Taking a Stand

I am a big time wimp. Even as a child, I was terribly afraid of things. Like snakes, and heights, and roller coasters. You know how it’s every kid’s dream to go to the amusement park and ride every roller coaster eight times? I sat on a bench with everyone’s bags and read a book. I couldn’t have been happier.

I hoped with age my wimpiness would subside, but really, it hasn’t. However, rather than physical locations, animals, or thrill rides, what I am really a wimp about these days is making a stand.

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ll know that I am pro-life. I talk about pro-life issues from time to time here. I even wrote once about my conversion from pro-choice to pro-life.

Even with my writing about pro-life issues here, I am still a wimp.

There is an abortion facility 3 blocks from my house. I have never been there to pray. In fact, despite participating in several 40 Days for Life vigils here in town, I have only prayed at abortion facilities a handful of times. I know I should be going there to pray, yet whenever I think of it, I get a huge knot in my stomach. It’s not so much about fearing what people might say/shout at me. We live in a state and city that is more pro-life than most large cities, so really, I’ve only had nasty things yelled at me a few times while praying. Also, whenever someone driving by has said something vulgar, or done something offensive (I’ve seen more than one middle finger!) I don’t take it personally. I just pray for them, that whatever they have seen or done that makes them that angry and hate-filled, that God will be with them and give them peace. It’s not about me when I’m praying out there.

No, it’s not the fear of what others will say that makes me shy away from prayer at abortion facilities. It’s what goes on there. This is a place where people die. I could only hazard a guess as to how many abortions are performed each week 3 blocks from my house, but it’s probably safe to say at least a dozen. At least 12 people are killed each week 3 blocks north of my house, and I’m going about my day, none the wiser. Except I am wiser. I know exactly what’s going on there. And I’m completely paralyzed.

Every time I think, “I should go pray at 1201 N. Arlington this week”, I immediately think, “What good will it do?”.  It won’t stop abortions from happening. It won’t save a baby’s life. All it will do is depress me. Of course, you know Lucifer is feeding me all these lines, just waiting for me to fall for them hook, line, and sinker. Like a wimp, I always do.

It’s not only the not praying thing. Actually, I don’t think all people who are pro-life are called to pray at the facilities. Especially not on killing days. The evil is just palpable. For me, it’s that I feel God is calling me to pray there during this season of life, and I am not doing it, because I am a coward.

There are other ways I fail to make a stand. I have friends and family members who are not pro-life, and who probably think us using NFP is about as crazy as possible. Rather than engage them and try to show them the truth of why we live like we do, I just prefer not to talk about it, because God-forbid we ever have a conflict. Now, if someone were to ask me about 40 days for life, or why I’m pro-life, or why we don’t use contraception, I would love to talk about it. But no one ever does, and so I am content to keep all of this truth to myself, because what could be worse than possibly making someone uncomfortable?

And it’s not just abortion either. I have very strong convictions about a lot of things, yet I mostly keep them to myself (or only discuss them with other like-minded friends, which thank God, I seem to have a lot of).

For instance, I’ve only written about capital punishment, and immigration, and the environment, a handful of times, yet these are things I am strongly convicted about. And war? Oh war. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. I’d like nothing more than to someday get arrested for trying in some way to dismantle our nation’s bloated military-industrial complex. Perhaps make the evening news as the mother of five, grandmother of 15, who gets arrested for taking a hammer to a war plane? It’s good to have goals.

I digress, but the point I’m trying to make is that I’m a big coward, and God is really calling me out on it this Lent. Mostly, He’s doing it in the form of that abortion facility three blocks away, and the tug I feel in my heart as I think of those being killed there. When I look at the sweet, innocent face of my sleeping baby, I can’t help but realize that I have to model for her the virtues I would like her to cultivate, and as painful as it might be, that will definitely involve taking a stand.

But I’ll never ride roller coasters.