As I arrived at AMAC (the Auckland Medical Aid Centre – an abortion facility) this afternoon to pray for an end to abortion, for all those involved and most especially for the mothers and babies, I was greeted by a beautiful sight.
A young mother was standing just outside the doors of AMAC, holding her little girl – she must have been about 7 months – and they were delighting in the small world flags flapping in the wind. These flags are adorning all the buildings down Dominion Road for the Cricket World Cup.
How wonderful it was to see the joy on both of their faces!
But then my heart sunk. Just above their heads was the theatre where pre-born children are ripped from their mother’s wombs. I could see the theatre walls and the instrument trolleys. The sheer number of mothers and babies who would never experience this moment of joy weighed heavily on my heart.
And I wondered why on a sunny Sunday afternoon it was so difficult to get more than one person to turn up and beg God’s mercy for this horrendous act against human life. (Thankfully a little later, someone else arrived to pray with me).
What would the outcry be if the children being sacrificed in the name of choice and convenience were already born? Would the Christian Church speak out with force? Would we see the social justice committees rallying up parishioners to stand outside the facilities where the atrocious act was happening: to beg God’s mercy, to provide help and support for the families who felt they had no other choice, to offer alternatives?
Or would there be silence?
Abortion is the biggest injustice of our times. Pre-born children are poisoned. Others are violently sucked through a canulla (tube). Their tiny bodies are pieced back together to ensure that nothing is left behind. Some are too big, and so after some suction, they are torn apart with forceps and removed limb by limb as the abortionist blindly pokes around. Still others will have their hearts injected with a poison so that they are born dead (chillingly this practice is called feticide).
Abortion is brutal. It is inhumane. It is catastrophic for families and for society.
I urge you to view these images of aborted children. This is the reality. The photos are violent. The images will make you feel ill. You will never be the same again.
My heart breaks for the children. It breaks for the mothers who feel they have no other choice. It breaks for those who are forced to abort their children against their will.
Mothers who walk into abortion facilities will never be the same again when they walk out.
Studies show that women have a greater incidence of mental health problems after abortion. They have an increased risk for self-destructive behaviour and suicide.
Women can be physically harmed during the abortion procedure. Overseas, deaths have been reported. In New Zealand it is impossible to know through documents if women have died because of the secrecy around the abortion procedure. What we do know is that a significant number of mothers hemorrhage either during or after their abortion. Hemorrhage can be a relatively minor complication – it can also be catastrophic. We also know that in 2012 and 2013 a total of 18 women had their womb perforated during the procedure, potentially rendering them infertile and at risk for serious complications in later pregnancies.
There must be a better way.
We can (and must) work in the political arena; educate whomever we can about the reality of life before birth and the brutal act of abortion, utilizing all the amazing tools available to us; serve mothers and families who are abortion-vulnerable; promote adoption as a very important option; and educate ourselves on the issues at hand.
We must also pray. We must beg God for mercy. We can pray in our Churches. We can pray in our homes. But one of the most incredible places to pray is outside an abortion facility. The place where abortion happens. Calvary. There we confront evil head on. There we witness the deception that envelopes all those involved in abortion – the facility workers, the mothers and fathers and finally those who pass by. There we have the opportunity to be Christ’s hand and feet, to witness to life, to allow him to use us as He wills, despite our fears and inadequacies.
Finally when we pray outside these facilities, especially on abortion days, we offer the pre-born children possibly the only love they will ever know on this earth.
So why do I stand and pray?
How can I not? It is what love requires.