The Laborers Are Few

Since we’re too far away from home to go to the abortion mill that we usually go to, we looked up the closest mill to where we currently are. We found out that they do abortions on Wednesdays and Fridays, so we went last Wednesday morning. I learned so much from being out that day.

We talked to one young lady, “A”, for a while. She took all of the information we had and let us pray for her, but eventually went inside. We then talked to her mother who said she didn’t want her daughter to do it. However, despite the tears in her eyes, she didn’t make much effort to do anything about it. “A” came out again later and we were able to share more with her. She listened, hesitated, started crying, but went back inside. She was obviously under conviction and had even told us that she knew she shouldn’t do it. As far as we know, though, she did.

Late in the morning, a woman pulled up, got out of her car, and almost ran inside. She looked like she had come straight from her job at a hair salon as she still had her apron on with her tools in the pockets. She came out a few minutes later yelling something that I couldn’t understand at first. When I began to make out her words, I realized that her pregnant daughter was inside and her grandchild was being murdered. This grandma was furious that she didn’t get to have a say in whether or not her grandchild would live. She was mad that such a thing was “legal” and even told us that we should blow the building up. My heart went out to this woman. It was too late for her to do anything, and she was grieving the loss of her precious grandchild whom she already loved and cared about.

The morning was full of interactions and conversations, but I will mention just one more. As we were getting ready to leave and had already walked a block away from the mill, a car pulled up beside us. I immediately recognized the couple inside as one that had come into the mill, so I approached the car. They asked for some of the information that we had, so I gave it to them and asked the woman if she had an abortion. She said no, so I asked if she was pregnant. She smiled and said yes. I then asked if they were going to keep their baby. The woman’s smile grew bigger and the man replied, “we think so”. I encouraged them that that was the right thing to do and God would bless that decision, and then they left. What an encouraging way to end the day! Thank you, Lord! Please join me in praying that this couple’s uncertainty would be replaced by a resolve to do what is right no matter what.

On reflecting on our day, we were saddened by the lack of people in front of the mill offering practical and spiritual help. In the words of my father: “. . . we were left with the serious question of whether there were any Christians within an hour's drive in any direction, which is the distance we drove to go to this clinic and be a witness just one time. The only two people there for a while were two Catholics. They told us the Muslims across the street have been actively involved. These were the only "evangelicals" that [this city] has to offer. "Evangelical" has to do with evangelist, evangelize, which means to tell people the good news, but the sad news is that no one will ever hear the good news that Christ came to bring from either the Catholics or the Muslims, yet they are the only ones out there with a message, with handouts, with help . . . there was a tremendous opportunity present, but not a single born again person to answer the call. Why? Where are they? Where are you?”

This made me tremendously thankful for the pro-life and gospel focused ministry that we are a part of in our area. The labors, prayers, and support of the brothers and sisters that are a part of that group are an inspiration to me! May the Lord raise up laborers in every place where precious children are killed to be a voice for the innocent and a witness for Christ to those who are spiritually dead.