Civics Day

Praying for babies at a local abortion clinic

I rarely write on this blog about praying at abortion clinics: it's not a topic that engenders warm-and-fuzzy feelings. I have thought much about why I felt a desire to write about it this week. I know I have loved ones who are pro-choice and love me despite this difference in opinion. I know I have blog readers whose minds I won't change in this regard at this time. I don't want to inspire anger in others and I don't want people to dislike me. The reason I occasionally highlight our praying at the abortion mills is to reach out to the fellow pro-life believing friends who feel a tiny inner calling also to be a witness at the clinics, but are too afraid. If that's you, I'm talking to you!

If you are afraid, it would be helpful to examine what you are afraid of.

Some friends have told me, "I want to go pray there sometime, but I don't think I could take it, it would hurt so much." Indeed, I continue to be moved deeply every time I pray at the clinics. It's a rare time I get through it without crying. The security guards--who at our clinic are big thugs who look like gangsters--park their private vehicles right at the entrance to the parking lot and blare ghetto rap music. It is so hard to pray my Rosary with the beat of the rap thumping in my skull and the nasty lyrics. It truly feels hellish to me in a real way.

Yet so often I get to be inspired and rejuvenated in my faith by seeing prayer warriors much stronger than weak and worried little me. Friday I got to pray alongside a lady, Z----, who is in her 70s or 80s, white hair and walking with her bad leg. She's been out there a lot lately and is clearly beyond caring what people are going to think of her or even do to her. She loudly calls out loving words to women in hurting situations. She boldly walks up to cars driving on the public road to offer them literature on fetal development. Friday I watched as repeatedly she'd stand right at the line between public and private property, offering brochures, and the hulking thug who weighs probably 300 pounds stood right on the other side of that invisible line, nothing but inches of air between them. Really? We need scary "bouncers" to fend off little old ladies? We need nasty rap music to drown out the sounds of mothers praying their rosaries and young children giggling?

Meanwhile, children play along the sidewalk, being joyful, sweet, and innocent. The older children who understand more are actually praying or doing their own sidewalk counseling. Some parents are afraid of ill effects from taking children with them when they pray at clinics. Taking children to the clinics does not have to be traumatizing--but, yes, it almost surely will be sad--and it is supported strongly by pro-life leaders, such as Fr. Frank Pavone and Flip Benham of Operation Save America. Honestly, I'm perplexed why it is acceptable (even what a "fun" parent does) to show children scary media about fake subject matter (e.g., dinosaurs eating men, or white storm troopers in battle) that would certainly keep my kids up at night having nightmares, but it's too indelicate to answer honestly their dawning age-appropriate questions about a real life horror that won't keep them up at night but will probably make them cry? My children might hear some swear words or ugly shouts at the clinics and some parents might criticize us for allowing our kids to hear that: but is there the same criticism for parents who themselves swear around their kids ('oh, just can't break the habit!' ha ha!) or let their kids watch, even in the background, typical modern sitcoms that use bad language? (Here's a little tip I learned from another mom at the clinic: Teach your children to respond immediately to the instructions, "Plug your ears!" and "Close your eyes!")

Some people have expressed to me an image of what they think it's like in front of clinics and they don't want to be a part of that. Do you think that, while you're pro-life, you don't want to seem mean, preach fire and brimstone on a loud speaker, or show graphic photos of what the abortive-minded mothers are about to cause? None of those things are necessary when praying at clinics. Many folks simply pray and don't even move in to sidewalk counseling proper. Just heads down and pray, that's it. Those who do sidewalk counseling can use only loving words, offers of help, and prayers for that women to find peace in her heart instead of the turmoil she is now feeling.

If you feel that your presence won't matter much either way, let me illustrate otherwise. Right now I am reading daily email updates from the current 40 Days for Life campaign. I get to read about the saves (as they're called) every single day.

The people showing up to an abortion clinic are mostly not slick, well-educated folks exercising their free choice. We on the praying side of the lines get to talk to too many of them to fall for that media lie. Mostly these are impoverished people of ethnic minorities (the ones who have been targeted by Planned Parenthood ever since Margaret Sanger founded it: see here). Many of these women will talk to us and outright admit that they don't want to do this: they feel they have no option, they don't have the money, or--very often--the boyfriend is forcing them (sometimes even by threats and violence). It's amazing how high a percentage of these hurting women and men make a different choice when they actually talk to us and are given a choice to do otherwise: medical support for free, support with raising the child, prayer support, emotional support, safety from violent intimidation. It's my personal experience that most of the people showing up to these places of death do not feel that they have a choice whatsoever.

So, do those abortive-minded women and couples showing up for appointments deserve to be offered help? Or is shouting to them across the public-private line which we cannot cross an interference, an offense to them, an infringement of their rights to remain uninformed? Perhaps they could have just looked up online for help before making their decision. Surely they would know where to go to get assistance, right? Well, maybe not. Maybe they're ignorant. Maybe they're clueless. Maybe they're downright stupid. Don't even the ignorant, clueless, and stupid people who don't actually want to abort their babies equally deserve to be offered information about help available to them? If you think you wouldn't be doing much help, know that just your mere showing up might mean you're the person there to help someone out of a choice they don't want to make.

If praying at abortion clinics is something you've long considered doing and have hesitated to try, I encourage you. Perhaps go on a day that is less busy (usually Fridays and Saturdays are by far the busiest) to try it out. You're there to be Christ, you're there to serve Christ in others.

That same Friday, we headed over to the federal courthouse in the afternoon to participate in the nationwide Rally for Religious Freedom in response to the HHS mandate. Here in Charlotte, several hundred people showed up. The many children playing in the grass will most remember being able to catch countless inch worms. (That night during bedtime prayers, my children thanked God for getting to play with inch worms.)

On our walk back to the vans, my friend and I stopped in to get ice creams for the children.

I really don't feel like our each having three children is very many, but we spent several hours downtown and I think it was unmistakable that we were receiving various stares (seemingly of shock and awe) from the many career folks wearing slick suits who work downtown in the banking district of this fairly large city. We even received nasty shouting from one suit-clad woman. I definitely felt out of place!