continue to shrink.
I'm sure you've heard countless pundits debate the merits of President Lowman's Youth Initiative. Many hoped these policies would help ease our economic decline. And it's true that we've managed to cut hundreds of billions of dollars in medical and entitlement expenses out of the federal budget. It's also true that millions of volunteers have chosen to transition much-needed assets to the younger generation. But we must ask ourselves, at what cost?
Is encouraging the old and vulnerable to die the best we can do to solve this problem? Have you, like me, felt a tiny fragment of your own dignity falling away with each and every volunteer appointment? Don't you, like me, believe there might be a better way, one that acknowledges the inherent value of every man, woman, and child?
Such questions caused us to look beneath the surface of the data to find a ray of sunlight in our overall cloudy picture. What we discovered, ladies and gentlemen, surprised all of the supposed experts. In short, the strongest areas of economic growth in this nation share two simple characteristics. First, they have much higher rates of fertility, more than twice the national average. Second, they have the lowest rates of transition volunteers. In other words, they run one hundred percent opposite to the priorities of Youth Initiative policies.
That's why we formed the Center for Economic Health, a coalition of public- and private-sector leaders seeking ways to make it easier for young people to marry and raise children. We are exploring ways our communities can welcome the wisdom and support of our elderly rather than pressure them to check out early. Many of you here tonight are part of that growing movement, and I thank you for your support. I'd especially like to express appreciation to a coalition of religious leaders who crafted the following open letter to elected officials such as myself.
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An Open Letter to Our Elected Officials:
We, the undersigned, wish to express our gratitude for your service to this nation. You play a crucial role in the God-ordained institution of government and we pray that you will be given strength for the task and wisdom for the challenges that lie ahead. As members of the clergy from a variety of religious traditions we, like you, seek to ease the suffering of hurting people and to nurture health in an ailing society. The Hebrew
Scriptures state that when the righteous rule, the people rejoice. As spokesmen and spokeswomen for many of the people under your authority, we pledge our support and assistance in your effort to do what's right for this great nation. Toward that end we feel compelled to bring to your attention a growing concern over how some of the policies enacted in recent years are affecting the communities we serve.
First, difficult economic times have accelerated the already alarming decline in birthrates, further strangling off the only trickle of life capable of nourishing a rich garden of human thriving. All of our religious traditions uphold the beauty and priority of parenthood. And despite the technological, social, and political pressures that make it increasingly difficult to do so, the most devout among us make the sacrifices necessary to bear and rear a new generation. We consider these families to be bright spots in an ever-darkening society. Will you join us in the effort to encourage and support those willing and able to shine the light of hope that radiates from the face of every newborn child?
Our second concern is directly related to the first. A shrinking pool of natural families has created an equally pressing crisis on the other end of the demographic continuum. Too few young and healthy bear the burden of a rapidly aging population. This state of affairs has created an economic strain on the entire society. Cultural elites derisively label the weak and vulnerable “debits” unworthy of life. The younger generation has come to resent rather than honor the old. But all of our faith traditions
consider every human being worthy of dignity and protection, including those with graying hair and waning memories. Will you join us in the effort to defend the dignity of the aging and disabled among us?
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I, for one, take these words to heart. I hope that the person we nominate tomorrow will do the same.
Take a long, hard look at the numbers, ladies and gentleman. You'll find that this nation's problem is not that we have too many old. Our problem is that we have too few young. We hope to see this nation back policies that will make it easier for families to thrive and to treat the old and disabled with dignity instead of like useless debits.
During this session of Congress I am sponsoring what has been labeled the Bright Spots proposal. If you can sort through all of the policy minutiae, budget projections, and legal-speak contained in the proposal, you will discover a very simple idea. It invites all of us to become bright spots in an increasingly dark world.
[Show picture of the family. Wait for audience reaction.]
These are the bright spots in my life.
Standing to my right is my lovely wife Angie. She is my best friend and life partner. But she's also the hope of our nation's future. Politicians talk about solutions. Business leaders produce innovative products. But only women like Angie can solve our most fundamental challenge. We need more people. And that means someone must accept the noble, sacrificial call to motherhood. Angie has done her share by bringing four children into the world: a world that has forgotten the urgent priority of bearing and nurturing the next generation. That makes Angie a bright spot; just like millions of other unsung heroes somebody calls Mommy.
The couple standing to my left are Gayle and Jim Tolbert. I call them Mom and Dad. But the little ones standing in front of me call them Grandma and Grandpa. My kids relish every minute spent hanging around with their grandparents. They love the tradition of eating chocolate chip pancakes whenever we visit almost as much as Mom and Dad love hanging crayon-drawn masterpieces on the refrigerator.
[Show picture of refrigerator. Wait for audience sighs.]
Gayle and Jim Tolbert are, of course, bright spots in our lives. And yes, they contribute to the overall economy when they buy goods and services. But much more importantly, they represent a longstanding belief we would do well to reclaim: the value of human life shouldn't be charted on a spreadsheet. My parents, like millions of other elderly and disabled citizens, have resisted mounting pressure to volunteer. They refuse to chip another fragment away from our common sense of dignity, by reminding us that human worth is measured in hugs and kisses, not dollars and cents.
[Show picture of Baby Leah.]
This is my precious little girl, Leah. You can't tell by looking at her, but Baby Leah has a genetic disorder called fragile X syndrome that brings cognitive impairment. She is one who will always consume a higher share of resources than she will likely ever produce. Some have suggested people like Leah should be put out of their misery. But if we are honest with ourselves, it's not their misery we are trying to end. It's our inconvenience. Leah, like so many other disabled citizens, can't give back.
Or can she?
[Show picture of Tommy and Joy hugging Baby Leah.]
On the scale of hugs and kisses, she seems to be doing pretty well.
[Pause for sighs.]
Every developed nation on earth is asking what to do about those who cost more than they produce. But we are a nation founded upon a fundamental belief that all people are created equal and are endowed by the Creator with unalienable rights including life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. In that spirit, I challenge us to remember our past rather than fear our future. Yes, times are difficult. Yes, our challenge is great. But we must not forget that greatness is shown when we defend the weak and protect the vulnerable. Strength and growth are by-products of bearing and raising the young, not pillaging and sacrificing the old. We become a virtuous people when we give to the poor and treasure the weak.
So I invite you to join a growing movement lighting our nation's future.
Form a family and invest in the next generation. Every stable home becomes yet another foundation stone for rebuilding this great nation.
Elect leaders who recognize that government exists to defend the rights of the weak rather than indulge the appetites of the strong.
In short, become a bright spot!
God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.