Saturday Morning

The local 40 Days for Life campaign continues year-round, bolstering the efforts of the sturdy pray-ers who have been there years. I've been meaning to join for at least a little bit of time for a couple weeks, a couple weeks ago being the time when I discovered this fact. Yesterday, I finally did.

It took me until senior year of college to go to an abortion facility. Our CCM/SFL took part in the 40 Days for Life in Richmond. At that site, we stood just outside a stand-alone facility and watched cars drive past us into the parking lot, where we could see women walking into the clinic building, then being led outside to the connecting abortion room. Later, we could see them come out and stand in the courtyard behind a black fence, waiting for their rides. My first Saturday afternoon, I watched a young woman walk out to her boyfriend's car. Two things stood out sharply in the sunlight from their actions and body language: she was hurting badly, and he loved her so much.

This Saturday, we stood a further distance from the abortion facility near here. This one shares a wall with the local pregnancy resource center. The women there can hear the suction machine. We did not have that proximity; the cars on the street could see us better than anyone at the facility. Apparently in past weeks, the people on the street had made an impression, because a lone man stood across the street holding signs that read: "Pro-Choice" and "Her Body, Her Choice."

I discovered once again that after an hour had gone by, I did not want to leave. I wanted to stand on that sidewalk until that abortion facility closed its doors for good. Unfortunately, I had plans in Delaware and had to get on the road.

One comment from the road made me want to call back: a passer-by called out, "Get a life!" and I really wanted to answer, "I'm trying!"

I didn't think it was an appropriate pun moment.