To read from the beginning of this memoir: Click Here
Christmas Abortion
The week before Christmas at the clinic was especially hard.
I don’t know why I held this hope that there would be less abortion, but I did. (Holidays are known to be busier.)
The first day surgical abortions were offered, the cars kept pouring into the lot, traffic jams in the narrow driveway, until it was packed, overflowing onto side streets. At the end of the few hours, the other sidewalk counselors and I figured there had been approximately 25 of them. I thought of the pain many of these families were sure to face at the next Christmas.
Instead of Christmas kisses from their adoring infants, they would hold this cold memory of this day at the clinic. Here this day, it was likely that twenty five babies had been ushered into the arms of The Christmas Baby.
I rocked with Noah in my womb, crying while I sang my heart my heart out with an album that I had downloaded onto my cell phone where it payed tucked behind my heart sign. The songs of Kari Jobe’s, Majestic all seemed like they were specially made for this time and this place.
“In the valley of the unknown
I will lift my voice
In the shifting, in the shadow
I know You are with meLord over all
You will be my rescue
You will never fail
Lord, through it all
I will choose to trust You
You will never failIn the searching and the waiting
You quiet my soul
In the stillness of Your presence
I know You are with meOut of this darkness
Into Your promise
You will deliver me
Eternal Savior
You stand forever
You are my victory”Kari Jobe – Lord Over All
I would later learn that Kari’s mother was pushed by doctors to abort her and refused! Yet how precious that here at the clinic it was her voice and heart in worship that lifted my soul giving wings to my prayer.
In the interview where her mother shared about the health issues that led the doctor’s to recommend aborting Kari, Kari shared how she longed to bring others to the Lord through worship,
“I remember saying to the Lord, “God, I would like to be able to write songs and be a part of your Kingdom in the way of helping broken people.”
Although death seemed to hold the upper hand here, Kari’s gift reminded me and held me in awe of the King of Life’s love and eternal victory over the spirit of abortion.
Curses and a Kiss.
“You are horrible mother you fucking b—-!” Every day for a while a familiar male voice would taunt me from a passing vehicle. This fellow came up with a new curse every day.
“Get a job! Go feed the homeless! Go to hell!” were other common shouts. People failed to realize that my presence at the abortion clinic wasn’t something I chose for brownie points from strangers. I was there to wrestle with God for a promise.
I wasn’t there to judge or shame. How could I be when I was in the same boat as the rest of humanity? There had been a time in my own life when the whole world seemed to turn upside down on me and in my despair I wound up with a handful of poor choices and a heart full of devastating consequences. At that time, I needed love and support, not condemnation. Some of those close to me loved me enough to offer the truth and provision to make healthy choices. BIG NEWS FLASH! I wasn’t the perfect person, the perfect Christian, or the perfect pro-life advocate. Jesus was the one I needed and pointed others toward.
Besides that fact, all the hungry people in the world do not cancel out the injustice of abortion. Nor does pointing out the tragedy of children in foster care (who we collectively provide for) make terminating unborn children a solution. Or this one, “We need to love those that are already here.” (I agree!) The pre-born are also already here!
I believed we could love and serve all of them and their families, and as a community we should. I believe we should collectively do more for low income mothers and young children when it comes to life affirming healthcare. I couldn’t do it all personally, but I was connected to a vast network of organizations committed to women and their families. (This article articulates well the reason that all those accusations shouldn’t prevent us from working in love to end abortion: Click Here)
One day a strange succession struck me.
The first car passes with a long, hard honk before I even arrive at my spot by the clinic driveway, and I see the angry woman with both hands on the steering wheel flipping me off.
The second car jars me with another scowling face and angry horn.
Directly behind the second, a third car! I see this man driving the car holding both hands up on the steering wheel, in the shape of a heart, with a smile toward me.
I was floored. How had he known? How far ahead had he planned this blessing, because it must have involved some forethought to have a heart ready. I cried. It was as if Jesus had kissed my cheek through the curses.
A Long 40 Days With a Sleepy Disciple 