It was one of the worst experiences of my life. I stood there looking at a plain, boring storefront in a strip mall that is exactly like every other strip mall I’ve ever seen in the south. There was a beauty salon, an empty storefront, and a burger joint. Inside one storefront though, little limbs were being torn apart, little heads were being crushed, and souls that were harder than I could imagine were getting just a little bit more so.
My friend Bobby had invited me to come with him to a Planned Parenthood center where he did sidewalk counseling. Bobby is an evangelist who loves the Lord and the lost deeply so he goes to this center every week. He is also a member of the church where I was a pastor, and I wanted to support him. I did not, however, want to get into an abortion ministry. In so many ways, I still don’t. It is not that I think abortion is unimportant. It is very important. Over 300,000 babies are killed each year by Planned Parenthood alone, and the numbers have added up over the years to a mind-numbingly, staggeringly high amount of little lifes snuffed out. I don’t want to do it because I hate how it makes me feel.
“Sir, please don’t go in there. Would you come over here and talk with us first? We’ve got resources, and there are other options.”
I watched as a car pulled up, and a man and woman got out. I felt sick looking at them. My own kids were standing beside me, little eyes watching what was happening, little hands seeking my own for comfort. How could someone be in so much darkness that they would do that?
“Ma’am?” A young lady who was with us had taken the mega phone from Bobby. These Christians who come out here try and make sure that women speak to women, if possible. We have to stand across the parking lot from the entrance though, because we are not allowed to stand any closer. Hence the mega phone.
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