Oh me of little faith
December 12, 2012
Yesterday. I talked with a young man (I'll call him Samuel) who had just exited from the abortion facility. He was a nice looking man, clean shaven, neatly dressed, in his 20’s or 30’s, strong. I thought I recalled talking to the couple when they entered and giving them literature. Now sitting in his car, he looked so sad... hurting... somber. But composed. He was smoking a cigarette (not unusual for the fathers to do that), but it didn't look to be something he did very much. She, the mother of his child, had just gone "to the back" (to the abortion room). Now the wait.
I told him we can "hope for a miracle" that she will come out. "Jesus can do that!" (Oh dear God, please come into her heart, protect her, give her strength, bring her out, I prayed.)
Samuel shared that they were recently married. He didn't say "who" was to blame. (Oh Lord... WHY DID THEY COME HERE??? I cried in my heart.) For some reason it was placed on my heart to talk about what happens afterwards, not wanting them to just "go away" without having somewhere, someone, someplace to turn to for healing. We seldom (almost never except in rare occasions like this one) give out post-abortion healing / Rachel’s Vineyard™ information before the procedure has occurred. We always hope and pray that the abortion won't happen. At this point, near the end of the day, it was highly possible the procedure had already started. And this couple would need help, especially if she didn't come out of there soon.
This abortion would change their relationship. I explained, "She is going to be 'different' afterwards... and so will you." Samuel kept a steady gaze down at the ground, occasionally looking up. He was open to talking and willing to hear. "Your marriage is going to change. You will both have to forgive each other for even thinking of doing this. And this may sound harsh...." I paused and he looked straight into my eyes. "You will both have blood on your hands from now on... with an abortion between you." He nodded. He knew. We continued to speak quietly. Some more was said, and soon I had to go … commitments elsewhere. Many times it is hard to leave the sidewalk. It was particularly hard this time.
Back on the sidewalk today, a woman approached with tears in her eyes. She already had her first appointment at the abortion center yesterday. We vaguely remembered her; thought she was alone. We weren’t sure. So many come each day, sometimes over a 100 within a few days, many repeat “customers”. But today she wasn’t a “customer;" she needed real help. So my fellow counselor walked with her to the nearby pregnancy resource center.
Again, our time on the sidewalk was almost over. Before I left, I went to the pregnancy resource center to do a little paper work. Finishing up, I heard the sound of a man's voice drifting in from somewhere down the hall. In a hurry, I filed my paperwork and headed to leave. Near the front door was the woman who had come crying, asking for our help less than an hour before. She began crying again when she saw me, and started to say those wonderful words, "If you hadn't been there... " Then I spotted him – the man’s whose voice I heard. It was Samuel! It was Samuel with his precious, still pregnant, wife!!
I cannot describe the feeling in my heart. I pulled air into my mouth several times, not being able to let it out. We hugged... all three of us (plus 1!)... just holding each other in joy. We whispered praises to each other – praises and thanksgivings to God and to each other.
So what happened the day before? Somehow the clinic had messed up her paperwork and the procedure was postponed (never heard of that happening before). So she left. She came out ... into the loving arms of her husband. She and Samuel left that horrible place and returned today for help for their baby and themselves. "What would have happened if...", she said. But it didn't. The Lord had poured down graces in great abundance. Hearts were opened; spirits were strengthened; all were protected.
Praising Holy Triune God, still this night, with all our hearts.
Tags: Sidewalk Counseling, Stories from the Street