Saturday, May 20, 2017

"My Boy" -- the Changing of a Mother's Heart

watching baby herons in the treetops when I finished speaking for the babies at the abortion center sidewalk
Yesterday, three mothers chose to leave the busiest abortion center in the Southeast with their babies still safe in their wombs. While I was there, I got a text picture from a mom who chose life for her baby two months ago. She sent me the ultrasound picture that showed her baby was a little boy. She had been hoping for a boy and was overjoyed.


She added the text message, "My boy."

Those two words meant the world to me. This was a mother I met at the abortion center who spoke no English, but through the miraculous appearance of an interpreter who spoke her language, we were able to convince her to choose life for her unborn child rather than abortion. Over the next two months, I often received texts in broken English,  saying, "Thanks you."

I recently had a training session for a passel of new Cities4Life volunteers. With my terrible technical skills, I managed to put together a slide show of some of the babies I have had the joy of holding as a result of my 3 1/2 years of ministering on the sidewalks of the abortion center. It was overwhelming to look back at the dozens of babies who were now present and being deeply loved by their mothers as a result of the work of Cities4Life.

In the session, I reminded the new volunteers that one of the most important messages (besides the Gospel) that we need to impart to these abortion minded women is the humanity of the baby. If the mothers can somehow distance themselves from the fact that what they carry in their womb is indeed their son or their daughter, they can more easily follow through with the terrible act of a mother killing her own child.

My boy.

Those two words told me all I needed to know about the young mother who had wanted to abort just a short time ago. Her heart had transformed. She had fallen in love. She had acknowledged the unmistakable fact that the child she carried was her son, a living, human being of sacred, inestimable value.

My boy. 

After leaving the abortion center sidewalks Friday, I hurried to the river. My kayak was already in my car. (It always is. You never know when you may drive by an irresistible body of water.) I arrived later to the river than I'd hoped as two other counselors and I waited hopefully for a conflicted mom to leave the abortion center. We waited a long time to a grievous conclusion. She had aborted her child.

The river is always a solace, and a place of restoration for me. God's beautiful world always speaks to me of His love and provision. Yesterday was no different. I glided along, letting the silky breeze do its restorative work across the day's ups and downs when I heard a raucous squawking in the treetops.

A mother heron had just returned to the nest with a fish, and her two babies were screeching with greedy hunger. She stuffed their mouths as fast as she could. I watched, transfixed by the selfless love of the mother for her young.
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Isaiah 49:15

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.

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