Unringing Bells

Some things in life are easier to remedy than others, while others are impossible to remedy, to bring back to what it once was, and somehow pretend it never happened. There are consequences to the actions we undertake in life, and this is a lesson the newest up and coming generation is learning the hard way.

Nothing you do is done in a vacuum. You do not live your life in a bubble. Spontaneous decisions you made because you thought it was cool, edgy, or because your mom might be called brave can have permanent, lasting effects, and consequences you can’t sidestep as easily as not leaving your room for two weeks waiting for your hair to grow back after you let your best friend practice their hair cutting technique on you.

Let me assure you; you had a far easier time with the haircut than the guy who decided it was nothing short of brilliant to tattoo ‘idiot’ across his forehead. Get it, because he wasn’t really an idiot, he just wanted you to think he was and be wowed by his brilliance once you engaged in meaningful conversation. That decision may have only cost him a few bucks and a half hour or so, but undoing it, unringing that particular bell will likely cost him a few thousand dollars in laser tattoo removal fees, and not a negligible amount of pain.

Then you have those who do irreparable harm to themselves and their bodies in their quest to play god, whose only recourse is regret. It’s one thing when an adult chooses to butcher their body, then regrets it afterward. I have less empathy for them because they were adults. What breaks my heart is the children, who years away from puberty were nudged toward thinking that they weren’t really who God made them to be, but with a cocktail of drugs, and a few snips and tugs, mommy would always have the little girl she dreamed of and be called brave in the process.

The thing about consequence of action is that often there is a delay in seeing the consequences of the actions we choose to undertake. If the consequences were immediate, then perhaps more people would see them as the cautionary tales they are, and not be so quick to make decisions, they will not be able to undo.

If, with the first puff of a cigarette, you could see the tumor growing on the side of someone’s neck, chances are fewer people would pick up the habit. If you could see a snapshot of a woman’s life, steeped in regret, celebrating the birthdays of the would-be baby she aborted, baking cakes and lighting candles for ghost, haunted by thoughts of what it could have grown up to be, maybe fewer women would be so flippant about taking a life.

Now a new crisis is brewing, and it is young people regretting gender transition, seeking some way to reverse it. They tried to bury this story because it flies in the face of the narrative, but the number is now in the hundreds, and only getting larger, and the details are beginning to emerge.

This is what we get when we allow children who can’t decide on whether they want chocolate milk or white milk with their lunch to decide something as permanent as going under the knife and doing irreparable harm to themselves.

Whether it’s because the adults were indifferent, absentee, or selfish enough to sacrifice their child’s wellbeing for a shot at appearing on a daytime talk show to talk about how brave and forward-thinking they are, the consequences are nothing less than hopelessness, despair, and regret.

There are unavoidable consequences to playing god, and I fear we are just beginning to see the tip of this particular iceberg.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea Jr.