This was the scene at North Dakota’s only abortion facility on Wednesday — abortion day.
Along with the regulars, there was a large group of young people keeping watch and singing the Divine Mercy Chaplet. Their presence seemed a powerful statement of where the pro-life movement is heading, with more and more fresh-looking faces among us. In other words, far from dwindling, we’re gaining momentum.
Last week, I wrote about my decision to start hanging out at the sidewalk in front of the abortion facility here in Fargo, ND, to pray and, when possible, talk to the girls and women and their significant others entering the clinic. It’s an effort that is sort of a last-ditch approach, but if one child is saved, if one mother’s soul is kept from being wounded, the effort is worthy of my time.
A few readers called me “courageous” after learning about my new, bolder stance. But I have to be honest. This latest step, like all the others, was part of a process. It’s taken me years to feel comfortable about being on the front lines of this battle. And even now, I approach my new place on the sidewalk with a measure of hesitancy. That said, my conviction about being more active is growing, and my timidity diminishing as I consider what is at stake, and how my silence and absence on the sidewalk will most certainly ensure nothing will change.
So how did I get from there, a college student absorbed in the pro-choice environment, to here, a wife and mother of five firmly planted in the pro-life camp?
Here are the five major steps that led me to the front lines of the prolife movement:
1. Becoming a mother. Though I was already starting to come around to the pro-life side prior to motherhood, experiencing the process of co-creation, carrying that life within me and working hard to make sure it was sustained and brought into the world really did change everything. And once my firstborn was in my life, I could no longer look at any topic with the same eyes as in my pre-mothering years. A thought became a flesh and blood reality. The profundity of this was transforming.
2. Losing a child. Miscarrying my third child, Gabriel, in 1999 gave me an even greater appreciation for life than I’d known before that loss. When my little one prematurely left this world, even before I’d been able to meet him, I allowed myself the truly feel the heaviness of empty arms, and I realized even more how precious it is to be gifted with mothering. Discovering I was pregnant three months later brought my world to life again, gave me a burst of renewed gratitude and appreciation for life.
3. Meeting post-abortive women who had lived to regret their decision to kill their children. Listening to a panel of women two years ago who had moved through the grief of killing their children, and all of the implications that had been introduced to their lives as a result of that decision, was a life-changing experience. Up until that point, I’d never really heard anybody talk about abortion in such an open way; not their own abortion anyway. The courage of these women to publicly share their experiences lit a flame within my heart that was previously quelled due to lack of knowledge, limited experience and ignorance. Boy did those gals set me straight on the spiritual warfare taking place at each and every abortion facility. They also reminded me of what post-abortive women need: love, healing and forgiveness.
4. Meeting Abby Johnson and reading her book, Unplanned. These two events are what really gave me the courage and fortitude to take up this cause in a more direct way. If Abby, a staunch pro-choice abortion-facility manager, could change, then anyone could. Along with her public witness, other crossings through the years have influenced me. I still remember what someone said to me when I was midway through my first pregnancy: “That little child within you is as much a human being now as he will be when he’s an adult person.” The words of this blue-collar man who looked at life in a very matter-of-fact sort of way struck me then and stayed with me all these years, continuing to impact me.
5. Recognizing the protective mantle around me. I’m not being overly naive here. I realize that when one enters a spiritual war zone, one is taking a risk. But staying near God in these last years, including by regularly partaking in the Sacraments and meeting with a spiritual director, has helped remove my fears. Reminding myself that the Giver of Life will always be on the side of life, I have felt more and more assured I have ample spiritual protection, and that I needn’t let fear keep me from moving into the heart of the battle. God will provide the spiritual armor. My main job is to simply be present. After all, Christ is the head, we are the body. He is in charge, but it is our legs that must do the walking, our arms that must do the embracing.
Again, this journey has not come in one fell swoop, but through a series of small (and sometimes very subtle) steps that have helped inch me closer and closer to the entrance of the place where babies enter but don’t exit, and mothers (and fathers) leave with a scar on their souls.
I’m still not exactly certain what God has in mind for me in this calling. All I know at this point is that I need to show up.
Q4U: Where have you found yourself unexpectedly showing up this summer?
This is a beautiful post, Roxane. It gives me much-needed courage to join you Wednesday. No doubt I will re-read it several times between now and then. I also plan to pick up a copy of “Unplanned”. Thank you for setting a wonderful example. I wish more people could see just how precious life is. See you soon!
MM
I think you are couragous, Roxane. I am not sure about a lot of political things (I tend to flip flop), but I am POSITIVE that abortion is wrong. The day our country decided that a mother’s “choice” is more important than a baby’s life may have been the saddest day in history. I’m grateful for people who are braver than me and can stand on corners stand up for what is right.
Marie, I can’t wait to discuss “Unplanned” with you. It’s a really good and important read. As I said earlier, I devoured it in a mere two days.
Natalie, it’s so great to see you! How are you doing?? You know, you had agreed to be a guest on Peace Garden Writer soon. Are you still up for that? I will pop by soon. I hope things are well. 🙂 Oh, and thanks for the encouragement. Of course, I agree with you. I didn’t feel brave enough when I was the mother of three, four and five busy small children, either. In time, perhaps the door will open for you as well.
I am very glad that you explained the evolution of your thoughts on abortion. The miscarriage seems to have been pivotal and, having never had one, I can only imagine the heartbreak and soul searching in the aftermath. But as a fellow traveler, I wanted to share my perspective – and you know it’s not yours..
One reason that I am very pro-choice is that I don’t think anyone can make the moral judgement for someone else. I was a young immature adult when I made the decision to abort. The experience was absolutely awful, but I have no regrets. I worked for Planned Parenthood for a while and saw others who made the same decision for the same or better reasons. That said, however, I absolutely understand how my position can tolerate yours (the “choice” in “pro-choice”) but that yours cannot accommodate mine. If you believe that, from conception, the fetus is a child, and everyone agrees that murdering “a child” is immoral, you cannot and should not believe that anyone should have the choice.
Of course, where we differ is on that “child,” part – and, as to that, I don’t believe that anyone can think for someone else. It’s much like a belief in God: no one can talk someone into it – it’s personal. I don’t believe that an argument for “genuine faith” can sway a person. I am even more certain that a confrontation of someone without belief will do much to encourage belief. Similarly with the whole conception = child debate.
So, I have thought hard about your decision to picket an abortion clinic. Your faith and moral stance are so strong that you’ve come to view the “speaking out” as an imperative. However, I think its an oversimplification to boil the issue down to “babykiller” or “mother.” I know a fetus is alive, but the immorality of ending that life at an early stage of the pregnancy is not so clear to me.
Given this view (and I will say this gently), I resist the idea that anyone has a right to confront someone who has figured it out differently. Meeting the woman outside the clinic presumes that she has not done her own soul searching and that she needs help seeing the “other side.” The people going into a clinic are the least likely to convert to pro-life because they, unlike any other group of women, have already committed themselves to the abortion decision. On the slim chance that someone will rethink her decision after having already made an appointment, picketing does little more than make what is probably the hardest day of a woman’s life worse. Isn’t that fire power better aimed at people who aren’t already on their way into a clinic and who are still open to consider your views? I feel very deeply for those women having an abortion. I hate that their decision is subject to public scrutiny on top of private pain.
I am not invested in whether you publish this – just needed to speak my mind. Thanks.
Sandra
PART I (I’ve never had a comment this long…)
Sandra, thanks so very much for sharing your side of things. It would be one boring world (and blog) if everything I said here resonated with all my readers. And partly because I’ve spent time with you in person and respect who you are, and because you’ve been very respectful here regarding a potentially volatile subject, I have no qualms about sharing publicly. Thank you for your generosity and for taking time to thoughtfully respond.
I do need to mention that though the miscarriage did make an impact, it really only helped to illuminate the path I was already on. I grieved, but I also was able to see quite early on that God was using my sadness for the good. So, though yes, deep emotions can and do play a part in our decisions, my rational brain, in the end, did just as much in helping nudge me to my current place of conviction. It’s not just about morality but about being human and allowing others the same — mothers and babies.
Before I go on, I want to point out as well the many points on which we agree. I agree that trying to force religion, faith or morals on people who have had different life experiences will never work. This certainly wasn’t the way Jesus approached his potential disciplines. Rather, he found the woman at the well, away from the crowd, and spoke to her privately. His gentle mercy is what transformed her. I think this should be the model we use in reaching out to one another, as you’ve done here and as I hope I am doing as well.
You’re also right in theory that your position appears more tolerant and can better accommodate mine than mine can yours. In a perfect world I would love for this to not be the case and for us to all live in peaceful harmony. But as you’ve pointed out, for those who believe the act of abortion is wrong, and since an innocent life is at stake (one who can’t speak for himself or herself), the ground rules do change a bit. Thanks for being understanding of that reality, though. I also need to point out that not all pro-choice people are open to the fact that those in the prolife camp really do have good intentions, and that we have stories too, just as the prochoice folks do. We are all human together. I have been called a few dirty names simply by praying in front of the abortion facility, for example. Certainly, there are always good and bad eggs on either side of the equation, like all other issues that tend to be divisive. If we can agree on that much (our humanity), that’s a good start.
[To be continued…]
PART II
I also agree that we can’t think for someone else. But again, in the case when there is another human being involved and they have no recourse, someone must. I used the example of Nazi Germany and how Christians later expressed regret over not having said more to stop the atrocities. If we believe in good conscience that a wrong is happening and we are silent, that is something that will weigh on our souls, too. But I’m with you in that I believe this must be approached with utmost grace and mercy, and not in a way that would further damage a woman who is already conflicted and tormented. Because certainly, she is thus. Even if a woman denies that the child within her is a person, on some level, she is aware. (We’ll disagree here, but I’m just sharing my perspective.) I realize that most women in this situation are not thinking of the child, though, but of their own well-being. And I understand that. That is a normal, human reaction. They are scared and don’t feel there are other options. The propensity toward selfishness is very human in that case.
The facility where I’ve spent some time on Wednesdays of late has included one regular person with a sign and it is not graphic but simply mentions adoption as a possibility. The regular people who come mainly pray, and hand out pamphlets when there is a receptiveness to it that offer information about our local crisis pregnancy help center. It’s a beautiful organization that reaches out to women and offers them help for up to a year after their baby is born or through their pregnancy if they choose adoption. To me, that is real love in action, not encouraging a mother to end her child’s life.
But I do agree, and I’ve said here elsewhere, that standing at an abortion facility is really a last ditch effort. Until recently, it didn’t seem worth it to me either and I focused on the women at the other end, supporting for example the pregnancy help center I just mentioned. Now, though, I realize that even if one life is saved through my presence on the sidewalk, if just one woman sees the light of Christ in my eyes and realizes that I come there in love, then it is not a wasted effort. I am not aggressive at all. I come in love, for both the woman and her child, and anyone else who will be affected by the loss of a soul with exponential potential.
Finally, I would never call a woman in that position a baby killer. I know that it’s not that simple. Even if, yes, she is intending to kill her child, I know it’s a complex situation and she is in emotional pain. So my motive is not to make her feel even worse, but to offer her a face of love. Maybe it won’t matter that day, but perhaps at some point down the line, she’ll recognize my face for what it was, and perhaps it will help in her healing.
Before I end, I can’t help but mention this: I was actually at the abortion facility with my daughter when your comment came in. I was reading it on my phone as we were praying/singing the Divine Mercy Chaplet with a group of teenagers. For what it’s worth, if anything.
Peace be with you and thanks again for reading and sharing.
You give alot to think about. Our differences don’t feel ugly, which is tough to manage when our thoughts are so diametric and so firmly held. I find a grace in you that inspires and will keep my eye on our common ground. Thanks for listening my friend.
Thank you, Sandra. How beautiful a thing that we can come together in love and speak our differences without condemning one another. I am equally blessed in the exchange, which speaks to me of hope. 🙂