A Battle of Life and Death

Last spring the YFC ministry that I volunteer for moved into a new office. Our new office is on the Hilltop, the hood. It’s an area known for gangs, drugs, violence, and broken people from broken families. On the first tour I took of the building that is now our office, I asked about our neighbors, Cedar River Clinic. I already knew I didn’t want to know the answer. Cedar River is an abortion clinic.

Every day in my office, people sit at desks, they plan, they study God’s word, they meet, they pray, worship, they love kids in the city, they encourage one another, they cry, they eat and laugh and live life. Next door the devil rages, and death takes another and another and another. I’ve walked passed it, parked in front of it, and prayed against it. I’ve wondered about how many have gone in? How many haven’t come out? Do they know about me like I know about them? I wonder if the staff would ever refer a girl to us? I want to know more, but sometimes you can’t un-ask a question. Last week I followed my wonderings, and I visited their website. My emotions flowed like a damn just broken. Anger. Sadness. Grief. Love. Compassion. Urgency. Something changed in my heart: where I had been only been standing on truth, I am now a warrior wielding the sword of truth.

It’s not as some think. “Just chose life, just keep your baby, why don’t you give it up fo

r adoption? How could a woman kill her own child? Murderer! What’s wrong with these girls? They’ll have to live with that for the rest of their lives!” Does this sound familiar? I used to sound like this. Do you sound like this? A clear picture of death has been painted and although we all know life, we’ve missed something. Death is bad and life is good, is far too simplistic. We fight death with life, but how can we fight death if we don’t understand life?

A living baby. I’ve haven’t had one yet, but this is what I do know about living babies. They cry all the time. They poop all the time. They need something almost every second of the day. Clothes. Diapers. Sometimes expensive formula. Wipes. Bibs. Medicine. Time. Attention. At 1am. And 2am. And 3am. And 4am. Although that’s God’s design, it doesn’t really sound like the joy and peace and light and purpose that we think of when we hear the word life.

Allow me to introduce you to a precious, living baby, and her mom who chose life. Sometimes I think I love them more than anyone else in the world. Mom was 15 when she got pregnant, 16 when she had her. She lives with dad, or aunt, or baby daddy, or friends. Now she’s on assistance. She doesn’t go to school anymore. She doesn’t have a job. She’s was happens when you chose life. It’s not glamorous, and could easily look like a tragedy in itself, but it’s precious beyond any earthly treasure. I want to see more like these two and less traffic at my neighbors. I want to see more life, even if it means that I’m the one changing poopy diapers at 2am. I want to choose life!

Will you please choose life? Will you bless a young mom next time you see one? Tell her you’re proud of her, and she’s doing a great job. It might be the first time she’s ever heard that. Will you buy her some wipes? And an ice cream cone? Will you change a diaper? Because that is life. That will defeat death.

“The thief comes only to steal kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” Jesus in John 10:10.