There is always a tension on the sidewalks of the abortion mill. There's a dramatic spiritual battle going on between the forces of good and evil. The women, conflicted with feelings of guilt, despair, sadness, worry, trauma, and fear intermingling with deep maternal instincts, often lie to us as to why they are there. We are trained to ignore what might not be the truth, and to always counsel as though a precious innocent baby's life is hanging in the balance. I try to proceed with that premise. No matter whether they say they are there for a manicure, or dropping off a friend, or just passing through on their way to buy milk, I counsel as though they are there for an abortion. I remind them that abortions are all that happen in that building which at least curtails some of the lame excuses.
Monday was one of the strangest cases in my young career on the sidewalks of the abortion mill. Two women pulled into the parking lot. One got out and went into the mill. The other turned when I called out begging her to get her friend out of there and give us a chance to show her another way.
"Oh I'm not here for an abortion," she told me.
Yeh, yeh....and I'm a fried zucchini. Tell me something I haven't heard a million times this week.
"Then let me talk to you about your friend in there," I called.
"Oh she's not here for an abortion either," she said.
"Come close so I can talk with you. Please, I have literature that will help. At least bring this in to her."
The woman approached me.
"It's my daughter that wants the abortion," she explained.
"To terminate the life of your grandchild?" I asked. (We are advised to always humanize the act of abortion since...well, the baby is human. Still, I probably ought to work on my finesse.)
"Yes," she said, a little sorrowfully, "But I can't stop her. It's her choice."
I explained how she might be the only voice urging the daughter to choose life, that the repercussions of abortion were life-long, and that any obstacle she could raise would not justify killing her grandchild. Also, we could help with every one of the hurdles if she would give us a chance.
"Bring your daughter out," I begged, "Or at least bring her this literature."
"But that's not my daughter in there," she said again, "That's my sister."
I was confused now. Was abortion to be a family activity? Then she said something about a cousin, but my immediate concern was where was the abortion-minded mother...and who?
"Where's your daughter?" I asked.
"Home. We are just bringing her some information. She's pretty far along."
I spoke quite a while with the woman, and then prayed with her. She felt abortion was wrong, but noted that there were many terrible stresses her daughter faced. The sister came out with some papers. The abortionist had not arrived, so if she was the pregnant one, she still carried her baby.
"Give us a chance," I urged the woman, "Bring your daughter this booklet and have her text me. Here is my number. No matter what she decides, would you text me?"
She hugged me, and promised she would. Since by now I expected the entire nuclear family was getting abortions, I knew the booklet might fall on at least one set of receptive eyes.
The rest of the day went by. No text. The following day, I was on a bikeride when I got a text from the daughter! I will call her Z. I almost went off the curb in my joy but righted my bicycle before any dangerous collision with oncoming traffic.
"Miss Vicky, this is Z. You talked with my mom yesterday. She told me you wanted to talk with me. I am pretty far along. I was going to go to NY for the abortion."
"If you will meet me Wednesday, I can get you a free ultrasound. We can talk. We can help you," I texted, which was no mean feat while riding a bike.
"Well, I guess I could give you all a chance," texted Z.
"Bless you! Tomorrow at ten?"
The story was a little fishy, according to some of the seasoned counselors with Cities4Life. Why was the daughter left home while the mom visited the abortion mill? Why was the aunt along? Who was the cousin? Just who was getting the abortion? If she was so far along that the mill couldn't kill her baby, she had to be more than 20 weeks pregnant. We wondered if she was just scamming the system -- intending all along to keep the baby but wanted the free services she could get from us by posing as an abortion-minded Mom. There are many groups that help at risk mothers, but Citie4Life's mission is to turn mothers' hearts from abortion and then support them through that decision. With limited resources, we need to be careful that our services go to the women the organization is intended to help.
"The Grandmom seemed sincere," I said, "And if she was lying she should get an Academy Award because she sure fooled me. But I'm a sucker and always take the optimistic view. I will need someone with me who will be able to discern if we are being lied to."
So they sent me Mary, a wonderful fellow side-walk counselor, and assured me that Mary and the two nurses on the free ultrasound RV would be able to sniff out a fake.The next day at 10:00, I paced outside the RV, waiting for Z. Would she come? I have learned that very often follow-through is not optimal with these women in crisis.
Z arrived with a carful of people! Praise God, she had come! Her uncle had driven her, and her younger sister was accompanying her for support. I greeted them, and introduced them to Mary. The uncle left, and the full flotilla of counselors and nurses now crammed into the RV. My job was over, except the most important part: prayer.
Z was very quiet. She seemed scared, but mostly just compliant. She seemed to have the personality that would go along with whatever she was told to do. We discovered that the aunt and the cousin had both had abortions, and were the ones counseling Z to go to NY for her late-term abortion. On the other hand, the uncle, who had a child of his own, seemed to be on the pro-life side, which I had felt was true of Z's mom, as well. The sister was there to support Z in whatever she wanted to do. Z had been taking prenatal vitamins, but had not yet seen a doctor or confirmed the pregnancy...although she was clearly pregnant. She thought she was around 5 months along. She was told to provide a urine sample first, as legally, the pregnancy had to be confirmed before the nurses could proceed.
Mary and the nurse asked many questions, and then we all got to head over to the ultrasound. Z began to look interested as the pictures on the screen formed. The baby was big, and so only sections of her body could be scanned at a time. We saw a clear leg, and backbone, and beating heart. Z, who had barely spoken, begged us to show her the baby's head. I felt pretty sure when she looked so eager to see her baby's face that any conflicted thoughts had vanished. The ultrasound seemed to indicate the baby was a girl which is what Z hoped for.
Afterwards, the nurse, Sherry, beautifully segued into a discussion of the miracle of life and the Gospel. Mary supported and enhanced the message. There was a knock on the door and it opened to the uncle, who was invited in. The three of them sat listening to the beautiful and simple presentation of the Gospel.
Sherry gave Z a Bible, and suggested she might want to start at the book of John, which talks about the love of Jesus.
"You've probably heard John 3:16, For God so loved..."
"...the world that He gave His only begotten son," finished Z softly.
A woman of few words, but what words she chose to utter!
I handed Z a bible tract I had with me that gave an easy understanding of the salvation message. Sherry handed a different tract to the sister. Then she gave one to the uncle that was in comic book form. The uncle began reading the comic book with rapt attention, and didn't look up again till he was finished.
"So," said Sherry finally, "What have you decided? Have you chosen not to abort?"
"I will," said Z softly, looking down.
"Abort?" asked Sherry. We all held our breath, surprised and dismayed.
"No. I will keep my baby," said Z.
I walked them all back to the uncle's car and told them a story of a man I had seen the day before flipping a huge heavy tire down the sidewalk. I told them that was like the burden of life for me before I knew Jesus. But once I knew Jesus, it was like rolling the tire down the sidewalk, which was the far better way to move a heavy burden like that. As they all got in the car, I hugged them, and told Z to stay in touch. She promised she would.
And you know what? I believe her.
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