Planned Parenthood has their own version of 40 Days for Life, well, not for Life. I guess it’d be 40 Days for Aborting Life. What I really want to know is…who do they pray to? :/
Went to see October Baby last night, loved it! I’ll tell you more about that later. Part 2 of the rally post will be up later also (see rally post Part 1). Right now I’m too pooped to do much more than this. I’m emotionally drained. Why? Because after Mass this morning (yes, I’m keeping my commitment to attend Daily Mass; pray for me!) a friend stopped as I knelt making my thanksgiving after Holy Communion. She was on her way out the door and wanted to tell me that abortions were in full swing over at Planned Parenthood, so we headed over there.
They’re usually closed on Saturdays but they were closed a lot this past week; they sure made up for lost time today. Their parking lot was packed. So sad. But a church had adopted the day as part of 40 Days for Life, so we had the sidewalk covered with prayer volunteers while there were women inside making the worst decisions of their lives. And ending the possibility for some lives to ever reach the point of making any decisions at all. Ever.
There were women outside the abortion mill, waiting for sisters or daughters or friends who were inside. Many years ago I was one of those women sitting in a car while a friend went inside to make the worst choice she ever made. Strange, isn’t it, how people always call it a “choice” but my friend didn’t feel like she had a choice at all. She felt trapped and terrified and horrible.
I haven’t seen her in years now. Don’t know how she manages to look into the eys of the kids she already had, knowing that there was another one who they will never know. Who she will never know. Who will never know what it means to live or breathe or exist outside the womb that held him until the moment the abortionist tore him apart and vacuumed him out of what should have been the safest place in the world for a little baby waiting to be born. Waiting to be held. Waiting and imagining the face that goes with the voice he’s been hearing as he grows. Never imagining the awful fate that awaits him.
God, have mercy on us. Forgive us the horrible evil that people do in our world. Your world. You have made us for Yourself, You have given us Life and offered us Love and Truth and Goodness and Beauty. And we have chosen to rip each other apart. We have chosen evil and sin and death instead. God, forgive us! Have mercy on us all. Amen.
[The following is a report from my participation in 40 Days for Life, Days 17 and 18.] Friday was abortion day at Planned Parenthood in Birmingham. On Friday afternoon the truck came to pick up what is (euphemistically, I suppose) called “waste material”. On the side of the truck it says “Protecting People. Reducing Risk.”
Ironic, isn’t it? And just a bit sickening. The most defenseless ones of all were certainly not protected and the risk they were in was neither reduced nor even acknowledged. So much for the “compassionate choice.” I’m sure you’ve heard that argument. “It’s compassionate to save a child from possible suffering.” By killing him before he even has a chance to take his first breath outside his mother’s womb? Don’t make me vomit.
Today was a quiet day on the sidewalk. The only person who stopped to talk to me today was someone who seemed familiar at the time, but I couldn’t quite place her. Until later when I remembered the first time we met. She did exactly the same thing to me today that she did that time, during the first 40 Days for Life campaign in which I ever participated back in 2009. She stopped her car in the middle of the street, rolled down her window and said, “I want to ask you a question.” Now this was simply a deception on her part because what she really wanted to do is what she proceeded to do. “Why are you encouraging women to have babies they can’t take care of? There are (blah blah blah, fill in the blank, insert your favorite non-reason here).” And it went downhill from there. She listed the same lame excuses you’ve heard over and over and no matter how many times those excuses are repeated, the repetition of them will not ever make it right to kill a baby. Not ever.
This one got me, though. “Why do you want a baby to come into this world without a daddy? There are so many people in prison now who didn’t have daddies.”
Oh, yeah, I love this one. I replied, “I didn’t have a daddy, or a mommy either. At one time, anyway. I’m adopted and I’m very glad that I’m standing here today to say this to you because someone gave me a chance. And I’m not in prison. I’ve had a wonderful life, thank you very much.”
She went on with her litany, unable to hear or think about what I’d said because she did not want to hear or think. She did not want to ask me a question or hear my answer. She wanted to feel better about some choice she made at some point in her life and she wanted to make me feel useless or worse, even terrible. But it didn’t work. I knew whose voice I was hearing. I knew that the attack was not against me. I’ve learned to recognize the voice that says these things. I’ve learned to recognize his way of acting and thinking. I’m learning what to do when I find myself suddenly face to face with him, and that is to remember that this kind can only be driven out by prayer and fasting (Mark 9:29).
So I did not argue with her. I did not continue the conversation with her. I told her to have a nice day and then I turned away and picked up where I had left off praying my rosary. Only I said a special prayer for her and mentioned her (and others like her) at the beginning of the meditation on each Mystery. I don’t want to get into an argument or a yelling match with someone who is under the ancient enemy’s power. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. And I don’t want to give him an opening into my own heart and mind.
But there is one thing I wish I’d thought to tell her before she drove away this time. I wish I had told her that I’m glad she was not my mother. Maybe it’s a good thing that I didn’t think of it until later. But maybe I’ll remember it if I ever see her again.
Peace be with you and keep praying. We are making a difference and our ancient enemy is profoundly disturbed. Thanks be to God!
My favorite time of year is not spring or summer or fall or winter. It’s Lent. I enjoy Advent and Christmas. And Easter, of course. But Lent is the season I look forward to all year. Especially since I started participating in the 40 Days for Life campaign to end abortion. There are two campaigns per year, one in the fall and one in spring. The current campaign coincides with Lent, as it did last year. This is a time of penance, fasting, prayer and alms-giving (don’t forget the alms-giving!), and spending time in peaceful prayer vigil out on the sidewalk during these forty days is a wonderful way to enter more fully into the spirit of the Lenten season. Continue reading
40 Days for Life, fall 2010 campaign, is in full swing across the country and elsewhere around the globe too. The vigil, which includes prayer and fasting to end abortion, began last week on Sep 22 and continues through Oct 31. We’ve had several people change their minds about abortions at our vigil site outside Planned Parenthood (good grief, is that ever a misnomer). We’ve also dealt with some pretty intense hostility. Continue reading