Reflection and Prayer

It's been a few days since my last day working for EMC, but I find myself constantly thinking about the experiences of the summer. Although I may not remember the names or faces of all the women I worked with, each one of them continues to be with me, unexpectedly remembered in the middle of my everyday activities. We collided briefly, and in that short interaction I hoped to plant a seed that would save a baby's life. Reflecting on this experience has been hard, because I don't want to admit that I've left it behind. Part of my heart is still with these women and children, with this work, and with the community of people who worked beside me and to whose support I am indebted.

I came to the realization, however, that although I am no longer physically working with EMC, I am still a very important part of this mission. Through prayer, I can continue to serve in communion with those still working for EMC. I would of course encourage any readers of this blog to consider this internship themselves. But if that isn't feasible, I ask that you join me in prayer for EMC and its work, so that a constant stream of supplication may be offered to God for the lives of the children we seek to protect.

Everyday Miracles

I tell my friends that in this job, you get used to seeing miracles happen. So often, a baby is saved not through our own actions, but through the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of these women. I saw this clearly last week with several of my turnarounds.

One of these girls I had originally seen a month ago. We had lost touch, and I had no clue what was going on with her. Then she showed up at another one of our offices a few days ago, thinking we were an abortion clinic. I had actually seen her name in the appointment book, and made sure I was there. For the second time in a month, she had stumbled into the truth. And such a powerful truth—while watching a video we routinely show the girls, she suddenly fainted and vomited. I was shocked, because I’d never seen anyone react to this video so strongly. All of us quickly gathered around to make sure she was okay. Even as she had to deal with these strong emotions, there were loving people supporting her. She later called me to tell me that she was going to keep her baby. God made sure that she was exposed to a truth she could not ignore.

I saw another such miracle last week outside of Dr. Emily’s. After giving a girl a sonogram and talking with her for awhile, she left without making a decision. Then out of the blue she called me back to thank me, saying that she was keeping the baby. She told me that the night before her appointment at the abortion clinic, God had told her in a dream not to kill her baby. Up until this dream, she hadn’t even believed in God. But between hearing His voice in the dream and running into me at the abortion clinic, she knew God was sending her a message.

It is for this reason that I always tell the girls that it is God who brings them to us. Just as He put the baby inside their womb for a specific reason, He brings them into contact with us for a reason. These everyday miracles are the work of God in the lives of these women.

Redemption

Although most of the work we do is with women who are still considering abortion, we still do very important outreach to those women who are post-abortive. It is absolutely necessary to reach out to these women, because it is only the pro-life movement that recognizes their pain and allows them to grieve. Part of this ministry happens outside Dr. Emily's, as Grace and Sean discussed in their post. Yet we also deal with some of the longer lasting repercussions in our clinics.

Even if there were not so many other reasons to be pro-life, the experiences of so many of these women would be reason enough. Just this past week, two girls shared with us the the story of a sister and a friend, both of whom attempted suicide after an abortion and were committed to psychiatric wards. In a culture where abortion has become an "easy solution," such cases are frighteningly common. Even women who have hardened their hearts against the pain, and come to our offices seeking yet another abortion, will often be unable to discuss their prior abortions without a great deal of emotional pain. Sometimes it is not until I begin listing the symptoms of post-abortion syndrome, such as depression or anxiety attacks, that they finally begin to realize just how many of their problems over the years stem from their abortions.

Healing from an abortion is obviously difficult and complicated. Yet one of the great joys in this work is offering these suffering women a hopeful future. When a post-abortive woman turns around in our clinics, the decision is especially powerful. Although the babies lost can never be brought back, there is great redemption in choosing to protect and love the baby they hold within their womb.

Building a Community

The other day I worked with an older woman who said she wanted a pregnancy test. I was mildly surprised, because she looked too old to be pregnant, but I began filling out the entry form with her nonetheless. Then she said she was 59. Confused, I asked her when her last period was, and she said she hadn’t had it in 20 years. At this point I tried to give a basic biology lesson, but the woman didn’t want to listen. Instead she kept talking about the lump in her stomach. Finally I asked her when she last had sex, and she said it had been 15 years. By now I was at a total loss for words, because I really didn’t know how else to convince this women she wasn’t pregnant, especially when she refused to believe the negative pregnancy test. In the end, all I could do was suggest she visit a doctor and laugh it off.

This story stuck in my mind partly because it was humorous, but partly because it was one instance where EMC had become part an integral part of a community. The woman’s niece had brought her on the advice of a pregnant friend whom I had been working with, and the niece herself asked for literature to give to a friend who had gotten several abortions. These women were turning to us when they needed help, even with a crazy situation like this. Such a trust is the foundation upon which our best work can be built.

A Kind of Love Called Hope

One of my favorite parts about this summer has been the beautiful sense of community the interns have in the house. Gathered from so many different places, sharing the most important values of faith and family, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we truly enjoy spending time with each other.

Every night we'll discuss our days with each other, sharing both the moments of joy and those of sorrow. Encouragement, advice, support, and prayer are all offered. And though the girls I have personally seen are usually the ones who stay with me, occasionally another intern's experience will hit home.

Laura and I go over our days together almost every night; she's not only my housemate but my roommate, and one of my closest friends here. Wise beyond her years, calm and thoughtful, I know she has touched many girls this summer and her presence has been a blessing to everyone in the house as well.

Last night she told me a story of a young girl who came into her office -- maybe 17 or 18 -- a young girl who had every socially acceptable reason to abort her child: difficult childhood, history of abuse, lack of familial and spousal support. But after discussing her situation for a bit with Laura, she decided to keep her baby. She decided to defy conventional wisdom, and the odds against her, and she decided to choose life -- a better life for herself, and life at all for her child.

Laura, she who might be the most mature 19-year old I have ever met, was marveling at the wisdom of this girl who had come into her office. And one phrase she repeated to me, which I know I won't forget. "There's a kind of love called hope," the young girl said -- her explanation of her choice.

There's nothing I can add to the exquisite and simple truth this girl gave to Laura, which Laura gave to me. There's a kind of love called hope . . . what that we could give that love to every girl we meet.

A Portrait of the Future

Today I worked with a woman whom I first met while counseling last week. She has since gotten a sonogram, and today I took her down to meet with the Sisters of Life. I was struck by the difference in the woman in just the past week. At first glance, she seemed to be the same determined woman working her way through school and supporting her child. Yet her attitude was subtly different. She came in this time seeming so much more relaxed, and was more willing to talk and joke around with the people around her.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere at the Sisters that did this, the peaceful and prayerful presence that surrounds such holy people doing such important work. But I think it was something deeper, a hope sustained by the people working to find her housing and a job. Her boyfriend and one year old son had come with her, and I could see that as we worked with her, she could begin to envision a home and family. Such a vision offered a world in which a baby was possible. Painting this vision for women is often key to our work, because it allows a woman to look beyond the fears of the present. As this woman considers the help offered by the sisters, please pray that she will do the same and make a choice that ultimately protects her baby.

Telling Mom

One of the lessons we have to keep in mind at the Lifehouse is that even when we have cases that seem hopeless, we may be planting seeds in someone’s heart. I was blessed to see this happen this past week with a young girl whom I counseled. Only 15, she came in frightened, accompanied by a friend who was the only person who knew she was pregnant. I’ve never seen anyone so frightened of telling her mother anything. When the mother called to check on her, she and her friend had an elaborate lie worked out about where they were.

The counseling session seemed unproductive. The girl was too desperate to listen to reason, and in too much of a hurry to “get the thing out” to stop and consider what she was doing. Recognizing how alone she felt, I suggested she talk to her mother. Yet, in my heart, I didn’t even expect her to show up for the sonogram appointment, much less open up to her mother. I was delighted, then, when I got a text from her a few days later. She had talked to her mom, who had been in the same situation at age 16. Because she regrets the abortion she got then, the mother wants her daughter to keep the baby. The daughter was so happy to have such love and support just when she thought she was most alone. And I learned an important lesson about how the Holy Spirit can use a few words spoken in passing to transform a terrible situation.

Wisdom

We were watching Jeopardy tonight in the lifehouse. The show manages to be remarkably engaging, perhaps because of those high-tense moments when everyone watching knows the right answer, but the favored contestant just can’t seem to figure it out. Sometimes I feel like it’s that way with some of the women we council. Under the stress of their lives at the moment, the best choice is obscured, even while those of us in the outside think the answer is obvious.

Such was the case with one of the girls I counseled today, who I’ll call “Marissa.” She has such a store of wisdom within her, yet feels trapped in her current situation. She’s only known she’s been pregnant for a few days, and her immediate instinct was abortion. Recently unemployed, this normally independent woman was forced to turn to welfare. Caught up in the love for her two older children, she’s ready to deny her third. But once she stopped to think about it, once she learned the truth and, in her own words, “opened her mind” to the broader perspective, she recognized that this wasn’t a choice she could make instantly. It needed thought, and prayer. And then she admitted something I thought held so much wisdom: how late at night, even when lying next to her boyfriend, there was a thirst within her that she couldn’t fill. Now, trying to cope with an unplanned pregnancy, she sat in the chapel at the back of the clinic and began to fill that thirst. Somehow, this baby—itself a miracle, since she had thought she was infertile—was bringing its mother to trust and hope in God.

Despite this transformation, “Marissa” is still considering abortion, still struggling to look beyond her current situation. Please pray that this woman, strong and beautiful and wise, is able to hold on to true wisdom, and make the choice that is best for herself and her family.

Grief After Abortion

We had a somewhat unusual occurrence in one of the centers the other day—a young couple came in already determined to have their baby. Only 18, they were newly engaged and in the process of finding an apartment to live in. Despite living in a time of such transition, they found hope in the baby that was theirs. Actually, they were so excited for the baby that they had come in a little too early—the sonogram technician could barely find the tiny child. Their joy and excitement, however, was mixed. A year earlier, the girl’s family had pressured her into the abortion of her first child. Even as she welcomed her new child, she couldn’t stop the frequent tears that came with the recollection of her first one.

After seeing a grief so deep, it was difficult to go back to the sidewalk counseling and see so many women making the same mistake. Abortion seems like such an easy solution to these women, perhaps because their situations are so grave. I talked to one woman whose baby was the result of an affair. She felt that having an abortion was the only way to hold her family together. Yet I wonder how hiding both an affair and an abortion can possibly heal her family, especially after seeing the pain of the other young woman. This abortion will not only destroy her baby, but very possibly the family she thinks she is protecting. Please pray that she will recognize the truth and find a solution that protects both the baby’s life and her family. Hopefully, such prayer can mean more young couples eagerly getting sonograms, and fewer desperate women entering abortion clinics.

First Conversations

My first few days working in the EMC pregnancy centers have been interesting. Here I am, this white girl from Montana, still trying to figure out where everything is in the centers while offering a few words of wisdom to women who are sometimes twice my age. And we’re not talking about the weather, either, but instead having these starkly intimate conversations. Walking up to a stranger and asking her to spill her guts to me can be awkward, especially when she’s lost in a storm of fear or anger. But I’m slowly learning to find the kernel of strength and hope in such a woman, and help her to recognize its existence.

I wish you could meet all these women. Each one is so different, and each baby inside her womb has a different story. These stories have given me some of my most beautiful “firsts” this week. I saw my first ultrasound, and heard the heartbeat of a tiny 9 week old baby. And today, for the first time, I witnessed a turnaround, of a lovely girl who was so excited to tell her boyfriend he was going to be a father. She was so grateful for the individual care and attention paid to her. Instead of what she had expected, which was a “white slip of paper” and a cold doctor’s office, she received the kind of counseling that she really needed. Hearing her say this made me realize just how unique EMC is, and why the holistic work we do is so crucial. The conversations which at first seem so awkward become the key to saving these babies’ lives.