In her most recent column, "The purpose-drive left," Coulter tells the story rarely told by the media:
Nichols' murderous rampage began when he took the gun from a 5-foot-tall grandmother who was his sole guard at the Fulton County Courthouse. It ended when an otherwise unremarkable 26-year-old woman appealed to the Christian conscience of this same violent killer holding her hostage.
At 2 a.m. one Saturday night, Ashley Smith went out for cigarettes while unpacking her new apartment, yet another victory for tobacco pleasure. Returning from the store, Smith was grabbed by a man at her front door, who put a gun in her side and told her not to scream. He asked if she knew who he was. When he removed his baseball cap, she saw it was Nichols, the dangerous fugitive all over television who had escaped custody during his rape trial and had killed four people in the previous 48 hours. (Although he also looked a lot like of one the guys on "American Idol.")
In Smith's apartment, Nichols bound Smith's feet and hands and put her in the bathtub. Later, at Smith's request, Nichols allowed her to hop from the bathroom into the bedroom, where she began talking to him.
In short order, Smith was reading aloud to Nichols from the Christian book "The Purpose-Driven Life" -- in direct violation of his constitutional right to never hear any reference to God, in public or private, for any purpose, ever, ever, ever! For more on this right, go to the "People for the American Way" website.
After reading the first paragraph of Chapter 33 aloud, about serving God by serving others, Nichols -- the man pundits were calling an "animal" -- asked her to read it again.
Nichols listened to the passage again and responded by telling Smith he was already dead, saying, "Look at my eyes." But Smith looked and told him God had a purpose for him, perhaps to minister to other lost souls in prison. Smith read to Nichols some more, both from the "Purpose" book and from another popular book that's been dropped from all news accounts of this incident: the New Testament. (In the Hollywood version, Smith will be reading from the Quran.)
Smith knew all about Nichols' violent depredations from television. Yet she saw him not as a monster, but as one of God's creatures. Most Christians -- most people -- have trouble seeing the humanity of people who take our parking spots. Smith could see God's hand in a multiple murderer holding her hostage. By showing him genuine Christian love, Smith turned Nichols from a beast to a brother in Christ. This phenomenon, utterly unknown to liberals, is what's known as a "miracle."
As a self-professed language butcherer (see) I can appreciate Ann's clever insertion of parentheticals in this particular column. Moreover, I appreciate that she has precisely nailed this issue.
The Brian Nichols portrayed on television was not the Brian Nichols sitting with Ashley Smith. Nichols himself admitted that his actions were quite unlike him. Coulter continues:
Nichols told Smith she was "an angel sent from God," calling her "his sister" and himself her "brother in Christ." Nichols said he had come to Smith's home for a reason, in Smith's words, that "he was lost and God led him right to me to tell him that he had hurt a lot of people."
Amazing. I am less irritated about the lopsided coverage of a black murderer and a white murderer than I am about the media's preference to spend more time vilifying a black man than they would reporting on his repentant attitude as a result of *gasp* God. Who knew He worked?
Apparently, not Christians. It never fails to amaze me how collectively distracted American Christians can become. Post-trauma, while the news media was busy glossing over key parts of the Nichols surrender, Christians were too distracted, yammering about how they don't like Rick Warren (author of "The Purpose Driven Life"), and being critical of the fact that Ashley Smith would get the full amount of Federal reward money for helping the police capture Nichols.
When all is said and done, yes lives were lost and that's not to be taken lightly. But we certainly can smile in knowing that there is redemptive value in aspects of this tragedy's end.
I like that title: Purpose-Driven Surrender. It has a hint of oxymoronishness.
Maybe Mr. Rick can use it for his next blockbuster book.
There really is no purpose to surrender, other than survival. We come to a point where we feel like we cannot go on until/unless we surrender to God. That's when He blesses us, that's when He can use us.