Alone she sat, Old, wrinkled, bent.

Though my own personal beliefs about how to live not only as a Christian, but also as an ordained minister have often been at odds with Pastor Mark Driscoll, I find that I now vacillate between a deep sense of sadness and sincere embarrassment.

Amid the war, the strife, the hate, Beyond the death and suffering,

One day the devil and one of his little minions were sitting on a cloud looking down at some humans below when they saw a man walking down a road who stopped, picked up something off the road, put it in his pocket and kept walking. “What did he find?” asked the minion. “A piece of truth,” chuckled the devil.

How does a person who grew up in the Deep South, who as a teenager joined one of the most conservative denominations in the U.S., who was educated in a religious college and seminary, who was ordained in that conservative denomination decades ago, and who has served in ministry for 50 years find himself to be not only prochoice, but a feminist?

Seldom a week goes by that I am not confronted with the question, “How can you be a minister and believe in abortion?”