However, most Americans still want abortion to remain legal.

In writing about women and spirituality I’ve not squared off with the important issue of abortion.  I’m friends with women who are pro-choice and pro-life.  As in the gun rights issue, it is the caricatures in media coverage that distorts the women behind the platforms.  I’ve noticed how easily both of us fail to understand the robust arguments for the other side.

For instance it’s neither accurate or fair to believe that all pro-choice advocates are pro-woman and anti-baby, nor is it accurate to assume all pro-life advocates are pro-baby and anti-woman. In this post I want to see what we can learn from each other without the mud-slinging.

Our recent book, Coffee Shop Conversations: Making the Most of Spiritual Small Talk, begins with the Rules of Loving Discourse.  I’d like to practice these with you as we  discuss abortion. Let’s see if we can get into the other side’s shoes, listen to valid arguments and concerns all the while discovering what we actually believe about life, womanhood, family, sex and death.

The Grey Area

It seems only fair to begin by admitting there are areas where the decision to terminate a fetus’ life is not black and white, where the mother and the baby’s life are in danger.

Our local paper syndicated Nicholas Kristof’s coverage in the New York Times of Sister Margaret McBride’s recent excommunication, a senior administrator at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Phoenix. The charge: McBride’s assent to the termination of an 11-week old fetus carried by a 27-year-old mother.  This mother of four suffered from pulmonary hypertension that created a high enough probability that the strain of a continuing pregnancy would likely kill her and her baby.  The balance of mother and child’s life hung suspended at this Catholic hospital, needing permission from someone like Sister Margaret. To refuse to act would have likely destroyed both mother and child.

The Bishop of Phoenix, Thomas Olmsted, ruled that “the mother’s life cannot be preferred over the child’s,” and excommunicated McBride.   Read the full story at NPR.

Then What?

Often my pro-life friends are quick to assume that if abortion were made illegal, the world would be a better place.

But, consider for a moment what would follow.  What laws would pro-life advocates want enforced? What specific policy would we implement against doctors who perform abortions when they are illegal? Would we charge them with first degree murder?  What crime should a woman be charged with for seeking an abortion?

If women are victims of abortion, how can we penalize them? Doesn’t this assault a woman’s volition, her autonomy, her maturity? Should penalties for women be increased if they seek more than one abortion? For mothers who seek abortions, do we incarcerate them and remove them from their families to prevent further abortions? Do we penalize then with a fine? with community service?

Are we truly ready to call all women who seek abortions murderers? And what about the systems, the ethics committees, the counselors and family members, the boyfriends and husbands who play a part in these abortions? Should they also be charged with murder? If abortion becomes illegal do we call McBride an accomplice to a murder?

For more questions and a rigorous development of the “then what?” see Dan’s Hole in the Wall: Getting Political for a Moment“)

Listening to Pro-Choice

I recently came across a blog where Hugo Schwyzer, professor, Episcopal youth minister, husband and father explains that his experience of watching his second daughter born only confirmed him more resolutely into the pro-choice camp (read at “Pregnant Woman, Personhood and Some Paternal Reflections“).

Confused and interested I read on.   He notices that once a woman becomes pregnant people’s perception of her value splits into two categories.

One, her value as a woman.

Two, her value as a life-giving agent to sustain, carry, feed, shelter this growing life inside.  A perfect way to illustrate this duality is how commonly people feel free to touch a pregnant woman’s belly.  I experienced this as well. People I knew only casually slid their hands all around my abdomen, without seeming to realize this was my skin, my nerves they touched. They weren’t really touching Finn, they were touching me.

Schwyzer notes that a growing life inside a woman, for all its excitement and beauty, does not trump a woman’s subject-hood.  In other words, the life of the baby should not erase the woman’s life. He writes,

” To see my daughter born was one of the great experiences of my life. But I never lost sight of the reality that my wife was more than a vessel to carry this new and splendid creature. My wife’s rights didn’t diminish with conception and with each passing week of gestation. I knew a longed-for and desperately wanted new life grew inside of her, but the emphasis was always as much on “inside of her” as on the “new life.” And I assure you that my wonder at the miracle of life is matched, and even surpassed, by the wonder at what a woman’s body can do if that woman chooses to make it happen.”

In thinking about this I both agree and disagree.  I agree that a woman’s personhood is intact, even while pregnant. However, I think Schwyzer has overblown the choice woman have.

You cannot be pregnant without becoming a vessel.  The fact that a woman’s life (food, energy, etc) serves her fetus is not a choice. You cannot bear a child and also refuse to become a vessel.  Pregnancy means our body will  serve this child’s growing needs, you cannot be pregnant without performing this service.  And, in my case, gain lots of extra weight, feel sore, require frequent bathroom visits and feel achy while you try to do normal activities.  Pregnancy can feel like an invasion. To call this a choice is in my mind mistaken.

A better verb is not choosing, but entering or enduring or accepting.  I would not call the pregnancy a choice as much as something that happens to women after sex… and there’s no way for a woman to exit the pregnancy without having something else happen to her, be it a miscarriage or an abortion.

As much as I dislike the picture of woman as passive, accepting pregnancy does not have the texture of other intentional decisions I’ve made in my life.  Waiting and watching my body change wasn’t the same as choosing what major I wanted, who to marry, what flowers to plant, when or how to have sex.

Pregnancy feels more like something is happening to me, like a ride I stepped on, a plane I boarded.   Pregnancy felt like something was being acted within me.  And to accept this vessel-becoming experience, to become a tabernacle of new life involved my investment and daily sacrifice (read more about my pregnancy experience “New Body“).

Perhaps what Schwyzer means is that woman’s choice to accept pregnancy should not obliterate their personhood in the process. I agree, however, I found pregnancy could enhance the personal dignity of my womanhood.

Outlawing Pain

Schwyzer’s main point is that since pregnancy and delivery (whether vaginally or caesarean) hurts, forcing a woman to go through this painful (and he admits, worthy) process is horrific. He writes,  “We [he and his wife] both shudder, more than ever now, at the thought of compelling a woman to go through this process against her will.”

He believes the woman must choose this pain and that the child must be wanted.

He writes about abortion doctor’s work as ministry. He talks about abortions as a time for doctors to trust that women know what is best for their own bodies and the lives of their children.

I read that and think, wait, I believe in women, too. And I trust women.  Are some feminists hearing pro-lifers as people who do not trust women?

Challenge to Pro-Choice Advocates

Speaking as a woman who has endured labor without any pain medication I will agree with Schwyzer. Yes, it does hurt.

The litany of sacrifices on the part of the mother (birthing hurts, pregnancy is inconvenient, sleep-deprivation is unpleasant and disorienting and push-me-to-tears frustrating, the stitches after my second degree tear throb for days, the physical deprivation of no sex for weeks and weeks pushing me to wonder more than once, “Why, oh WHY didn’t God split up biological baby-care duties a bit more evenly? I mean he could at least have given men breasts so my poor ol’ body could heal with decent night’s rests instead of healing on 3 hours here and there snatched in between feedings?!!!”) is not to be minimized.

No way, Jose.

The fact that children are painful remains a point most pro-life advocates fail to really park on. The movie Juno, does a good job of showing part of the pain. I felt my insides quiver with participatory suffering when I watched Juno weep after she had given birth, her boyfriend crawling into bed next to her, his muddy running cleats on the hospital bed (an apt metaphor for the messiness of relationships, sex and children).

However, pro-choice advocates forget that as God created sex, one aspect (others being recreation and unity) is the potential for children.  I don’t think you can divorce sex from children, not without damaging both parties.

Perhaps pro-choice advocates feel the intensity of the pain and the amount of time pregnancy requires warrants the state remaining mum on the subject and letting a woman choose.

I disagree.

The law enforces painful things everyday, like the draft for military service, a requirement that isn’t anything as natural as the sex-baby connection.   The state enforces taxes (a painful process to say the least) for your entire life without an opt-out.   I’m not saying having a baby is the same as being drafted or paying taxes, but it does serve to prove that the state frequently requires it’s citizens to undergo pain (and in the case of the draft, to face death) without asking permission. Maybe we don’t like that the state has this power, we might even petition against it or think it unfair. But we certainly allow it this right, as our government.

So I don’t think the charge that pregnancy and birth (and child-rearing) is painful holds.

I have an inkling that woman would more easily undergo nine months of painful “invasion” of a fetus if pregnancy’s responsibilities ended there.  It’s the life of a person for years and years after the birth that has our adrenalin pumping with fearful anticipation. Will I be able to handle a child?

When I compare the glorious portability and minimal responsibility of carrying Finn as a fetus compared with caring for him as a baby, the pregnancy part was a breeze.

During pregnancy I slept long and well. I easily coordinated elaborate outfits with accessories and make-up.  I worked out or spend hours reading and writing without leaking milk.  Then I had a baby.

It’s not merely the pregnancy that women must count as a cost, it’s the life after the birth.

I believe more women would refuse an abortion if they could serve nine months and be done with it.  It’s not the pain of the nine months; it is the idea of a life to be responsible for, to be guilty about, to wonder as to the painful, happy, fruitful or fruitless future of your offspring.

Cleaning the Slate?

Perhaps the single most provocative offering of abortion is a promise that abortion can help you wipe the slate clean. This is an offer too tempting to refuse when you are faced with life as you know it ending (how will you raise a teenager in this world?) or facing the idea that through the “out” of adoption someone else will raise your teenager in this world (To better understand a woman’s feelings  before terminating her pregnancy read an example at “Choosing Not to Keep the Baby” note the comments – most striking to me is how no friends rallied behind this young women to help her raise her unplanned child – this a problem I’ve heard of time and again with the friends I know who have walked into abortion clinics by themselves… it is at root a problem with all of us – How many of you have helped an unwed mother raise an unwanted child? – understanding how we all play a part in abortion deserves another post).

But back to the idea that pain should not be demanded out of women unless they choose it, I don’t see the precedent in any other area. Avoiding our own pain has never been an adequate reason to extinguish another life.  As the Dread Pirate Roberts of The Princess Bride says, “Life is pain, your highness. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.”

We know the laws of nature require pain if we choose to disregard them. If we choose to run a race, we will face the pain of conditioning. If we choose to love we face the pain of vulnerability, rejection, fragility and death. If we choose to make love when we’re not ready in some (even small) capacity to become a vessel for a child, then we face the pain of dashed plans, the inconvenience and pain of either a baby or an abortion.

Abortion and Sin

Living east of Eden, sin is it’s own punishment.

So we must ask yourselves, is abortion sin? Let’s simply define sin as missing the mark or twisting the good.

If abortion is sin, I’m less concerned with making abortion illegal.

If abortion is missing the mark I believe the costs of a woman enduring an abortion provides a strong enough punishment without heaping on a murder charge, silence out of shame and isolation to boot.

It seems most likely, from my limited experience with two pregnancies, that women know they are taking away life or a form of life when they terminate their pregnancies. I’m not saying they admit it, though some do (see Naomi Wolf’s “Our Bodies, Our Souls“)

My concern is that pro-choice advocates remain intent upon driving a wedge between procreation and sex. I don’t think this is appropriately human, nor that God created our bodies and souls to permanently cleave sex away from procreation.

Conundrum

It seems to me that the difference between terminating an eleven week old fetus and terminating a thirty week old fetus is significant and worth thinking about.   I’ve heard pro-life advocates say there is no difference in value.

I do not intend to minimize the grief of losing a child at any age (read my own grief over the loss of our six week old fetus here). However, I have an intuitive sense after losing a six week old fetus and facing the possibility of losing a week old baby (read here) that you feel like you’re losing more with a week old baby.

Now here is where pro-choice advocates need to tread carefully. Does the intuition that a baby at one week is more valuable than a fetus at 6 weeks find valid justification? I mean do my intuitions match reality, do they find justification in Scripture, in natural law, in God’s law?  Are there reasons to think of one as more valuable than another?  Is if fair to fault a smaller, less developed form of human life as less valuable than a bigger, more developed form? Is it merely because a baby looks more like a baby as it gets older that I feel the loss greater?

Now, here’s the strange conundrum, the dependency of a one week old baby feels greater, more invasive, more sobering and commanding than the dependency of a five week old fetus.  But we protect the life of a baby once it’s outside the womb, no matter how inconvenient, painful, difficult that life might be to mother, to father, to society.

Thoughts? Concerns? Ideas?

This idea has been unpopular for hundreds (maybe even thousands) of years.  That men need women isn’t very popular in the parenting philosophy that says little boys can be ruined by their mothers. Don’t want to be “overclose” right?  Just think about it this way, is it positive or negative to call a girl  “Daddy’s Little Girl”?

Okay, now what if you call a boy  “Momma’s Boy”?

I particularly enjoyed our Question and Answer time with the students.  Such great questions that have helped me think more.

One moment in the talk we were discussing the different ways men and women approach the world given the simple difference of their bodies. Due to my body’s shape, capabilities, size, strength I will walk down the street, shop, smile and speak differently than a man.

I told the audience that because we have a two month old baby my mind is constantly considering when I will be needed to nurse Finn, even while I’m juggling the next point in my talk and the powerpoint.

The men looked at Dale with curiosity when I said, “Dale isn’t thinking about any of that!”

“Nope!” he responded with a smile. The audience burst into laughter.

“But that is the challenge of being a woman,” I said, after they all quieted. “I have to press into God to ask him to show me the privilege and beauty of having a body that must be interrupted in a speaking event to feed my son.”

The women stared at me intently. Their eyes made me want to explore this privilege here with you.

I carried Finn onstage in my *Lille Baby when I spoke alongside Dale. The audience numbered about 2000, which is enough to stream adrenalin through my body.

But I wanted to “wear” Finn for several reasons.

1-      I believe our talks benefit from me at Dale’s side and I do not want to give up on this benefit for our non-profit, but most significantly for our audiences, simply because we have a baby.

2-      The absence of children from most places of business, religion, politics feels unnatural and in the end harmful to me. Have you noticed that we put children away?  We do not see Senators or CEOs or models or professors with their baby WHILE WORKING, at least not very often.  I’m reminded of a wonderful woman, Prime Minister of Pakistan, Benazier Bhutto, who raised three children as she shepherded her country.  From Claudia Preifus’ article in the New York Times, May 13, 1994,

“In all the world there cannot be another plane quite like the official jet of Bhutto. The front section is a kind of office-cum-nursery, jammed with toys, briefcases, newspapers, nannies and Bhutto’s children, Bilawal, 5, Bakhtawar, 4, and Asifa, 1.  In the main cabin, political advisors, security commandos and generals are keeping an eye on the Prime Minister they cautiously support.

“Hello gentlemen . . . Hello, babies,” Bhutto calls as she enters the plane.  It is both jarring and interesting to see soldiers saluting a woman with children on her lap.”

Children were permitted alongside this woman even as she accessed places of power.

3-      Finn is at an age where he needs me, for food, for hydration, for warmth, for shelter, for affection.  He also needs his father for all of these (except the food/hydration).  To hold my son on my body while I speak indicates, I hope, my willingness to meet his needs even while others may not understand. In planning to babywear Finn, the chapel coordinator (a female student) was surprised but enthusiastic. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a speaker carry a baby on stage,” she said.  That increased my nervousness, but made me all the more determined.

4-      Even if it is easier to have someone watch Finn, so I can focus on my work, the task of inviting Finn’s distraction while attempting to speak is an example Dale and I could not pass up. We want the women and men in the audience (many future mothers and fathers) to consider the example of inviting a child into your work, into the public sphere. Because if more women were permitted, even encouraged to invite their children to work, the inequalities between men and women would begin to seriously evaporate.  It is not marriage that hinders women from producing and enjoying careers, it is the insistence that children cannot be a part of real work, real life, real business. That is a myth I would like to challenge, in the few years and few opportunities I’m given.  Babies are part of real life, they are as real as our own existence, and, as my wise cousin once said in response to my fears that Finn would wake up and interrupt,

“You should be fine, and if he does wake up and make noise, that is just part of real life!  So you are really being real about your life as a mom.”

Bravo!

5-      I do not see women and children side-lined in God’s program in Scripture. Instead, I see God excited about inviting children near him, even when the all-business agenda of his followers begged to differ.  As Jesus said, “Permit the little children to come to me.”  I find it strange that the founder of Christianity was so pro- children (even with their interruptions) but his followers are intent on assigning children to the nursery during our serious Sunday morning programmes.

In a wonderful new book celebrating Men and Women’s difference, Alice von Hildebrand writes,

“Not only are man and woman made for each other, not only do their complement each other, but, above all, their differences (which are not limited to the biological sphere) enable them to be partners with God Himself in creating new human persons” (p. 4 Man and Woman: a Divine Invention).

This mutual interdependence is not something easy to explain or to live.  In a conversation with a Christian feminist last week, she suggested that true interdependence, making room for me to depend on you, while you make room to depend on me, cannot happen unless we are first independent.

I’m curious about what you think. 

Why do men and women find it so difficult to depend on each other?

Must we first learn independence to interdepend?

*For a wonderful site on all the benefits and styles of baby-wearing, as well as the many options of baby-wearing carriers see my cousin’s site: www.frogmama.com

“Kimberly Munley, a 35-year-old police officer, happened to be nearby, waiting for her squad car to get a tune-up, when she heard the commotion. She raced to the scene . . . As she rounded a corner, she saw Maj. Hasan chasing a wounded soldier through an open courtyard. He looked as though he was trying to “finish off” the wounded soldier, Mr. Medley said.

“He looked extremely focused,” said Francisco De La Serna, a 23-year-old medic who had fled the building and was watching the same scene unfold from a hiding spot across the street.

Ms. Munley’s first shot missed Maj. Hasan. He spun to face her and began charging, Mr. Medley said.

The time was 1:27 p.m., just four minutes after the initial 911 call.

Authorities haven’t said precisely how many shots were fired during the running gun battle between Maj. Hasan and Ms. Munley. But one of her shots hit Mr. Hasan in the torso, knocking him to the ground. With that, officials say, she quite likely prevented more injuries or deaths on the base.

Ms. Munley took two bullets to her legs. Both entered her left thigh, ripped through the flesh and lodged in her right thigh. She also received a minor wound to the right wrist.

Specialist De La Serna, the medic hiding across the street, sprinted to the scene as the shooting stopped and put a tourniquet on Ms. Munley, who was fading in and out of consciousness, he said. Then he moved to Maj. Hasan, who had a gunshot wound through the chest.

Ms. Munley underwent surgery Thursday night to halt bleeding and faces at least two more operations to remove the bullets in her thigh.” quoted from The Wall Street Journal, to read more from this article or from another in the WSJ “Lethal Rampage at Fort Hood.”

In these pictures of Major Hasan and Ms. Munley, both man and woman involved in this gunfight look like kind people. And yet they each took their weapons out to kill one another. This forces me to note an unsettling and significant fact of our fallen world.

When Sergeant Kimberly Munley pulled out her handgun to shoot Maj. Malik Nadal Hasan, a man who had killed 13 and wounded 30, she put herself, a woman, against a man. Without her gun she could not have matched his strength, but with her sidearm she was capable of meeting his aggression.

Ms. Munley makes me think of the unnecessary losses when a man pits his strength against a woman’s vulnerability and dominates. Makes me think of the students at Virginia Tech. What if one female student at Virginia Tech, with the same tenacity to run after the assassin as Munley had been permitted to carry concealed weapons? Makes me think of my neighbor whose close friend was hunted down at her own home by a serial murderer and despite a long, physical struggle against him, eventually decapitated in her own home. What if she had had been carrying a concealed weapon and knew how to use it?

What if women were encouraged to know how to use guns, instead of our society relegating guns to violent, dangerous, testosterone-fueled obsessive types?

Munley laid her own life in harm’s way to protect those who could no longer protect themselves. She was equipped not only with a weapon but with the courage and skills to protect herself and others. She bent stereotypes and for that I am deeply grateful. I feel my heart quake in me when I think of her running toward Maj. Hasan, drawing his fire away from the wounded. I’m sure she knew she might not come through alive. Still, because she was armed, a woman’s strength was on equal ground with a violent man’s. It surprises me that there are not more feminist’s blogs commenting on the need for women to carry a concealed weapon.

Ms. Munley’s heroism and willingness to attack an aggressor, rather than run, speaks to the power a sidearm when held by a capable woman in battle. Because she was trained and armed she was a force powerful enough to stop Maj Hasan.

Upon moving to the woods, a remote region in the Rocky Mountains, Dale and I both filed for concealed carry licenses. We had to take a three hour safety class and then endure fingerprinting and knowing we’re under suspicion (you should hear some of our big-city friends when they find out) for the offense of wanting to exercise our Constitutional right (something I thought only fanatical, kooky people every wanted) of carrying our own guns.

Last month we took a handgun defensive training class, in Eastern Oregon at Thunder Ranch. Their goal, “Our primary concern is that people who come to Thunder Ranch® leave with a peace of mind in their heart and head. We strongly hope that they never have to use any of the skills or things learned here for the defense of themselves or their family, but if they do, we want this knowledge to be used confidently and with great vigor.“

Still, I was, frankly, afraid. I didn’t know my 40 caliber pistol all that well, I was nervous about making a mistake with so much risk at stake and the gun is just LOUD and forceful. Besides, I was 16 weeks pregnant. Was this a wise thing to do? My doctor, surprised at my request, said the baby would be fine and to be careful. If I learned anything at Thunder Ranch it was awe for the power of a gun. We NEVER allowed the gun to point at something we did not want to destroy. I’m more careful now than I was before, but I’m also a heck of a lot more accurate. Dale says he’s glad to have me at his side.

Our instruction, Clint Smith, marine corps veteran and police officer, nationally known for training SWAT teams in urban defense, and his wife and one other assistant, helped me and 11 others learn the importance of steady, careful gun drawing, shooting, re-loading, clearing jams and re-holstering. We fired over 800 rounds in 3 days. And I’ve never met a more conscientious, respectful group of strangers. None of them fit the stereotypes of gun-carrying fanatics. You can, by the way take classes like these all over the nation, but Clint’s record of safety (he’s had NO accidents and 19,000 clients) and professionalism motivated us to make the trip.

The cost of the class was severe, not only in dollars, but also in energy, strain and fatigue. By the end of each day my pregnant belly, around which I could barely squeeze my belt to hold my holster, were aching. While the class included several couples, I was the only pregnant woman. By the second day I had rubbed my fingers raw with clicking the safety on and off of my handgun. It was very cold most the time (watch the video below to see our breath in the air as we practice a leaning drill to know how to be off balance and shoot around corner). We could not wear gloves, so we would know how the gun felt without any protection. I felt every bump and button, I know how to load and ask for “Cover!” while I’m vulnerable. And Dale and I know how to work as a team. The ear protection helped, but the repetition of drawing, firing, belting out verbal commands to “Get Away” or “Stop” combined with the ceaseless vigilance, left me utterly exhausted at the end of each day. Then we had to pick up all our shells, carefully unload, clean our equipment, then finally off to find some dinner.

While men and their guns has grown into a stereotype mixed with red-necks and caricatures of violence, I know many gun-carrying men (many who attended the class at Thunder Ranch) and women who carry their weapons with humility, respect and utmost safety. I would trust them to defend me. I’m grateful for their willingness to carry a dangerous weapon so others might be safe. So as I move on to catch up with the rest of my life, as I read the week 24 update on my pregnancy, as I think of protecting the lives of those nearest to me, I’m grateful to have a husband who wanted to educate me about concealed carry.

And in light of the sobering murders committed at Fort Hood, I want to salute the women across the country today who bare the disapproval, misunderstanding and mockery of carrying a sidearm, not only for their own safety, but for the love of their fellow men and women.

To read more about the Biblical justification for carrying a handgun see this helpful blog: The Cornered Cat

“Kimberly Munley, a 35-year-old police officer, happened to be nearby, waiting for her squad car to get a tune-up, when she heard the commotion. She raced to the scene . . . As she rounded a corner, she saw Maj. Hasan chasing a wounded soldier through an open courtyard. He looked as though he was trying to “finish off” the wounded soldier, Mr. Medley said.

“He looked extremely focused,” said Francisco De La Serna, a 23-year-old medic who had fled the building and was watching the same scene unfold from a hiding spot across the street.

Ms. Munley’s first shot missed Maj. Hasan. He spun to face her and began charging, Mr. Medley said.

The time was 1:27 p.m., just four minutes after the initial 911 call.

Authorities haven’t said precisely how many shots were fired during the running gun battle between Maj. Hasan and Ms. Munley. But one of her shots hit Mr. Hasan in the torso, knocking him to the ground. With that, officials say, she quite likely prevented more injuries or deaths on the base.

Ms. Munley took two bullets to her legs. Both entered her left thigh, ripped through the flesh and lodged in her right thigh. She also received a minor wound to the right wrist.

Specialist De La Serna, the medic hiding across the street, sprinted to the scene as the shooting stopped and put a tourniquet on Ms. Munley, who was fading in and out of consciousness, he said. Then he moved to Maj. Hasan, who had a gunshot wound through the chest.

Ms. Munley underwent surgery Thursday night to halt bleeding and faces at least two more operations to remove the bullets in her thigh.” quoted from The Wall Street Journal, to read more from this article or from another in the WSJ “Lethal Rampage at Fort Hood.”

In these pictures of Major Hasan and Ms. Munley, both man and woman involved in this gunfight look like kind people. And yet they each took their weapons out to kill one another. This forces me to note an unsettling and significant fact of our fallen world.

When Sergeant Kimberly Munley pulled out her handgun to shoot Maj. Malik Nadal Hasan, a man who had killed 13 and wounded 30, she put herself, a woman, against a man. Without her gun she could not have matched his strength, but with her sidearm she was capable of meeting his aggression.

Ms. Munley makes me think of the unnecessary losses when a man pits his strength against a woman’s vulnerability and dominates. Makes me think of the students at Virginia Tech. What if one female student at Virginia Tech, with the same tenacity to run after the assassin as Munley had been permitted to carry concealed weapons? Makes me think of my neighbor whose close friend was hunted down at her own home by a serial murderer and despite a long, physical struggle against him, eventually decapitated in her own home. What if she had had been carrying a concealed weapon and knew how to use it?

What if women were encouraged to know how to use guns, instead of our society relegating guns to violent, dangerous, testosterone-fueled obsessive types?

Munley laid her own life in harm’s way to protect those who could no longer protect themselves. She was equipped not only with a weapon but with the courage and skills to protect herself and others. She bent stereotypes and for that I am deeply grateful. I feel my heart quake in me when I think of her running toward Maj. Hasan, drawing his fire away from the wounded. I’m sure she knew she might not come through alive. Still, because she was armed, a woman’s strength was on equal ground with a violent man’s. It surprises me that there are not more feminist’s blogs commenting on the need for women to carry a concealed weapon.

Ms. Munley’s heroism and willingness to attack an aggressor, rather than run, speaks to the power a sidearm when held by a capable woman in battle. Because she was trained and armed she was a force powerful enough to stop Maj Hasan.

Upon moving to the woods, a remote region in the Rocky Mountains, Dale and I both filed for concealed carry licenses. We had to take a three hour safety class and then endure fingerprinting and knowing we’re under suspicion (you should hear some of our big-city friends when they find out) for the offense of wanting to exercise our Constitutional right (something I thought only fanatical, kooky people every wanted) of carrying our own guns.

Last month we took a handgun defensive training class, in Eastern Oregon at Thunder Ranch. Their goal, “Our primary concern is that people who come to Thunder Ranch® leave with a peace of mind in their heart and head. We strongly hope that they never have to use any of the skills or things learned here for the defense of themselves or their family, but if they do, we want this knowledge to be used confidently and with great vigor.“

Still, I was, frankly, afraid. I didn’t know my 40 caliber pistol all that well, I was nervous about making a mistake with so much risk at stake and the gun is just LOUD and forceful. Besides, I was 16 weeks pregnant. Was this a wise thing to do? My doctor, surprised at my request, said the baby would be fine and to be careful. If I learned anything at Thunder Ranch it was awe for the power of a gun. We NEVER allowed the gun to point at something we did not want to destroy. I’m more careful now than I was before, but I’m also a heck of a lot more accurate. Dale says he’s glad to have me at his side.

Our instruction, Clint Smith, marine corps veteran and police officer, nationally known for training SWAT teams in urban defense, and his wife and one other assistant, helped me and 11 others learn the importance of steady, careful gun drawing, shooting, re-loading, clearing jams and re-holstering. We fired over 800 rounds in 3 days. And I’ve never met a more conscientious, respectful group of strangers. None of them fit the stereotypes of gun-carrying fanatics. You can, by the way take classes like these all over the nation, but Clint’s record of safety (he’s had NO accidents and 19,000 clients) and professionalism motivated us to make the trip.

The cost of the class was severe, not only in dollars, but also in energy, strain and fatigue. By the end of each day my pregnant belly, around which I could barely squeeze my belt to hold my holster, were aching. While the class included several couples, I was the only pregnant woman. By the second day I had rubbed my fingers raw with clicking the safety on and off of my handgun. It was very cold most the time (watch the video below to see our breath in the air as we practice a leaning drill to know how to be off balance and shoot around corner). We could not wear gloves, so we would know how the gun felt without any protection. I felt every bump and button, I know how to load and ask for “Cover!” while I’m vulnerable. And Dale and I know how to work as a team. The ear protection helped, but the repetition of drawing, firing, belting out verbal commands to “Get Away” or “Stop” combined with the ceaseless vigilance, left me utterly exhausted at the end of each day. Then we had to pick up all our shells, carefully unload, clean our equipment, then finally off to find some dinner.

While men and their guns has grown into a stereotype mixed with red-necks and caricatures of violence, I know many gun-carrying men (many who attended the class at Thunder Ranch) and women who carry their weapons with humility, respect and utmost safety. I would trust them to defend me. I’m grateful for their willingness to carry a dangerous weapon so others might be safe. So as I move on to catch up with the rest of my life, as I read the week 24 update on my pregnancy, as I think of protecting the lives of those nearest to me, I’m grateful to have a husband who wanted to educate me about concealed carry.

And in light of the sobering murders committed at Fort Hood, I want to salute the women across the country today who bare the disapproval, misunderstanding and mockery of carrying a sidearm, not only for their own safety, but for the love of their fellow men and women.

To read more about the Biblical justification for carrying a handgun see this helpful blog: The Cornered Cat

“Kimberly Munley, a 35-year-old police officer, happened to be nearby, waiting for her squad car to get a tune-up, when she heard the commotion. She raced to the scene . . . As she rounded a corner, she saw Maj. Hasan chasing a wounded soldier through an open courtyard. He looked as though he was trying to “finish off” the wounded soldier, Mr. Medley said.

“He looked extremely focused,” said Francisco De La Serna, a 23-year-old medic who had fled the building and was watching the same scene unfold from a hiding spot across the street.

Ms. Munley’s first shot missed Maj. Hasan. He spun to face her and began charging, Mr. Medley said.

The time was 1:27 p.m., just four minutes after the initial 911 call.

Authorities haven’t said precisely how many shots were fired during the running gun battle between Maj. Hasan and Ms. Munley. But one of her shots hit Mr. Hasan in the torso, knocking him to the ground. With that, officials say, she quite likely prevented more injuries or deaths on the base.

Ms. Munley took two bullets to her legs. Both entered her left thigh, ripped through the flesh and lodged in her right thigh. She also received a minor wound to the right wrist.

Specialist De La Serna, the medic hiding across the street, sprinted to the scene as the shooting stopped and put a tourniquet on Ms. Munley, who was fading in and out of consciousness, he said. Then he moved to Maj. Hasan, who had a gunshot wound through the chest.

Ms. Munley underwent surgery Thursday night to halt bleeding and faces at least two more operations to remove the bullets in her thigh.” quoted from The Wall Street Journal, to read more from this article or from another in the WSJ “Lethal Rampage at Fort Hood.”

In these pictures of Major Hasan and Ms. Munley, both man and woman involved in this gunfight look like kind people. And yet they each took their weapons out to kill one another. This forces me to note an unsettling and significant fact of our fallen world.

When Sergeant Kimberly Munley pulled out her handgun to shoot Maj. Malik Nadal Hasan, a man who had killed 13 and wounded 30, she put herself, a woman, against a man. Without her gun she could not have matched his strength, but with her sidearm she was capable of meeting his aggression.

Ms. Munley makes me think of the unnecessary losses when a man pits his strength against a woman’s vulnerability and dominates. Makes me think of the students at Virginia Tech. What if one female student at Virginia Tech, with the same tenacity to run after the assassin as Munley had been permitted to carry concealed weapons? Makes me think of my neighbor whose close friend was hunted down at her own home by a serial murderer and despite a long, physical struggle against him, eventually decapitated in her own home. What if she had had been carrying a concealed weapon and knew how to use it?

What if women were encouraged to know how to use guns, instead of our society relegating guns to violent, dangerous, testosterone-fueled obsessive types?

Munley laid her own life in harm’s way to protect those who could no longer protect themselves. She was equipped not only with a weapon but with the courage and skills to protect herself and others. She bent stereotypes and for that I am deeply grateful. I feel my heart quake in me when I think of her running toward Maj. Hasan, drawing his fire away from the wounded. I’m sure she knew she might not come through alive. Still, because she was armed, a woman’s strength was on equal ground with a violent man’s. It surprises me that there are not more feminist’s blogs commenting on the need for women to carry a concealed weapon.

Ms. Munley’s heroism and willingness to attack an aggressor, rather than run, speaks to the power a sidearm when held by a capable woman in battle. Because she was trained and armed she was a force powerful enough to stop Maj Hasan.

Upon moving to the woods, a remote region in the Rocky Mountains, Dale and I both filed for concealed carry licenses. We had to take a three hour safety class and then endure fingerprinting and knowing we’re under suspicion (you should hear some of our big-city friends when they find out) for the offense of wanting to exercise our Constitutional right (something I thought only fanatical, kooky people every wanted) of carrying our own guns.

Last month we took a handgun defensive training class, in Eastern Oregon at Thunder Ranch. Their goal, “Our primary concern is that people who come to Thunder Ranch® leave with a peace of mind in their heart and head. We strongly hope that they never have to use any of the skills or things learned here for the defense of themselves or their family, but if they do, we want this knowledge to be used confidently and with great vigor.“

Still, I was, frankly, afraid. I didn’t know my 40 caliber pistol all that well, I was nervous about making a mistake with so much risk at stake and the gun is just LOUD and forceful. Besides, I was 16 weeks pregnant. Was this a wise thing to do? My doctor, surprised at my request, said the baby would be fine and to be careful. If I learned anything at Thunder Ranch it was awe for the power of a gun. We NEVER allowed the gun to point at something we did not want to destroy. I’m more careful now than I was before, but I’m also a heck of a lot more accurate. Dale says he’s glad to have me at his side.

Our instruction, Clint Smith, marine corps veteran and police officer, nationally known for training SWAT teams in urban defense, and his wife and one other assistant, helped me and 11 others learn the importance of steady, careful gun drawing, shooting, re-loading, clearing jams and re-holstering. We fired over 800 rounds in 3 days. And I’ve never met a more conscientious, respectful group of strangers. None of them fit the stereotypes of gun-carrying fanatics. You can, by the way take classes like these all over the nation, but Clint’s record of safety (he’s had NO accidents and 19,000 clients) and professionalism motivated us to make the trip.

The cost of the class was severe, not only in dollars, but also in energy, strain and fatigue. By the end of each day my pregnant belly, around which I could barely squeeze my belt to hold my holster, were aching. While the class included several couples, I was the only pregnant woman. By the second day I had rubbed my fingers raw with clicking the safety on and off of my handgun. It was very cold most the time (watch the video below to see our breath in the air as we practice a leaning drill to know how to be off balance and shoot around corner). We could not wear gloves, so we would know how the gun felt without any protection. I felt every bump and button, I know how to load and ask for “Cover!” while I’m vulnerable. And Dale and I know how to work as a team. The ear protection helped, but the repetition of drawing, firing, belting out verbal commands to “Get Away” or “Stop” combined with the ceaseless vigilance, left me utterly exhausted at the end of each day. Then we had to pick up all our shells, carefully unload, clean our equipment, then finally off to find some dinner.

While men and their guns has grown into a stereotype mixed with red-necks and caricatures of violence, I know many gun-carrying men (many who attended the class at Thunder Ranch) and women who carry their weapons with humility, respect and utmost safety. I would trust them to defend me. I’m grateful for their willingness to carry a dangerous weapon so others might be safe. So as I move on to catch up with the rest of my life, as I read the week 24 update on my pregnancy, as I think of protecting the lives of those nearest to me, I’m grateful to have a husband who wanted to educate me about concealed carry.

And in light of the sobering murders committed at Fort Hood, I want to salute the women across the country today who bare the disapproval, misunderstanding and mockery of carrying a sidearm, not only for their own safety, but for the love of their fellow men and women.

To read more about the Biblical justification for carrying a handgun see this helpful blog: The Cornered Cat

“Kimberly Munley, a 35-year-old police officer, happened to be nearby, waiting for her squad car to get a tune-up, when she heard the commotion. She raced to the scene . . . As she rounded a corner, she saw Maj. Hasan chasing a wounded soldier through an open courtyard. He looked as though he was trying to “finish off” the wounded soldier, Mr. Medley said.

“He looked extremely focused,” said Francisco De La Serna, a 23-year-old medic who had fled the building and was watching the same scene unfold from a hiding spot across the street.

Ms. Munley’s first shot missed Maj. Hasan. He spun to face her and began charging, Mr. Medley said.

The time was 1:27 p.m., just four minutes after the initial 911 call.

Authorities haven’t said precisely how many shots were fired during the running gun battle between Maj. Hasan and Ms. Munley. But one of her shots hit Mr. Hasan in the torso, knocking him to the ground. With that, officials say, she quite likely prevented more injuries or deaths on the base.

Ms. Munley took two bullets to her legs. Both entered her left thigh, ripped through the flesh and lodged in her right thigh. She also received a minor wound to the right wrist.

Specialist De La Serna, the medic hiding across the street, sprinted to the scene as the shooting stopped and put a tourniquet on Ms. Munley, who was fading in and out of consciousness, he said. Then he moved to Maj. Hasan, who had a gunshot wound through the chest.

Ms. Munley underwent surgery Thursday night to halt bleeding and faces at least two more operations to remove the bullets in her thigh.” quoted from The Wall Street Journal, to read more from this article or from another in the WSJ “Lethal Rampage at Fort Hood.”

In these pictures of Major Hasan and Ms. Munley, both man and woman involved in this gunfight look like kind people. And yet they each took their weapons out to kill one another. This forces me to note an unsettling and significant fact of our fallen world.

When Sergeant Kimberly Munley pulled out her handgun to shoot Maj. Malik Nadal Hasan, a man who had killed 13 and wounded 30, she put herself, a woman, against a man. Without her gun she could not have matched his strength, but with her sidearm she was capable of meeting his aggression.

Ms. Munley makes me think of the unnecessary losses when a man pits his strength against a woman’s vulnerability and dominates. Makes me think of the students at Virginia Tech. What if one female student at Virginia Tech, with the same tenacity to run after the assassin as Munley had been permitted to carry concealed weapons? Makes me think of my neighbor whose close friend was hunted down at her own home by a serial murderer and despite a long, physical struggle against him, eventually decapitated in her own home. What if she had had been carrying a concealed weapon and knew how to use it?

What if women were encouraged to know how to use guns, instead of our society relegating guns to violent, dangerous, testosterone-fueled obsessive types?

Munley laid her own life in harm’s way to protect those who could no longer protect themselves. She was equipped not only with a weapon but with the courage and skills to protect herself and others. She bent stereotypes and for that I am deeply grateful. I feel my heart quake in me when I think of her running toward Maj. Hasan, drawing his fire away from the wounded. I’m sure she knew she might not come through alive. Still, because she was armed, a woman’s strength was on equal ground with a violent man’s. It surprises me that there are not more feminist’s blogs commenting on the need for women to carry a concealed weapon.

Ms. Munley’s heroism and willingness to attack an aggressor, rather than run, speaks to the power a sidearm when held by a capable woman in battle. Because she was trained and armed she was a force powerful enough to stop Maj Hasan.

Upon moving to the woods, a remote region in the Rocky Mountains, Dale and I both filed for concealed carry licenses. We had to take a three hour safety class and then endure fingerprinting and knowing we’re under suspicion (you should hear some of our big-city friends when they find out) for the offense of wanting to exercise our Constitutional right (something I thought only fanatical, kooky people every wanted) of carrying our own guns.

Last month we took a handgun defensive training class, in Eastern Oregon at Thunder Ranch. Their goal, “Our primary concern is that people who come to Thunder Ranch® leave with a peace of mind in their heart and head. We strongly hope that they never have to use any of the skills or things learned here for the defense of themselves or their family, but if they do, we want this knowledge to be used confidently and with great vigor.“

Still, I was, frankly, afraid. I didn’t know my 40 caliber pistol all that well, I was nervous about making a mistake with so much risk at stake and the gun is just LOUD and forceful. Besides, I was 16 weeks pregnant. Was this a wise thing to do? My doctor, surprised at my request, said the baby would be fine and to be careful. If I learned anything at Thunder Ranch it was awe for the power of a gun. We NEVER allowed the gun to point at something we did not want to destroy. I’m more careful now than I was before, but I’m also a heck of a lot more accurate. Dale says he’s glad to have me at his side.

Our instruction, Clint Smith, marine corps veteran and police officer, nationally known for training SWAT teams in urban defense, and his wife and one other assistant, helped me and 11 others learn the importance of steady, careful gun drawing, shooting, re-loading, clearing jams and re-holstering. We fired over 800 rounds in 3 days. And I’ve never met a more conscientious, respectful group of strangers. None of them fit the stereotypes of gun-carrying fanatics. You can, by the way take classes like these all over the nation, but Clint’s record of safety (he’s had NO accidents and 19,000 clients) and professionalism motivated us to make the trip.

The cost of the class was severe, not only in dollars, but also in energy, strain and fatigue. By the end of each day my pregnant belly, around which I could barely squeeze my belt to hold my holster, were aching. While the class included several couples, I was the only pregnant woman. By the second day I had rubbed my fingers raw with clicking the safety on and off of my handgun. It was very cold most the time (watch the video below to see our breath in the air as we practice a leaning drill to know how to be off balance and shoot around corner). We could not wear gloves, so we would know how the gun felt without any protection. I felt every bump and button, I know how to load and ask for “Cover!” while I’m vulnerable. And Dale and I know how to work as a team. The ear protection helped, but the repetition of drawing, firing, belting out verbal commands to “Get Away” or “Stop” combined with the ceaseless vigilance, left me utterly exhausted at the end of each day. Then we had to pick up all our shells, carefully unload, clean our equipment, then finally off to find some dinner.

While men and their guns has grown into a stereotype mixed with red-necks and caricatures of violence, I know many gun-carrying men (many who attended the class at Thunder Ranch) and women who carry their weapons with humility, respect and utmost safety. I would trust them to defend me. I’m grateful for their willingness to carry a dangerous weapon so others might be safe. So as I move on to catch up with the rest of my life, as I read the week 24 update on my pregnancy, as I think of protecting the lives of those nearest to me, I’m grateful to have a husband who wanted to educate me about concealed carry.

And in light of the sobering murders committed at Fort Hood, I want to salute the women across the country today who bare the disapproval, misunderstanding and mockery of carrying a sidearm, not only for their own safety, but for the love of their fellow men and women.

To read more about the Biblical justification for carrying a handgun see this helpful blog: The Cornered Cat

“Kimberly Munley, a 35-year-old police officer, happened to be nearby, waiting for her squad car to get a tune-up, when she heard the commotion. She raced to the scene . . . As she rounded a corner, she saw Maj. Hasan chasing a wounded soldier through an open courtyard. He looked as though he was trying to “finish off” the wounded soldier, Mr. Medley said.

“He looked extremely focused,” said Francisco De La Serna, a 23-year-old medic who had fled the building and was watching the same scene unfold from a hiding spot across the street.

Ms. Munley’s first shot missed Maj. Hasan. He spun to face her and began charging, Mr. Medley said.

The time was 1:27 p.m., just four minutes after the initial 911 call.

Authorities haven’t said precisely how many shots were fired during the running gun battle between Maj. Hasan and Ms. Munley. But one of her shots hit Mr. Hasan in the torso, knocking him to the ground. With that, officials say, she quite likely prevented more injuries or deaths on the base.

Ms. Munley took two bullets to her legs. Both entered her left thigh, ripped through the flesh and lodged in her right thigh. She also received a minor wound to the right wrist.

Specialist De La Serna, the medic hiding across the street, sprinted to the scene as the shooting stopped and put a tourniquet on Ms. Munley, who was fading in and out of consciousness, he said. Then he moved to Maj. Hasan, who had a gunshot wound through the chest.

Ms. Munley underwent surgery Thursday night to halt bleeding and faces at least two more operations to remove the bullets in her thigh.” quoted from The Wall Street Journal, to read more from this article or from another in the WSJ “Lethal Rampage at Fort Hood.”

In these pictures of Major Hasan and Ms. Munley, both man and woman involved in this gunfight look like kind people. And yet they each took their weapons out to kill one another. This forces me to note an unsettling and significant fact of our fallen world.

When Sergeant Kimberly Munley pulled out her handgun to shoot Maj. Malik Nadal Hasan, a man who had killed 13 and wounded 30, she put herself, a woman, against a man. Without her gun she could not have matched his strength, but with her sidearm she was capable of meeting his aggression.

Ms. Munley makes me think of the unnecessary losses when a man pits his strength against a woman’s vulnerability and dominates. Makes me think of the students at Virginia Tech. What if one female student at Virginia Tech, with the same tenacity to run after the assassin as Munley had been permitted to carry concealed weapons? Makes me think of my neighbor whose close friend was hunted down at her own home by a serial murderer and despite a long, physical struggle against him, eventually decapitated in her own home. What if she had had been carrying a concealed weapon and knew how to use it?

What if women were encouraged to know how to use guns, instead of our society relegating guns to violent, dangerous, testosterone-fueled obsessive types?

Munley laid her own life in harm’s way to protect those who could no longer protect themselves. She was equipped not only with a weapon but with the courage and skills to protect herself and others. She bent stereotypes and for that I am deeply grateful. I feel my heart quake in me when I think of her running toward Maj. Hasan, drawing his fire away from the wounded. I’m sure she knew she might not come through alive. Still, because she was armed, a woman’s strength was on equal ground with a violent man’s. It surprises me that there are not more feminist’s blogs commenting on the need for women to carry a concealed weapon.

Ms. Munley’s heroism and willingness to attack an aggressor, rather than run, speaks to the power a sidearm when held by a capable woman in battle. Because she was trained and armed she was a force powerful enough to stop Maj Hasan.

Upon moving to the woods, a remote region in the Rocky Mountains, Dale and I both filed for concealed carry licenses. We had to take a three hour safety class and then endure fingerprinting and knowing we’re under suspicion (you should hear some of our big-city friends when they find out) for the offense of wanting to exercise our Constitutional right (something I thought only fanatical, kooky people every wanted) of carrying our own guns.

Last month we took a handgun defensive training class, in Eastern Oregon at Thunder Ranch. Their goal, “Our primary concern is that people who come to Thunder Ranch® leave with a peace of mind in their heart and head. We strongly hope that they never have to use any of the skills or things learned here for the defense of themselves or their family, but if they do, we want this knowledge to be used confidently and with great vigor.“

Still, I was, frankly, afraid. I didn’t know my 40 caliber pistol all that well, I was nervous about making a mistake with so much risk at stake and the gun is just LOUD and forceful. Besides, I was 16 weeks pregnant. Was this a wise thing to do? My doctor, surprised at my request, said the baby would be fine and to be careful. If I learned anything at Thunder Ranch it was awe for the power of a gun. We NEVER allowed the gun to point at something we did not want to destroy. I’m more careful now than I was before, but I’m also a heck of a lot more accurate. Dale says he’s glad to have me at his side.

Our instruction, Clint Smith, marine corps veteran and police officer, nationally known for training SWAT teams in urban defense, and his wife and one other assistant, helped me and 11 others learn the importance of steady, careful gun drawing, shooting, re-loading, clearing jams and re-holstering. We fired over 800 rounds in 3 days. And I’ve never met a more conscientious, respectful group of strangers. None of them fit the stereotypes of gun-carrying fanatics. You can, by the way take classes like these all over the nation, but Clint’s record of safety (he’s had NO accidents and 19,000 clients) and professionalism motivated us to make the trip.

The cost of the class was severe, not only in dollars, but also in energy, strain and fatigue. By the end of each day my pregnant belly, around which I could barely squeeze my belt to hold my holster, were aching. While the class included several couples, I was the only pregnant woman. By the second day I had rubbed my fingers raw with clicking the safety on and off of my handgun. It was very cold most the time (watch the video below to see our breath in the air as we practice a leaning drill to know how to be off balance and shoot around corner). We could not wear gloves, so we would know how the gun felt without any protection. I felt every bump and button, I know how to load and ask for “Cover!” while I’m vulnerable. And Dale and I know how to work as a team. The ear protection helped, but the repetition of drawing, firing, belting out verbal commands to “Get Away” or “Stop” combined with the ceaseless vigilance, left me utterly exhausted at the end of each day. Then we had to pick up all our shells, carefully unload, clean our equipment, then finally off to find some dinner.

While men and their guns has grown into a stereotype mixed with red-necks and caricatures of violence, I know many gun-carrying men (many who attended the class at Thunder Ranch) and women who carry their weapons with humility, respect and utmost safety. I would trust them to defend me. I’m grateful for their willingness to carry a dangerous weapon so others might be safe. So as I move on to catch up with the rest of my life, as I read the week 24 update on my pregnancy, as I think of protecting the lives of those nearest to me, I’m grateful to have a husband who wanted to educate me about concealed carry.

And in light of the sobering murders committed at Fort Hood, I want to salute the women across the country today who bare the disapproval, misunderstanding and mockery of carrying a sidearm, not only for their own safety, but for the love of their fellow men and women.

To read more about the Biblical justification for carrying a handgun see this helpful blog: The Cornered Cat