My Eyes Were Opened

These past twenty-four hours have been some of the most eye-opening, tragic hours of my life. Oh, I’ve been familiar with the ProChoice side and how abortionists operate, but it’s different when you see it firsthand. And it’s different when you realize you’re not a political activist, but a protector of life, and even more different when you realize you can’t save every life. It’s different. My life is different.

I used to think that while the ProLife movement was often initiated by Christians, it was more of a political movement. People hold signs and try to convince people that their side is right. The more people honk, the more persuasive your argument is, and the more people agree with you, the stronger your party becomes. That’s certainly what our lovely ProChoice people think. Every honk is a victory for them. Every additional second they stand on the curb as ProLife people leave adds to their victory cry. Every opportunity to block the ProLife signs with their signs, mock the ProLifers, talk over those who witness to the incoming cars, every opportunity is a small victory.

But we’re not political activists. We’re not protesting in front of the government buildings to make them change their laws. We’re standing in front of a clinic of death, trying to convince mothers to not kill their young, trying to convince fathers to protect their own, trying to convince mothers to not let their daughters be scarred for life, trying to show women that they don’t have to resort to the culture’s standards, the culture’s “solution.”

But sometimes all we can do is watch helplessly. Last night, I watched as three generations of women, four if the baby is a girl, walked into the clinic, and came out with a solution for preventing the fourth generation from living. It’s so hard to grasp the concept that a grandmother and mother, who one would think, experienced joy at hearing that they would have a daughter or a granddaughter, would not experience that joy this time. What would have happened if they had each chosen abortion? But I’m sure it’s convenience and time. She’s too young, not married, has school or college, didn’t want to get pregnant. And maybe this is a family tradition for each one of them. Maybe all of them had abortions when it just wasn’t convenient to have a kid.

Sometimes, we just have to watch and be silent and grieve. “I had an abortion and I wasn’t ‘harmed,’” a college-age girl retorts. “Keep your rosaries away from my ovaries,” a high school girl’s sign says. “Coalition for Life’s an organization of murderers! Carhart’s a hero! He saves women!” A worker yells, drowning out a ProLifer’s plea to a client. “Good women get abortions” another sign says. “Ha! What do they think the abortionists do to women? Use a lawnmower? These crazy anti’s are acting like someone’s gonna die! Ha! Ha!” Oh yes, and the worst comment was in response to Grace’s urgent petition, as she said, “Pray! Pray for the lives of the ten women and their babies, whose lives might be ending right now!” The ProChoice response? “ Yes!!!!! Woo hoo! Awesome! Ten women!”

If hearing people cheer like this doesn’t make your stomach churn, I’m not sure what will. Ten tiny lives taken. Potentially ten women who will fall into deep depression, live dangerous lifestyles, hate themselves, live in guilt, or even have nightmares like Kelly Stauffer http://vimeo.com/27375713 .

As I stood on the street corner in almost disbelief at what I had just heard, and as I longed to engage in verbal altercations and violent sign-swinging karate moves, I was reminded of 2 Corinthians 4:1-4 that says, “Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose hope. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways. We do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly, we commend ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. And even if the gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of God in the face of Christ.”

ProLife is not a political agenda, but a statement of truth. As Christians, we are agents of truth, light, and life. Sadly, many of the ProChoice people were either naively following someone else’s lead and so, are deceived by others, or, like many of the escorts, women, and workers, are in denial of the truth and so deceive themselves. Some young guys, maybe college students, who tried to cover my sign didn’t know how to respond when I said to them, “But a woman did die under Carhart’s care.” They did not realize that abortion is actually allowing parents in many countries to exterminate baby girls, thus severely decreasing the population of women in many Asian countries this day. And I’m sure that they have never seen a diagram of how Carhart finally takes the “fetus” out of the mother. They don’t understand what they’re fighting for.

That’s why we love them, pray for them, and reach out to them. We don’t hate them. We calmly share with them the truth, knowing that only God can peel the scales from their eyes and allow them to see the truth. It’s sad and sickening at the same time to think about the reality of this life-and-death battle and the flippant attitude Pro-Aborts have. As I reflect, though, I think this type battle is everywhere. It may not be life-and-death, but it’s certainly truth versus lies. We see this in our workplaces, schools, communities, etc. We hear that it’s okay to cheat on a test, it’s good and normal to sleep around, it’s beneficial to lie in order to get an edge on our competitor. These are lies.

I think I’ve realized that while I may not be actively involved in the ProLife movement for the rest of my life, I more fully understand what “good fight” I’m supposed to participate in. It’s not a fight against flesh and blood, but it’s a spiritual battle against the deception of the “god of this age.” While I have fought blatant lies at work (e.i. my former co-teacher), I more often must confront covert, insidious lies that my students believe, such as the ideas that they cannot learn, are doomed to repeat their father’s history, are worth nothing if they’re not pretty.

Fighting this battle can be tiring and discouraging, as I’m learning this week. Not everyone sees the truth, and but by the grace of God, I would not see the truth. But I’ll end with a few promises. “We’re hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed. Persecuted, but not abandoned; perplexed, but not in despair, struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor. 4). “Do not be deceived; God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows…Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:7,9).

And my favorite verse in this battle of truth: “For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” (Habakkuk 2:14). That knowledge of God, who is Truth, will eventually reach every single person, and when it does,  we won’t have weep over lost lives.