Knowing When to Quit
Betty
When I first started going out to the abortuary, it was a very volatile place. There was considerable antagonism between the camps with proaborts screaming obscenities and prolifers yelling back. One could barely do more than watch the mothers going in for all the unproductive interaction.
So, I prayed and told the Lord I wasn’t at all sure what good could be done by being onsite. As I prayed the idea of blankets just popped into my head. Naturally, I started crocheting like mad. Then I took two and proceeded to take up station on the sidewalk outside the mill. Let me tell you, I got some mighty strange looks from those going in and some rebukes from those who preferred things as they were. But, it wasn’t long before a mother came out completely blown away by the idea that a total stranger loved her child so much that they would make them a special blanket, (most were large, colorful afghans).
For me such a gentle
gesture, while pleading with mothers to “cuddle not kill” and offering the
information necessary for them understand the reality of their choice along
with a New Testament, was far more acceptable and productive than the
confrontational style I’d witnessed. So, I continued in it seeing many saves
and changed hearts along the way. I believe that my less offensive approach is
the reason why post-abortive mothers would occasionally stop to ask me to pray with
or for them, a request I willingly accepted.
One of the things one learns to deal with as a witness is that some people cannot be helped until they been through the fire. It was important to me, though, to know that I had made the argument logically and that my information was spiritually and physically correct. So, if there seemed to be a misunderstanding, I would attempt to clarify until I was certain the truth was known. At times I could see the reality of what I’d shared come to life in their reactions. Sometimes the Spirit would assure me I’d been understood. Sadly, this did not always result in a choice for life.
For some the need to be “right” negates the truth. So, knowing and responding appropriately pass like strangers in the night. I’ve seen it many times and not just with the abortion minded. Many professing Christians are also expert at appearing innocent while ignoring the truth he or she has clearly understood. For me this is where the argument ends. The guilt of not sharing what I know has then passed to the one who rejected such knowledge by virtue of their hardened heart.
With post-abortive mothers my instinct is to wrap them in a motherly embrace and cry with them. I know the lies they’ve been told by those who promote the slaughter ill-prepared them to look upon the dead bodies of their precious little children. With Christians, I’m far more likely to give them over to the punishment they’ve left themselves open to, especially when the Spirit assures me they rejected His conviction.