Tiny Blessings

I stood in the small bit of shade at the edge of the driveway of the abortion mill. There was plenty of shade on the other side of the driveway, but then I could not see the women as they got out of their cars. If I could see them, I could call out to them with my message of hope and help if only they would choose life for their little baby! So I stood in the meager shade in this blistering hot day and every few seconds, something small and soft would drift down on my head. I looked up. This is always risky under a tree. In fact, it was under this very same tree that I had looked up last time I had volunteered as a sidewalk counselor at this particular site, and been pooped on by a bird. However, this time, what drifted down was not excrement, but tiny flower petals.

As I drove to the abortion mill yesterday morning, I had prayed fervently, "Dear Lord, bring us many soft hearts today, who need to hear your message of hope and life. And please, let there be more of You and less of me."

You see, I need to pray both those things all day long. First of all, any hearts that are softened are not due to my eloquence. As a writer and someone who loves manipulating people's thoughts and feelings with the power of well-crafted stories, I bring myself to tears with my monologues at times. So why aren't the women pouring out in droves from the abortion mills and not only saving their babies, but coming to their knees en masse to pray for salvation (and then asking for my autograph and ten copies of my latest books?) Because my words mean nothing and have no power over the soul. Only God can soften a heart and convict one's spirit. Which brings me to the second part of my fervent (necessary) prayer. More of You, God, less of me. If the women can see God, there is hope. If all they see is me, there is none.

So I stood in the meager shade, with flower petals drifting about me, and thought what a privilege it was to be there, seeing how mighty God is in our weakness. Nearly every car pulling in to the abortion mill stopped. Nearly every occupant seemed conflicted, and willing to talk with us. They all took our literature, promised to look at it, and thanked us. Within a few minutes of us arriving, one car pulled out and told us they decided not to do it. They chose life. The young couple's faces were beaming. I wanted to get their autographs, but they preferred to remain anonymous.

Another young woman, 4 weeks pregnant, told me her mind was made up, but she would take my literature and consider it. A few minutes later she drove away. The abortionist had not yet arrived. That meant that two women chose life! And less than ten cars arrived that day. One fifth of the babies slated for death had been spared.

Tiny flower petals drifted through the air, their soft fragrance imperceptible, their tiny forms barely distinguishable. They never stopped falling as I stood in the meager shade of the tree, those tiny blessings drifting around me.
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Philippians 2:13 

For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.

2 Corinthians 9:8 

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.

John 1:16 

And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

Ephesians 3:20

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,