The cries of your heart reach heaven, and God has not turned away from the innocent ones torn from the womb before they saw the sun. The unborn child, unwanted and cast out, is received by the Lord as He receives every broken soul. Do not think their blood cries in vain; it is heard, and the Judge of all will do right. But for you who mourn and pray, let not your sorrow be idle, nor your prayer a mere despair. God permits these afflictions, yes, even the sight of such cruelty, not to crush you, but to draw you to Himself, as a mother frightens her wandering child so that he flees back into her arms. So stand firm in the shelter of His mercy.
You have prayed for the abandoned, for those without home or refuge. But now, do not merely pray. Become a dwelling for the homeless. The poor man at your door, the neighbor betrayed by family, the mother who is tempted to despair, these are not strangers to be questioned and suspected, but Christ himself, who said, “I was a stranger and you took me in.” Did Abraham know he was entertaining angels? He received all, and in receiving all, he welcomed Heaven. So you, though you have only a little room or a crust of bread, have enough. Not even the poorest is excused from mercy; a cup of cold water carries a divine reward, and two tiny coins offered from a sincere heart outweigh the gold of the proud. Visit the sick, step into the prison of someone’s loneliness, and open your roof, however humble, to the one who has no shelter. By this, you lend to God, and He becomes your debtor.
The babies for whom you weep are safe. They died without baptism? Do not be troubled. They were slain by the will of others, not by their own unbelief. The mercy of God is not bound by water, but by His own love. The centurion was not worthy, yet Christ came to him. So these little ones, who could not speak a word of faith, are received by the One who said, “Let the children come to me.” Their mothers and fathers may have forsaken them, but the Lord has taken them up, as your Psalm declares.
And what of the mothers and fathers who sinned so grievously? If they turn, if they repent with true sorrow and flee to the Church, the same mercy awaits them. Baptism was given for the remission of sins, but it is not a license to delay. The man who presumes on God’s kindness and puts off repentance, saying “God is merciful” while he clings to his sin, is like one who remains in a crumbling house, hoping the roof will not fall. Better to labor now, to build a safe room through tears and confession and almsgiving, than to wait in terror. Yet even after baptism, if we sin as all men do, true repentance wins mercy again and again, so long as we do not abandon the struggle.
You ask why God does not end all this suffering at once. The holy ones who faced the furnace did not set a time limit. They said, “Our God is able to deliver us; but if not, we will not serve your idols.” That is the faith that overcomes. Abraham climbed the mountain expecting to sacrifice his son, not to bring him back alive. And because he did not dictate terms to God, he received Isaac again as from the dead. So you, when you pray for an end to the slaughter, for healing of the abandoned, do not say, “If He does not do it by this time.” Persevere without conditions. He delays only that you may knock more urgently, that your faith may be stretched and your love deepened.
Look at the Apostle Paul: he took care not to be a burden, so that no one could accuse the Gospel. He taught us that sometimes we must even forgo our own rights to receive help, lest anyone stumble. If you see a fallen woman or a frightened girl, do not first demand whether she is worthy, but lift her up as one who might entertain angels unaware. In this way, you both build up the weak and silence the accuser.
Now, carry these things with you. The unborn are at rest in the bosom of Abraham. The living are to be helped, not judged. Your own soul must be anchored in prayer, made firm by works of mercy, and purified by the fear of God that is the beginning of love. Do not lose heart. The promises seem far off, but faith sees them from a distance, embraces them, and holds fast until the day dawns. God will receive you and them, if you do not let go.