Although I stood to fight for LIFE with the pro-life officer who valued all human lives equally, clinic workers and the unborn, I was battling fear when I thought of returning to my prayer post by the driveway the coming Tuesday. I hoped the clinic workers knew that I was there praying for God to bless them, not strike them dead.
Across the driveway from my post, I began to recognize a few of the regular sidewalk advocates. They were welcoming and friendly. I was incredibly thankful when they were there. A couple of them had engaged with me, welcoming the prayer support as I welcomed their peaceful outreach to the patients.
Is it a shame? Is it really a shame that someone dares stand where someone dares look for a sign that would spare their unborn child from the lies of abortion. I should say not! We will not be ashamed.
Being the child of a pro-love activist, part of a family on a mission to pray together for an abortion doctor by name, Isaac had long been brainstorming possible solutions to abortion in his own heart and mind. He really wanted to find a way to convince the Doctor to stop choosing abortion.
At the end of those rusty rectangles, the old blue tile shone white. It was the one place on the floor that the color was entirely gone. I caught my breathe as I considered the one man who had literally worn off the floor by standing there so many times, terminating tiny hearts. I thought of the violence inflicted on thousands of wombs, pried opened there. These were the marks left by the same doctor whose name was written on my bookmark, the one I prayed for by name! His entire career and most of his life had already been spent, dedicated to this work.
We were all once small as a spark, weak and brand new. Through no choice of our own we came into existence in a womb. We were all carried by our mothers. At that time, I wondered many things about my baby. Was this the brother Isaac had prayed for? Or another daughter? And if this were a son, could he possibly be that young man I saw in an unforgettable dream?
It was this boy who sought God so faithfully for the Doctor that was urging me onward. “Mom, we should pray every day. Can we pray every day?” All of the reasons going to the abortion clinic every day seemed impossible, crazy exhausting (especially now that I was pregnant) and unreasonable flooded my mind, yet I didn’t want to discourage Isaac’s eager heart.
When I look at the box, I remember what it’s like to be caught waiting in a stuck place, a laboring place wondering how things could ever be turned from death to life. I remember that in the midst of the broken, the painful, the imperfect, the Lord is present, patiently painting a picture of His heart that is ready to step in. His timing and ways mysterious and flawless, he will set us free.
I’m preparing to unpack a journey that I have been holding on to for years, and it was many more years ago that it started unfolding. It’s a story of a fight for LIFE that I’m still in the middle of. It’s a fight we are all in the middle of whether we realize it … Continue reading Dear Abortion Doctor – A Big, Beautiful Birth Story (Introduction)
Call me a dreamer, but I have awoken with a belief that true human equality should begin when a human’s measurable life begins, at conception. We can build a society that no longer obligates and encourages medical professionals to wield instruments to inflict death within a woman’s womb, by extending legal protection to the preborn, the hidden people group. Call me a dreamer, but I look expectantly for the day when we seek to gather and acknowledge all the tears. They speak louder than all my words and dreams could dare to. The tears help us find the courage to heal, the courage to reach out to all trapped by the lie that abortion is a solution. I will not be content to abandon a single soul captive to abortion. Call me a dreamer, but I believe that we can, and we will, begin to build a pro-love society—one choice at a time.