“Get Out of My Face!”

On the sidewalk in front of the Louisville abortion clinic this morning a woman said to me, “Get out of my face!” By the grace of God I ignored her request, and she will soon have a little grandbaby as a result.

I heard the woman before I saw her, as she yelled the same words at Rick, a man among men who was trying to tell her about the absolutely free crisis pregnancy center across the street.  I started walking in their direction, and she yelled these words at me.  She had a firm grasp on her crying daughter’s arm.  I told her that we were there to help, to which she responded, “You’re not helping!”

The compassion in my heart overflowed with these words to this mother and grandmother: “Ma’am, you’re not helping her.”  She said that this was her daughter’s choice.  With only knowledge of the manner in which they were walking toward the clinic, at best this was a decision to which the young girl was not firmly committed.  At worst, this was a decision that her mother was helping her to make.

At this point I directed my attention and words toward the young girl.  I said that her mother was right in that this was her choice.  You don’t have to do this, I told her. I told them about the clinic across the street where they could get a free ultrasound and free counseling, where they would not be charged a penny for anything, a place that exists to help people in situations like theirs.

As we got close to the abortion clinic, the girl’s mother saw a sign with a picture of an aborted baby.  This picture has a dime next to the baby to give it scale, and the baby’s head is smaller than the dime.  While nowhere near fully developed, this baby is clearly human.  The arms and legs, and even the entrails exposed by the dissection across the baby’s midsection, leave no doubt about this.  The girl’s mother told her not to look in that direction.  She responded to these words as we all would have- by looking in that direction.

They walked into the clinic, which to our side surely meant the baby’s demise and the mother’s emotional destruction.  O, we of little faith! God had other plans for that baby and that mother and that grandmother.

And, O, how that grandmother changed when they came back out of that clinic several minutes later!  I have no doubt that she was convinced that she was helping her daughter on the way in, because after the daughter changed her mind and they came out of the clinic’s doors she showed her commitment to truly helping her daughter.  She despised the shame of approaching a man for help who she had opposed only minutes earlier, and told me that they wanted to get the free ultrasound.  And, how sweetly the words fell on my ears when she spoke to her daughter on the short walk to the crisis pregnancy center of how precious and loved that baby will be!

A couple short minutes later she was on her cell phone telling somebody that “she” was getting a free ultrasound, and that “she” had decided to keep the baby.  Praise God for this blessing, and for the tremendous blessing of witnessing His wonder-working power first hand!