I was looking at a gray six foot fence. The Little Rock Family Planning clinic which performs abortion procedures on the other side of the fence. The parking lot around the facility, with the exception of a few cars here and there, was empty and void of humanity, save for the long-haired security guard sitting at the front door. Why is there a guard? This facility’s mission is not about preserving the dignity of valuable human life. Is he guarding the “rights” of innocent unborn life brought inside its eerie corridors? Surely you jest. The situation is hopelessly contradictory; the mother’s- to -be are guaranteed the right by PP’s “human resource dept.” and Roe v. Wade, to deprive their unborn of their protection.
As I walked a bit down the sidewalk to join the others in group prayer, I glance at the guard, who looks at us curiously. Pray-ers and sidewalk counselors are here everyday and yet the killing continues.
Do I sound cynical? Perhaps I do. Perhaps because as I stand shoulder to shoulder with brethren to plead for the closing of this wretched place, and to spare the lives of babies and the sanity of their mothers, a medical supply truck slips in the driveway loaded with fresh oxygen and anesthesia tanks used for the ghastly procedures. Perhaps because life around us is going on as usual; nothing wrong here. A woman pulls up and asks one of us is she knows where so-and-so is. Sorry, she was not that familiar with the neighborhood, she was “just here praying.” Ok. The woman drives on as if we were not standing there and she did not hear what she said.
What are we passionate about? What moves us?
Perhaps I sound cynical because as I offered the prayers of those who were not with me, and asked the Blessed Mother to pray for the conversion of souls in the clinic, I hear blue jays and mockingbirds singing. As I listen to their lovely chirps, I start to cry; they have freedom to sing and play; the babies inside do not. How can we as a country allow this to happen? what has happened to us?
Then I become aware of something else. I think about the disciples in the boat when it started to storm. The waters were raging and the boat was tossed to the point it was going to turn over. The disciples became afraid and desperate. Lord, where are You????? Don’t You care?
Then, a still small voice. Yes, K, I am with You. I know all about what’s happening. I hear yours and your loved ones storming heaven with your petitions.
The peace mixes with the chirps.
“Be not afraid.”