July 26, 2023, after watching “Sound of Freedom” in theaters

It's not that I don't know these things happen. I literally work full-time in the pro-life movement. But still, the victims are so impersonal to me - so distant - that I forget.

Abortion, sex trafficking and slavery of all types, abuse, homelessness, orphans, assisted suicide, poverty. The numbers are in the billions, and they all blur together into a far-away horror that I hardly want to bring into focus. Doing so might compel me to turn my life upside-down in response - and I quite like my comfortable life, thank you very much.

But then, hearing the story of just one rips my heart open again.

A human being, an image-bearer, someone's little daughter - an eternal soul.

The one represents the billions, and I'm left with a numb heaviness that words can't express.

Go home in a daze, set up a monthly donation. Pray. Look around my room, feel disgusted at the materialism I live in.

Donate clothes? Buy cheaper shampoo? Stop working out? Quit reading novels and painting? Skip vacation? It all feels so self-absorbed.

Sleepless nights in prayer, long days of intense work?