My time with the activists who want to ban IVF
And a note on setbacks and prayers for a better tomorrow
Political messaging around abortion in this post-Roe-v.-Wade world has been a challenge for Republicans this election year, and a big focus of my reporting.
I’ve been reporting for a few months on the activists who call themselves “abortion abolitionists” - and that movement is the subject of today’s The Sunday Story podcast from NPR with Ayesha Rascoe.
As many Republicans, including former President Trump, work to soften their party’s image on the issue, this small but active group of abortion opponents is openly calling for bans on IVF and the death penalty for at least some doctors and patients involved in abortion.
The movement exists to the right of the traditional anti-abortion movement and is often critical of it for, in the view of these activists, being too willing to compromise. After a trip to North Carolina to cover a conference earlier this year, I traveled to Texas this summer to spend time with these activists, particularly some of the women involved in the movement. The podcast examines their efforts to influence policy and the ways they overlap with and differ from major anti-abortion groups.
I hope you’ll make a cup of coffee or tea and give it a listen.
Catching up
I’ve been mostly away from work for the past couple of weeks, recovering from Round Two of shoulder surgery related to last year’s car accident, when my then-12-year-old and I were hit head-on by a drunk driver on a clear Sunday morning much like this one.
As often happens in this broken world, things didn’t go quite as hoped.
This was supposed to be the last step in the healing process, and I won’t burden you with the surgical details, but suffice it to say, it’s not over. There’s a new hunk of metal in my shoulder now, instead of the no-metal look I was going for. Ugh.
I spent the time off sleeping quite a bit (healing bones make you tired, something along the lines of breast-feeding tired or post-heavy-workout tired) and spending time with my two sisters who came from far and farther to visit.
One brought artwork from my nieces, which lifted my spirits to a surprising degree - which, as it turns out, I would unfortunately need more than anticipated.
In the scale of problems in the world, this is a not-so-bad one and I’m incredibly fortunate in every way. My sisters visited. My coworkers have been supportive. My boys brought home flowers!
Still, it is a setback, and it comes at a time when being at home and in pain rather than on the campaign trail makes me wrestle with feelings of frustration and uselessness.
But I’ll be back to work in a couple of days and back on the campaign trail, arm in sling.
I felt well enough to celebrate Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, with my husband’s family last week, and I’m praying for a better year for so many at home and around the world.
My little broken clavicle is just that - a little thing - I know.
Also, my husband played the guitar for services, and as any exvangelical girlie will understand, showing up with the worship leader is kind of big deal.
A few updates:
The Englewood Review of Books published this conversation recently with one of my favorite thinkers on faith, writer Sarah Bessey (What are the odds of both women in a conversation about evangelicalism being named Sarah? Really, really, really good…).
Lynn Sweet of the Chicago Sun-Times, a longtime friend and mentor who took a chance on me when I was a young woman from a small evangelical college looking for an internship in D.C., posted this interview about my book, The Exvangelicals: Loving, Living, and Leaving the White Evangelical Church.
I’m coming to New York City and Philadelphia next week!
NYU’s Center for Religion & Media is hosting a book discussion on the evening of Thursday, October 17. Events details and registration are available here.
I’ll join a panel, “Making Sense of the US Selection,” as part of the University of Pennsylvania’s Election Series on Friday, October 18. Those registration details are here.
Here’s one tiny voice praying for you, hoping to lift your spirits. 🙏❤️