How infertility gave me the gift of compassion about abortion

March 29, 2019

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I never thought I'd have any compassion or understanding for someone who has had an abortion.

The thought of killing a developing baby so offended everything in me, it was virtually impossible to imagine a scenario where I could ever get past it — especially the longer our battle with infertility dragged on. Wherever I go, I always seem to make friends with the atheists, the liberals and the outsiders, but I've never made room for those who fight on the side of abortion.

My wife Jennie and I have found a way to have joy and love despite the baby-shaped hole in our hearts, but we really do feel empty inside at times. And seeing that empty look in my loving wife's eyes was almost too much to bear. I've dealt with physical pain my whole life and I can handle a lot. What forced me to me knees day after day and night after night, however, was seeing my beautiful wife try to be strong for me.

Who doesn't love a good concert?Photo credit: Jon Boldt

I know we don't get everything we want in life, but the 14-year rollercoaster of infertility has been gut-wrenchingly painful, and not something I would wish on my worst enemy. Jennie is my best friend, and while I know the fires of life we have endured have forged a bond that will never be broken, it doesn't make it any easier — and man, do those fires get hot!

Some little boys dream of being an astronaut, some an athlete. Not me. All I ever wanted to be was a dad. Whether it was how to throw a baseball, how to cook the perfect steak or how to drive, I dreamt of the day I would be the one passing knowledge on to a little boy of my own.

I am the oldest of seven and I have three sisters, and the way they looked at my dad made me want to have a little girl of my own — I couldn't wait to be wrapped around her little finger. Just thinking of that now brings a tear to my eye and has me more determined than ever to not give up.

We just spent the last year consulting with more fertility specialists and trying different treatments, and ultimately, IVF. We found out a few weeks ago that our embryo that was created and transferred did not take, and the pregnancy never even got off the ground.

We had been so hopeful and thought for sure this was the time it would work. Needless to say, we were crushed. I tried to pick up the pieces as quickly as possible so I could be there for her, and I did, but it wasn't easy. Now we are facing what could be our final shot (unless we win the Powerball or something).

This is the moment we thought all our dreams came true.Photo credit: Jon Boldt

Throughout this process, I can't help but think of all the unwanted pregnancies versus how many people are struggling with infertility. It really started to upset me thinking about all the drug addicts and teenagers who were, as Barack Obama said, "punished with a baby." I found myself becoming angry, bitter and resentful.

Just a quick glance at the numbers is enough to make your head explode.

In 2017, there were about 880,000 abortions. At any given time, about 10 percent of women between the ages of 15-44 struggle to conceive — that is 6.1 million in total. Think about that. There are enough women who want to have a baby but can't to adopt the number of aborted babies nearly 7 times over. The cost of adoption is a whole other can of worms I won't get into, but if we could reform adoption, we could all but eliminate the need for any abortions.

Over the past couple of months, I've lost count of the number of shots I've administered to my wife. First, it was the hormones to aid in the egg retrieval process, and then it was to help the embryo to implant and continue to grow. Over that period of time, I was excited and hopeful, yet the nagging feelings of resentment wouldn't pass.

You don't want to know how much money is in this picture!Photo credit: Jon Boldt

I knew the only way to get over these feelings was through prayer and the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, so I went to work. I didn't want to be angry anymore. I wanted to enjoy the process of getting pregnant, so I hit my knees. The thoughts came slowly at first, and one was something Glenn shared that might not seem like it correlates at first, but bear with me.

This is what he said:

Hate is not the opposite of love, apathy is.

Here's the meaning: hate and love operate based on the same emotions and engagement — but with different goals and outcomes. What kills love is not hate, it's apathy. And this inspired me to come up with a solution. I felt like I couldn't overcome this without putting together a path forward, and this quote hit me like a bolt of lightning.

We don't stand much of a chance on changing the minds of the militant left, and they don't stand much of a chance of changing the minds of pro-lifers. The battle lies in the mushy middle where apathy has a stranglehold. Apathy is the enemy to both pro-life and pro-choice advocates — whoever wins that battle wins the war.

So many people say they would never have an abortion, but they support someone else's right to choose. That's the group we need to connect with. The upcoming movie, Unplanned, is one way we can pierce their hearts and open their minds to see the evil abortion truly is. We must do this all without judgement in our hearts, and instead, act with love and compassion.

We need to separate the real people from the organizations: Planned Parenthood and the politicians who have pushed this agenda so far that we are now debating whether or not it's ok to kill a baby after it's born. I can't believe this is where we are. This agenda is pure evil and we must take a stand.

The deeper I've thought and prayed about this subject, the more I feel relieved of the burden to judge anyone for any reason.

It is beyond me to understand what's going through the mind of a teenage girl who thinks her life is over when she finds out she's pregnant. Likewise, the pain of a sexual assault is something I cannot begin to fathom, and compounding that with a pregnancy is a decision I have no room to judge. The deeper I've thought and prayed about this subject, the more I feel relieved of the burden to judge anyone for any reason. We will all be held to account for what we've made of the life granted to us by our Creator, but we are not meant to be the judge.

It's time to throw winning and losing out the window along with all the tactics that have failed completely. We cannot change hearts and minds if all we are trying to do is change the scoreboard. This issue is about people, love and compassion — and loving someone doesn't include keeping score.

I believe there are four ways we can change our behavior in order to achieve different results. But the key is making these a part of us, not a tool to get what we want. Here are the four behaviors :

FORGIVE: We must forgive those who have chosen to abort. It's not only the compassionate thing to do, it's what is required of us by our Savior, Jesus Christ. Plus, forgiveness always edifies and uplifts all parties, allowing reconciliation to happen.

LOVE: Find ways to show love to those who have already made this choice as well as those who are now facing this decision.

STRENGTHEN: Strengthen those who are in this situation and educate them on all the options available to them. So many times the choice seems to be either "ruin your life" or "abort." There are so many other options, and education is key.

STAND: Take a stand, and don't let the forces of darkness win. Refuse to give in, and help people shake the apathy from their slumbering eyes.

Politically, the focus needs to be on waking the sleeping masses, because the left and the abortion racket do not have the polls in their favor. By and large, people tolerate abortion to a certain point, but very few actually embrace the choice, and, in fact, a lot of those who have had abortions deeply regret it.

The trial my wife and I are facing isn't entirely unlike that of a woman who is facing an unplanned pregnancy. Both have options and choices, both involve the creation of another life and both have eternal consequences. Apathy would convince my wife and me to give up trying and enjoy a life of traveling, doing fun things and getting a good night's sleep. It also would convince the unintentionally pregnant woman that her choice doesn't really matter in the long run — it's just a clump of cells that she can get rid of and forget.

We must fight apathy with all we have in us, no matter the issue. Let's put down our cell phones and turn off Netflix once in a while, and live life.

We must fight apathy with all we have in us. Let's put down our cell phones and turn off Netflix once in a while, and live life. If we can combine being pro-life with pro-choices, meaning educate and give more options, I believe more will choose life.

This time around, we'll be transferring two frozen embryos and the doctor says the odds are good at least one will take — and it's 50/50 we'll end up with twins. Who knows? Maybe our dreams will come true this round. Or maybe we will continue to be our nieces' and nephews' favorite aunt and uncle while we explore other options.

No matter what happens, I know love and life are most important, and I will defend both with every ounce of strength God will grant me. I will gladly stand shoulder to shoulder with any and all who will join me.

Even if you've had an abortion.

GLENN

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Why do Americans feel so empty?

The Bubba Effect erupts as America’s power brokers go rogue

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When institutions betray the public’s trust, the country splits, and the spiral is hard to stop.

Something drastic is happening in American life. Headlines that should leave us stunned barely register anymore. Stories that once would have united the country instead dissolve into silence or shrugs.

It is not apathy exactly. It is something deeper — a growing belief that the people in charge either cannot or will not fix what is broken.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf.

I call this response the Bubba effect. It describes what happens when institutions lose so much public trust that “Bubba,” the average American minding his own business, finally throws his hands up and says, “Fine. I will handle it myself.” Not because he wants to, but because the system that was supposed to protect him now feels indifferent, corrupt, or openly hostile.

The Bubba effect is not a political movement. It is a survival instinct.

What triggers the Bubba effect

We are watching the triggers unfold in real time. When members of Congress publicly encourage active duty troops to disregard orders from the commander in chief, that is not a political squabble. When a federal judge quietly rewrites the rules so one branch of government can secretly surveil another, that is not normal. That is how republics fall. Yet these stories glided across the news cycle without urgency, without consequence, without explanation.

When the American people see the leadership class shrug, they conclude — correctly — that no one is steering the ship.

This is how the Bubba effect spreads. It is not just individuals resisting authority. It is sheriffs refusing to enforce new policies, school boards ignoring state mandates, entire communities saying, “We do not believe you anymore.” It becomes institutional, cultural, national.

A country cracking from the inside

This effect can be seen in Dearborn, Michigan. In the rise of fringe voices like Nick Fuentes. In the Epstein scandal, where powerful people could not seem to locate a single accountable adult. These stories are different in content but identical in message: The system protects itself, not you.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf. That does not mean they suddenly agree with everything that person says. It means they feel abandoned by the institutions that were supposed to be trustworthy.

The Bubba effect is what fills that vacuum.

The dangers of a faithless system

A republic cannot survive without credibility. Congress cannot oversee intelligence agencies if it refuses to discipline its own members. The military cannot remain apolitical if its chain of command becomes optional. The judiciary cannot defend the Constitution while inventing loopholes that erase the separation of powers.

History shows that once a nation militarizes politics, normalizes constitutional shortcuts, or allows government agencies to operate without scrutiny, it does not return to equilibrium peacefully. Something will give.

The question is what — and when.

The responsibility now belongs to us

In a healthy country, this is where the media steps in. This is where universities, pastors, journalists, and cultural leaders pause the outrage machine and explain what is at stake. But today, too many see themselves not as guardians of the republic, but of ideology. Their first loyalty is to narrative, not truth.

The founders never trusted the press more than the public. They trusted citizens who understood their rights, lived their responsibilities, and demanded accountability. That is the antidote to the Bubba effect — not rage, but citizenship.

How to respond without breaking ourselves

Do not riot. Do not withdraw. Do not cheer on destruction just because you dislike the target. That is how nations lose themselves. Instead, demand transparency. Call your representatives. Insist on consequences. Refuse to normalize constitutional violations simply because “everyone does it.” If you expect nothing, you will get nothing.

Do not hand your voice to the loudest warrior simply because he is swinging a bat at the establishment. You do not beat corruption by joining a different version of it. You beat it by modeling the country you want to preserve: principled, accountable, rooted in truth.

Adam Gray / Stringer | Getty Images

Every republic reaches a moment when historians will later say, “That was the warning.” We are living in ours. But warnings are gifts if they are recognized. Institutions bend. People fail. The Constitution can recover — if enough Americans still know and cherish it.

It does not take a majority. Twenty percent of the country — awake, educated, and courageous — can reset the system. It has happened before. It can happen again.

Wake up. Stand up. Demand integrity — from leaders, from institutions, and from yourself. Because the Bubba effect will not end until Americans reclaim the duty that has always belonged to them: preserving the republic for the next generation.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Grim warning: Bad-faith Israel critics duck REAL questions

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Bad-faith attacks on Israel and AIPAC warp every debate. Real answers emerge only when people set aside scripts and ask what serves America’s long-term interests.

The search for truth has always required something very much in short supply these days: honesty. Not performative questions, not scripted outrage, not whatever happens to be trending on TikTok, but real curiosity.

Some issues, often focused on foreign aid, AIPAC, or Israel, have become hotbeds of debate and disagreement. Before we jump into those debates, however, we must return to a simpler, more important issue: honest questioning. Without it, nothing in these debates matters.

Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

The phrase “just asking questions” has re-entered the zeitgeist, and that’s fine. We should always question power. But too many of those questions feel preloaded with someone else’s answer. If the goal is truth, then the questions should come from a sincere desire to understand, not from a hunt for a villain.

Honest desire for truth is the only foundation that can support a real conversation about these issues.

Truth-seeking is real work

Right now, plenty of people are not seeking the truth at all. They are repeating something they heard from a politician on cable news or from a stranger on TikTok who has never opened a history book. That is not a search for answers. That is simply outsourcing your own thought.

If you want the truth, you need to work for it. You cannot treat the world like a Marvel movie where the good guy appears in a cape and the villain hisses on command. Real life does not give you a neat script with the moral wrapped up in two hours.

But that is how people are approaching politics now. They want the oppressed and the oppressor, the heroic underdog and the cartoon villain. They embrace this fantastical framing because it is easier than wrestling with reality.

This framing took root in the 1960s when the left rebuilt its worldview around colonizers and the colonized. Overnight, Zionism was recast as imperialism. Suddenly, every conflict had to fit the same script. Today’s young activists are just recycling the same narrative with updated graphics. Everything becomes a morality play. No nuance, no context, just the comforting clarity of heroes and villains.

Bad-faith questions

This same mindset is fueling the sudden obsession with Israel, and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in particular. You hear it from members of Congress and activists alike: AIPAC pulls the strings, AIPAC controls the government, AIPAC should register as a foreign agent under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. The questions are dramatic, but are they being asked in good faith?

FARA is clear. The standard is whether an individual or group acts under the direction or control of a foreign government. AIPAC simply does not qualify.

Here is a detail conveniently left out of these arguments: Dozens of domestic organizations — Armenian, Cuban, Irish, Turkish — lobby Congress on behalf of other countries. None of them registers under FARA because — like AIPAC — they are independent, domestic organizations.

If someone has a sincere problem with the structure of foreign lobbying, fair enough. Let us have that conversation. But singling out AIPAC alone is not a search for truth. It is bias dressed up as bravery.

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If someone wants to question foreign aid to Israel, fine. Let’s have that debate. But let’s ask the right questions. The issue is not the size of the package but whether the aid advances our interests. What does the United States gain? Does the investment strengthen our position in the region? How does it compare to what we give other nations? And do we examine those countries with the same intensity?

The real target

These questions reflect good-faith scrutiny. But narrowing the entire argument to one country or one dollar amount misses the larger problem. If someone objects to the way America handles foreign aid, the target is not Israel. The target is the system itself — an entrenched bureaucracy, poor transparency, and decades-old commitments that have never been re-examined. Those problems run through programs around the world.

If you want answers, you need to broaden the lens. You have to be willing to put aside the movie script and confront reality. You have to hold yourself to a simple rule: Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

That is the only way this country ever gets clarity on foreign aid, influence, alliances, and our place in the world. Questioning is not just allowed. It is essential. But only if it is honest.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A nation unravels when its shared culture is the first thing to go

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Texas now hosts Quran-first academies, Sharia-compliant housing schemes, and rapidly multiplying mosques — all part of a movement building a self-contained society apart from the country around it.

It is time to talk honestly about what is happening inside America’s rapidly growing Muslim communities. In city after city, large pockets of newcomers are choosing to build insulated enclaves rather than enter the broader American culture.

That trend is accelerating, and the longer we ignore it, the harder it becomes to address.

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world.

America has always welcomed people of every faith and people from every corner of the world, but the deal has never changed: You come here and you join the American family. You are free to honor your traditions, keep your faith, but you must embrace the Constitution as the supreme law of the land. You melt into the shared culture that allows all of us to live side by side.

Across the country, this bargain is being rejected by Islamist communities that insist on building a parallel society with its own rules, its own boundaries, and its own vision for how life should be lived.

Texas illustrates the trend. The state now has roughly 330 mosques. At least 48 of them were built in just the last 24 months. The Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex alone has around 200 Islamic centers. Houston has another hundred or so. Many of these communities have no interest in blending into American life.

This is not the same as past waves of immigration. Irish, Italian, Korean, Mexican, and every other group arrived with pride in their heritage. Still, they also raised American flags and wanted their children to be part of the country’s future. They became doctors, small-business owners, teachers, and soldiers. They wanted to be Americans.

What we are watching now is not the melting pot. It is isolation by design.

Parallel societies do not end well

More than 300 fundamentalist Islamic schools now operate full-time across the country. Many use Quran-first curricula that require students to spend hours memorizing religious texts before they ever reach math or science. In Dallas, Brighter Horizons Academy enrolls more than 1,700 students and draws federal support while operating on a social model that keeps children culturally isolated.

Then there is the Epic City project in Collin and Hunt counties — 402 acres originally designated only for Muslim buyers, with Sharia-compliant financing and a mega-mosque at the center. After public outcry and state investigations, the developers renamed it “The Meadows,” but a new sign does not erase the original intent. It is not a neighborhood. It is a parallel society.

Americans should not hesitate to say that parallel societies are dangerous. Europe tried this experiment, and the results could not be clearer. In Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, entire neighborhoods now operate under their own cultural rules, some openly hostile to Western norms. When citizens speak up, they are branded bigots for asserting a basic right: the ability to live safely in their own communities.

A crisis of confidence

While this separation widens, another crisis is unfolding at home. A recent Gallup survey shows that about 40% of American women ages 18 to 39 would leave the country permanently if given the chance. Nearly half of a rising generation — daughters, sisters, soon-to-be mothers — no longer believe this nation is worth building a future in.

And who shapes the worldview of young boys? Their mothers. If a mother no longer believes America is home, why would her child grow up ready to defend it?

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world. If we lose confidence in our own national identity at the same time that we allow separatist enclaves to spread unchecked, the outcome is predictable. Europe is already showing us what comes next: cultural fracture, political radicalization, and the slow death of national unity.

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Stand up and tell the truth

America welcomes Muslims. America defends their right to worship freely. A Muslim who loves the Constitution, respects the rule of law, and wants to raise a family in peace is more than welcome in America.

But an Islamist movement that rejects assimilation, builds enclaves governed by its own religious framework, and treats American law as optional is not simply another participant in our melting pot. It is a direct challenge to it. If we refuse to call this problem out out of fear of being called names, we will bear the consequences.

Europe is already feeling those consequences — rising conflict and a political class too paralyzed to admit the obvious. When people feel their culture, safety, and freedoms slipping away, they will follow anyone who promises to defend them. History has shown that over and over again.

Stand up. Speak plainly. Be unafraid. You can practice any faith in this country, but the supremacy of the Constitution and the Judeo-Christian moral framework that shaped it is non-negotiable. It is what guarantees your freedom in the first place.

If you come here and honor that foundation, welcome. If you come here to undermine it, you do not belong here.

Wake up to what is unfolding before the consequences arrive. Because when a nation refuses to say what is true, the truth eventually forces its way in — and by then, it is always too late.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Shocking: AI-written country song tops charts, sparks soul debate

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A machine can imitate heartbreak well enough to top the charts, but it cannot carry grief, choose courage, or hear the whisper that calls human beings to something higher.

The No. 1 country song in America right now was not written in Nashville or Texas or even L.A. It came from code. “Walk My Walk,” the AI-generated single by the AI artist Breaking Rust, hit the top spot on Billboard’s Country Digital Song Sales chart, and if you listen to it without knowing that fact, you would swear a real singer lived the pain he is describing.

Except there is no “he.” There is no lived experience. There is no soul behind the voice dominating the country music charts.

If a machine can imitate the soul, then what is the soul?

I will admit it: I enjoy some AI music. Some of it is very good. And that leaves us with a question that is no longer science fiction. If a machine can fake being human this well, what does it mean to be human?

A new world of artificial experience

This is not just about one song. We are walking straight into a technological moment that will reshape everyday life.

Elon Musk said recently that we may not even have phones in five years. Instead, we will carry a small device that listens, anticipates, and creates — a personal AI agent that knows what we want to hear before we ask. It will make the music, the news, the podcasts, the stories. We already live in digital bubbles. Soon, those bubbles might become our own private worlds.

If an algorithm can write a hit country song about hardship and perseverance without a shred of actual experience, then the deeper question becomes unavoidable: If a machine can imitate the soul, then what is the soul?

What machines can never do

A machine can produce, and soon it may produce better than we can. It can calculate faster than any human mind. It can rearrange the notes and words of a thousand human songs into something that sounds real enough to fool millions.

But it cannot care. It cannot love. It cannot choose right and wrong. It cannot forgive because it cannot be hurt. It cannot stand between a child and danger. It cannot walk through sorrow.

A machine can imitate the sound of suffering. It cannot suffer.

The difference is the soul. The divine spark. The thing God breathed into man that no code will ever have. Only humans can take pain and let it grow into compassion. Only humans can take fear and turn it into courage. Only humans can rebuild their lives after losing everything. Only humans hear the whisper inside, the divine voice that says, “Live for something greater.”

We are building artificial minds. We are not building artificial life.

Questions that define us

And as these artificial minds grow sharper, as their tools become more convincing, the right response is not panic. It is to ask the oldest and most important questions.

Who am I? Why am I here? What is the meaning of freedom? What is worth defending? What is worth sacrificing for?

That answer is not found in a lab or a server rack. It is found in that mysterious place inside each of us where reason meets faith, where suffering becomes wisdom, where God reminds us we are more than flesh and more than thought. We are not accidents. We are not circuits. We are not replaceable.

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The miracle machines can never copy

Being human is not about what we can produce. Machines will outproduce us. That is not the question. Being human is about what we can choose. We can choose to love even when it costs us something. We can choose to sacrifice when it is not easy. We can choose to tell the truth when the world rewards lies. We can choose to stand when everyone else bows. We can create because something inside us will not rest until we do.

An AI content generator can borrow our melodies, echo our stories, and dress itself up like a human soul, but it cannot carry grief across a lifetime. It cannot forgive an enemy. It cannot experience wonder. It cannot look at a broken world and say, “I am going to build again.”

The age of machines is rising. And if we do not know who we are, we will shrink. But if we use this moment to remember what makes us human, it will help us to become better, because the one thing no algorithm will ever recreate is the miracle that we exist at all — the miracle of the human soul.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.