When my daughter was a toddler, she visited the bustling newsroom at the community paper where I worked as a reporter. The space, like many newsrooms, was messy—strewn with loose press releases, sticky notes, stray pens, and wadded-up, discarded notebook pages as reporters raced to meet daily deadlines. She made herself busy, playing with “treasures” she’d found under a nearby vacated desk.
A passing colleague noticed her rummaging and paused to greet her.
“Are you a little squirrel playing under there?”
She popped from her hiding place, stood with arms akimbo, and said with all of the passion her petite body could muster, “I not a squirrel. I a human being, made in the image of God!”
Eyes widened, he walked toward his desk chuckling and no doubt thinking about her response.
As a pro-life apologist and a mother, I’m often asked about how to communicate the case for the pro-life view to children.
There is no formulaic answer to this, but I do think there are guiding principles we can employ: Learn the view and live it yourselves; establish a solid foundation; create an environment where questions are welcomed; and, when they’re ready, teach them the case and how to defend it.
Learn and Live It
The basic case for the pro-life view can be stated in less than a minute:
I am pro-life because the science of embryology clearly states that from the moment of conception, we were living, distinct, whole human beings. We weren’t part of another human being, but whole humans at our earliest stage of development. Furthermore, philosophy tells me that there is no relevant difference between the embryos we once were and the adults we are today that justifies abortion. Differences like size, level of development, environment, and degree of dependency aren’t sufficient to say you could have been killed back then but not now.
Learning it propositionally is a start, but learning to integrate these truths and allow them to form us is another matter.
The latter shapes you into the kind of person who understands and acts upon the intrinsic worth (or, stated biblically, the imago Dei status) of each individual. It informs the way you view yourself as well as the way you interact with others—even those who disagree with you.
When it comes to children learning from the adults in their lives, so much is caught rather than simply taught. That’s why we have sayings like “Monkey see, monkey do” and songs like “Be careful little ears what you hear.” Children are sponges who soak up information and habits, often without a filter. The positive side of this reality is that when you live the pro-life view in your language, your choices, and your interactions (especially your interactions with them!), they learn it by absorption. The ability to state those truths propositionally comes later and somewhat naturally.
Foundation First
My husband and I decided early on to speak true “identity” statements over our children before they could speak themselves.
As they learned to talk, it became a sort of catechism that we repeated regularly.
One of us would ask, “What makes you valuable?”
The response we taught them was, “I’m a human being made in the image of God.”
I’m not sure I expected to hear it from my daughter’s lips that day in the newsroom, but it pleased me to know she had made the connection!
That simple statement gave us the foundation we needed—and still make use of—anytime our children began questioning their worth, whether because of making mistakes, or failing to meet the expectations of another, or when comparison to others sneaked in (which, in our media age, remains an ongoing battle for all of us).
As we navigated hard circumstances, prideful tendencies, and disappointments, we inevitably wound our way back to asking, “Is this what makes you valuable?”
The answer, though not always felt in the moment, remained true: “No. My ultimate worth is already determined. I’m a human being made in God’s image.”
Conversely, this foundational reality informed their interactions with others who did not understand their own immeasurable worth. Standing on that foundation, our children were able to extend compassion to others (imperfectly, mind you!) who had mistreated them.
Create Space for Questions
Realizing that our worth comes from our God-given status frees us from the lie that we must have all of the answers, and from the fear that comes when we don’t. When we walk (or even limp along) in this freedom, our homes or learning environments become safe havens for children to ask hard questions as they grow. Their questions can then serve as gauges to determine not only what they’re thinking about but how simple or complex our responses need to be.
This kind of environment can be cultivated practically by inviting questions and creating intentional times and spaces for them.
You might routinely check in and extend an invitation: “Has anything been on your mind lately that you want to talk about or ask me?” Or even a simple, “Hey, you know you’re free to ask us anything, right? In this home/place, we don’t get in trouble for asking questions.”
Know that if you invite them, you should be prepared when they come. My husband, Tripp, often advises adults who work with teens and young adults to receive the questions without alarm.
“If you are shocked,” he says, “don’t let them see it. Just respond with, ‘That’s a great question. Let’s think about that.’”
Our good friend Dr. Kathy Koch (pronounced “Cook”) of Celebrate Kids, Inc. recommends mitigating discomfort or awkwardness by inviting questions when you’re not face to face, which can feel more intense. Create “space” for them when you’re on a walk, driving somewhere in the car, doing a passive activity (like a puzzle, project, or household chore). She also warns parents that children often ask their most pressing questions when it’s time for bed, especially older children. There is a sense of safety that comes with the dark and our patient presence.
If you discern that your child or student is asking a question for which the answer requires more maturity on their part, follow the model of Casper ten Boom. In The Hiding Place, Corrie ten Boom shares that when she was younger than her fellow classmates, she overheard a conversation about “sexsin.” She didn’t know what that was, and that made her fearful. When she accompanied Casper, her father, on his weekly visit by train to the naval yard, she asked him about it. At first, he didn’t respond. When they reached their stop, he asked a troubled Corrie to carry his case for him. She tried to lift it and, failing, told him it was too heavy.
Casper taught her that some knowledge was also too heavy for her to carry, so it was his duty to carry it for her until she was strong enough to carry it herself. (Corrie later related the same lesson to God, who carries for us those things we cannot understand.)
The lesson comforted Corrie. Her father was not afraid of the question. She knew he had an answer, and that he would give it to her in due time.
Finally, a humble “I don’t know” isn’t a failure to the children in our lives but a gift and an opportunity. They see that, just like them, we also need God’s help, and their question provides an occasion to seek the truth together.
Teach the Case
There is no specific age that is perfect for teaching pro-life apologetics. Perhaps my work in the field exposed my children earlier and more than most to the issue of abortion, but I found that my daughter began asking serious questions about abortion at the age of twelve, and her younger brother slightly sooner.
We gave each a simple definition: “Abortion is when someone intentionally kills a child in his or her mother’s womb.”
Both of our children responded with anger. Our daughter’s outrage was accompanied by tears; our son’s was mixed with a fierce protectiveness.
From there, we let their individual questions guide us.
“Why would someone do that?”
“How do they kill them?”
“What can we do to stop it?” or, “How can we help so that mothers won’t want to do that?”
We found it best to answer their questions directly and honestly without over-explaining. If they wanted more information, they asked for it.
Working from our foundation of intrinsic human value, which we applied to every human being involved in the debate, we helped them build the case for life over time. We have done so both offensively and defensively by not only teaching them the pro-life arguments, but by exposing them to alternative views with opportunities to respond and then debrief with us. As they learned, we became the questioners, providing imaginary scenarios or conversations for them and asking them to think through ways to respond.
We hope their guide is the gospel—the shocking and beautiful reality that offers hope and healing to all who will receive the gift.
These are ongoing conversations with our children, one grown and one nearly in high school, and I imagine they will continue as long as abortion exists as a viable option for many in our communities.
As Tripp and I have worked extensively with adults of all ages, we can say with confidence that it is not too late to learn—and live—the case for life.