Dear Dr. Gosnell,
I want you to see this picture. This is my newborn grandson Nolan. He and his twin sister Lucy were born last Saturday night. They were born several weeks premature. They are in a hospital unit with several dozen other premature babies.
That’s Nolan’s hand against my hand. His hand is tiny, just like everything else on him. He is so tiny that you can hardly believe he’s real. . . but he is. So real that I can only stare at him and at Lucy with wonder and awe. They are miracles.
Nolan and Lucy have been breathing on their own ever since the moment they were born. They are kicking, crying, cooing, eating, pooping, breathing, living human beings. They have personalities that are already evident. They love being held, touched, and talked to. They love being loved. . . and they love right back.
Like all other human beings, Nolan and Lucy were knit together by a miracle of God in their mother’s womb. I’ve been staring at them and pondering that miracle. . . the complexity of it all and the amazingly complex design of the entire process. God does incredible things.
That same God is a never-ending fountain of miracles. The greatest of all those miracles, I believe, is the miracle of making those who are dead alive. It doesn’t matter how dead you are. . . there is redemption, forgiveness, and new life. When I’m holding the miracles named Nolan and Lucy, I know that Nolan and Lucy are being held by a miracle who doesn’t deserve to be a miracle. God does incredible things.