Focus on the Family is strongly pro-life. In fact, one of our six guiding principles is:

We believe that human life is created by God in His image. It is of inestimable worth and significance in all its dimensions, including the preborn, the aged, the mentally disabled, those deemed unattractive, the physically challenged, and every other condition in which humanness is expressed from the single cell stage of development to natural death. Christians are therefore called to defend, protect, and value all human life.

Specifically, when it comes to life in the womb, we encourage women to carry their children to term, regardless of whether the pregnancy is deemed "inconvenient," or whether the child has been prenatally diagnosed with a birth defect or other such problem. A preborn child is a living human being made in the image of God, irrespective of the circumstances surrounding that child's conception or birth.

There are very rare instances, however, in which treatments necessary to preserve the life of the mother might result in the loss of the preborn child. In this type of situation, in which the life of the mother is at stake, some couples are faced with the heartbreaking decision to save the mother's life at the expense of the child's.

For the sake of precision, I'm simply going to copy-paste a response that Focus on the Family wrote, with guidance from our Physicians Resource Council, to one person who contacted us about these situations ...

What should a pregnant woman do if her physician tells her that carrying her baby to term will place her own life at risk?

From our perspective, this is one of those rare, agonizing situations in which there are no simple right-or-wrong answers. Our initial reaction would be to suggest that this mom seek a second opinion about her condition from a different doctor, preferably a doctor with strong pro-life convictions. If the diagnosis remains unchanged, then we would have to concede — though sadly and reluctantly — that this may be a case in which ending a pregnancy is a rightful consideration.

Why do we say this? Because we recognize that what this dilemma really entails is a conscious choice between two equally precious lives. If the baby lives, the mother dies, and vice versa. Is it right to sacrifice the woman — a woman who may be someone else's mother, wife, or daughter — in order to save the child? What kind of secondary factors and circumstances should guide us making this terrible choice? Obviously there is no easy solution. Either option carries painful and regrettable ramifications for everyone concerned.

Extreme medical emergencies may arise that threaten the life of both mother and child. In the case of tubal (or ectopic) pregnancies, the child has essentially no chance of survival, while the threat to the mother's life is very real, very high, and grows as the pregnancy progresses. In this case, a health care professional may provide treatment that results in the ending of the pregnancy in order to save the life of the mother — obviously with the patient's informed consent.

This is an agonizing situation, but it is nevertheless consistent with a pro-life ethic which seeks to preserve life. The action is taken to save one life where otherwise two lives will be lost. This is also completely different from elective abortion, which entails the purposeful killing of a preborn child for the sake of terminating an unwanted pregnancy.

That said, several of the pro-life physicians we spoke with mentioned that it is imperative that ultrasound be used to verify that a twin embryo is not present in the uterus, as any drug administered to terminate the pregnancy would affect both the ectopic and the uterine pregnancy. In the case where a uterine pregnancy is also detected, surgical treatment is considered a better option for an ectopic pregnancy, in order to give the twin in the womb the best chance for survival.

Please don't misunderstand. We're aware that there are many people who feel strongly that terminating a pregnancy is wrong in every instance, regardless of the circumstances. What's more, we agree one hundred percent with those who contend that the humanness of the child is not dependent upon the health or welfare of the mother. That doesn't change the fact that, in a scenario like this, a decision of some kind has to be made. There's simply no way around it.

We should hasten to add that we pointedly disagree with those who expand the phrase "life of the mother" to read "health of the mother." Under this broader interpretation almost any temporary discomfort during pregnancy can be used to justify an abortion. In fact, Doe v. Bolton, the United States Supreme Court case that along with Roe v. Wade legalized abortion in 1973, allows abortion for virtually any or no reason at all under the guise of "health of the mother." From our perspective, this is altogether different from those few cases in which the continuation of pregnancy places a mother's life in grave danger.

There you go. Even as I read over and edit this blog, I find myself heartbroken. I know what it's like to lose a baby before she's had a chance to take her first breath. The loss of life, including preborn life, is truly heartbreaking.

Sometimes, though, we're faced with unfathomably difficult scenarios ... and we weep alongside those women who've had to make that difficult decision to end their pregnancies under these circumstances.

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For more information, consider the following:

• When the doctor says your baby has a fatal disability
• "I Will Carry You" slideshow
• Coping with Miscarriage

Focus on the Family also has counselors and care specialists who are available weekdays to talk with you, provide information and encouragement, suggest resources, give referrals and pray with you. If you are struggling, and would like to talk with one of them, you can find more information here.

For the sake of sensitivity toward those who are wrestling with this issue, we are not accepting comments. If you'd like to share your thoughts with us, you're free to e-mail them to editor@boundless.org

Earlier this month, on a Wednesday morning, I slipped our new videocamera into my jacket pocket and headed out the door with my wife and oldest daughter. We were going to the hospital to hear our 10-week-old baby's heartbeat for the first time, and I wanted to capture that exciting moment.

We arrived and checked in, and then were ushered to an examination room where we'd hear that heartbeat. The medical technician pressed the fetal doppler unit against my wife's belly and moved it around. My daughter moved to the side to get a closer look. We heard my wife's heart, pulsing slowly. We heard unknown swishes and gurgles. But that baby's heartbeat was elusive.

The technician moved us to another room, where our doctor would take a closer look using an ultrasound machine. Once again a medical device was pressed up against my wife's belly, this time not to listen, but to see. The doctor moved the monitor so that my wife could see better. My daughter sat on my lap, excited to see the tiny baby that was growing inside her mommy's belly, excited to get a peek at her new baby brother or sister.

"This doesn't look good," the doctor whispered.

The monitor showed an open space, which I interpreted as my wife's uterus. No spine, no little appendages. Just an open space.

Our doctor zoomed in. On the left side of the open space was a small clump, affixed to the uterine wall. He measured it at less than half an inch -- not the size you'd expect from a 10-week-old baby. Tears came to my wife's eyes. Her face flushed.

The doctor left and came back with two assistants. After another exam, the doctor confirmed with us that the baby had died, probably some time in early March. He assured us that it wasn't our fault, that sometimes this just happens.

I close my eyes and my imagination goes back a month. I see this tiny baby boy or girl, its tiny heart clicking away at 140 beats per minute. To the degree it's able, it's feeling secure, and loved. Then something goes terribly wrong. And our tiny baby with a full-grown spirit opens her eyes not her mommy's face, but her Savior's face.

When we got home from the hospital, my wife went upstairs to be alone and my daughter went to the back yard to play with her sisters. I walked to the family room, took the videocamera out of my pocket, and laid it gently on the counter.

Before heading to bed last night I peeked out the back window and saw snowflakes drifting through the cold night air, swirling and gently settling onto the lawn. For some reason, I just love snow. Makes me feel cozy.

I woke up this morning to find a fresh layer of icy white flakes blanketing my yard, softening and lightening my little landscape.

And that got me thinking about how God can have that kind of effect on me. He can wash me in His forgiveness, "and I shall be whiter than snow." And like the snow-covered landscape, I too can become softer, lighter.

Maybe that's why snow resonates so much with me. It makes all things new. Just like the Lord.

So I woke up late last night, half-way, and sensed something frightening to the side of the bed. Looking over, kinda, I saw two short, stocky creatures, like some scary dwarves you might see on Syfy. Of course, I found myself in a state of sleep paralysis, so all I could do was lay there in fear. Finally, I was able to squeak a sound out of my mouth, which helped me snap out of semi-consciousness and made the apparitions dissipate. It may sound anti-climactic, but I was able to roll over and fall back asleep pretty easily.

That got me thinking, though: What if there are spiritual beings bent on disrupting my life, specifically my marriage? If that's the case (and Scripture does reinforce the idea that evil spirits exist and want to do me harm), then what am I able to do about them? Maybe I can immerse myself more in God's Word. Maybe I can try harder to avoid the sins that seem to welcome these things. And maybe I can pray to the Lord for protection, and maybe even address these spirits directly in Jesus' name.

In his preface to The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis wrote:

There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.

I agree. Thinking too much about dark spirits is not good. At the same time, it's not good to dismiss the reality of their existence.

So for the sake of my family, I'll continue working on improving communication with my wife. I'll listen to Focus on the Family and read things that'll help my marriage. I'll try to take better care of my health. But I'll also pray the Lord's spiritual protection over my household -- since we're not hindered merely by wrong ideas and physical barriers, but by evil spirits as well.

I found myself thinking last night about differences between expressions of praise that are beautiful and crafty, and those that are clumsy and seemingly uninspired. Naturally I'm drawn to the former and sometimes tolerate the latter.

I can appreciate well-executed art, especially if it's godward. I love to hear a good Christian band get in a worship groove. I'm moved by well-crafted essays or poems that explore the grace of God and how fathomless His great love is in spite of my sin. I can't help but think that Handel's "Messiah" is the pinnacle of worship.

But then my thoughts go back some 15 years to a weekend retreat I attended during my days in undergrad....

A group of us from the college InterVarsity group were out of town together, spending the night in a church. Bedding and backpacks were spread throughout the sanctuary and adjoining classrooms; friends were gathered here and there to talk about the Lord, or about football. It was fairly late and I had already crawled into my sleeping bag. A friend was reading her Bible a few sleeping bags away, and began singing quietly. Her voice was sweet, but painfully out of tune. As she continued singing gently her adoration to the Lord, I was moved by her simple faith and honesty and tender passion for who the Lord was and what He'd done for her. And 15 years later, I still remember the time I drifted off to sleep in the presence of pure grateful out-of-tune worship.

And that makes me want to reevaluate my criteria for "good worship." Scripture speaks of a "joyful noise," and how it's good to make one. The heart of worship is more significant than the tone of worship.

I'm reminded of something G.K. Chesterton wrote a century ago: "If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly." It's better to make a fool of yourself engaging the Lord than to play it cool and remain disengaged.

And I'm reminded of a song Chris Tomlin wrote a few years ago, "The Way I Was Made," which includes the lines:

I want to live like there's no tomorrow
I want to dance like no one's around
I want to sing like nobody's listening
Before I lay my body down

An out of tune melody, an awkward moment of grateful sobbing, a simplistic song, the seemingly purposeless pouring of perfume on Someone's feet ... can all honor the Lord if the heart is true. Beautiful, intricate works of art may honor the Lord, yes, but a grateful heart poorly expressed pleases Him no less than Handel.

May I look to engage the Lord more truly and passionately, at the expense of my being seen as credible or sophisticated. And may I not be so quick to look down on others' godward expressions just because I happen to find them unpleasant.

A while ago Boundless author Thabiti Anyabwile wrote some suggestions on "How Not to Lose Your Faith in College." While the entire article is helpful for college students in particular, one word of advice, "Choose your friends with biblical criteria in view," struck me as especially insightful for those in any stage of life, including married couples. Here's an excerpt:

Though we talk about "making friends," few people really set out to "make" them. However, intentional cultivation of friendships may make all the difference between a rich college experience and one filled with frustration, alienation, broken relationships, and other kinds of pains. Since most adults look back on their college days as the time when they discovered lifelong friends, being intentional at this point is fairly important.

Sometimes we can take the romantic view that friendships "just happen." But more often than not, I've found that meaningful friendships have to begin with intentionality, by identifying someone who you'd like to have as a friend. A good place to find those people is at church.

For example, my wife and I've just begun attending a new small group at church. There are four other couples in the group and, though we've just met them, I can't help but think of them as friends that I just don't know well yet. The context -- a group of Christians in a similar season of life, each person interested in growing in godliness and sharing their lives -- is bound to facilitate rich friendships.

Everyone wants friends. I do. And so I am intentional in seeking them out, in this case at church. How do you make friends?

I'm not a big fan of pop psychology, but I have found Gary Chapman's The Five Love Languages helpful as I think how to love my wife and as I think about what makes me feel loved. For those of you who generally stick to Spurgeon and Edwards and à Kempis, Dr. Chapman describes the five "languages" on his Web site.

I found an online test that may help you narrow down which of your "love languages" is dominant. I took the test. Here are my results:

• Quality Time: 8
• Words of Affirmation: 7
• Physical Touch: 7
• Acts of Service: 6
• Receiving Gifts: 2

It's either "balanced" or "boring," depending on how you look at the results. I suppose the telling result is that I don't get much out of receiving gifts, so maybe save your money and instead spend time on Young Married Life and send me an e-mail affirming how much you appreciate our work.

Again, I tend not to put much faith in popular faddish psychological self-help books. But I do see some value in understanding what "fills your love tank" and what makes your spouse feel loved. Maybe take the test and share your results with us (and with your spouse). And let me know how you find this assessment helpful.

Memento mori.

I first heard that phrase in grad school. The professor was challenging us to consider that we've got a finite number of days on this earth, and that we should make the most of them. Psalm 90:12 reinforces this sober appeal: "So teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom."

In the past few weeks, I've been reminded of our temporariness here. Like that jug of milk in my refrigerator, I've got an expiration date. And you do too. Every day there are new obituaries in our newspapers, listing the elderly and the young, the famous and the obscure. Each life loved by a parent, a spouse, a child, a friend. Their time has come to an end; they have "shuffled off this mortal coil" and moved on.

I confess that I do think about my untimely death sometimes, even though my wife doesn't want to hear me admit that. I think about the day my three daughters will no longer be able to see their papa. I think about how lonely my wife will be laying in bed, next to the impression I made over the course of many years sleeping with her. I think of all the things left undone, the opportunities missed. And I'm reminded of two things: that death is an unfathomable tragedy, and that I must embrace today as a priceless gift from the Lord -- a gift to be relished and a gift to be shared with others.

May we savor today, while being heartened by that day of hope when we finally see the Lord and our other loved ones face-to-face. May we live today in light of that day.

Memento mori. Remember that you too will die.