Into the Tomb

This morning, there were times when I felt something (in a much milder form, I guess) like how the disciples must have felt on the first Holy Saturday. They were alone in the world with demons and those who wished to do them harm all about. And yet, they still believed.

On Saturdays, when the clinic has deathscorts (a very dour looking and rude lot) out on the sidewalk to prevent us from talking to women, there is often a feeling of being alone and trapped surrounded by these coworkers of Satan. We all know that murder is going on by the dozens day after day inside of Emily's, but there are walls to keep the evil in. Very little seeps out to the sidewalks where we are compared to what is inside. It is when the deathscorts come out, get in our faces, and try their hardest to keep us from saving lives that the chill of evil becomes more real.

Thankfully, Satan isn't a very smart fellow and he and his helpers in the mass murder of babies cannot win in the end. To see the deathscorts' reactions when the Sisters of Life, or as happened today, the CFRs come out to pray and sing is rather amusing. There are saints that recommended laughing at Satan. After all, Satan has now power over us, as scary as he may be.

Satan is a joke. God is in control and Satan sits in Hell gnashing his teeth because he knows that in the end he has lost. All he can do is try and drag as many poor souls as he can down into his misery to share the same lot for eternity.

Thinking of this and watching the deathscorts squirm while a friar talks to them or a sister prays certainly drives away the feeling of abandonment outside the dark Satanic mill.