The 40 Days for Life prayer vigil was held in over 135 cities across America. Here in Charleston, men, women and children from all walks of life, Christians and Jews, Protestants and Catholics gathered outside of the Charleston Women’s Health Center in West Ashley to pray, fast, and hold vigil around the clock from February 25 – April 5.
We who prayed lifted up the tragedy of abortion to God asking for an end to abortion in our city. In memory of the event, I have put together this short vignette.
The first ray of sunlight streaked through the curtains and into her squinting eyes. Six in the morning on Saturday, she thought, I should have been coming home from a Friday night out. Recalling the days before it came, her life so different now, no friends called or stopped over. “I need to call Linda and Renee; I haven’t hung out in a while,” she mumbled to herself as she stepped onto the cold floor. Jeremy would be here in an hour, she needed to get ready.
The morning sun brought forth the first beads of sweat as we stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the Women’s Health Clinic. Christians of all denominations had gathered for forty days and nights of vigil and prayer across the narrow street. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, the national chairman and a politician and the expectation of local news coverage stirred the excitement. Greg and I had been several times throughout the vigil filling in for those who forgot to come or cancelled their scheduled time when something else came up. “We will be praying for you,” was the usual response before hanging up the phone as I dutifully headed back to the clinic to fill in. Now, there were hundreds of us; amazing how a television camera awakens the conscience!
Jeremy was late; I guess I need to call Cali to take me, she thought not wanting to miss her appointment.
We parked a block away and started the familiar walk. Worship songs permeated the air as Greg and I began to pray. The Holy Spirit spoke clearly that abortion and the issues surrounding it exploit rather than liberate women. The scene was surreal, almost carnival-like. Pro-choice advocates decked proudly in their “Planned Parenthood” t-shirts represented the “business and politics” of abortion, using women as pawns to peddle influence and garner votes. A man and woman, well-past their child rearing years, brushed past us carrying protest signs. The Spirit whispered, "They are reliving past days of fighting ‘the establishment’ and rejecting authority.” Today they are members of the abortion establishment, in the exploitation business. We “pro-lifers,” are also party to the exploitation, “cast blame on them so we feel better about our issues,” I said to myself.
Neither the demonstrators nor the politicians took the time that afternoon to find out the name of the young woman who had arrived unnoticed as we faced off on opposite sides of the yellow line demarking our positions. After all, this was about something bigger than a single person. This is about our country about what is right and wrong. This was about murdering children.
No one saw her leave that morning. Her boyfriend finally showed up. The argument he was having about his damaged rims made him late he said. He stayed on the phone while she went in and "got rid of her problem." She would be alright; just an office procedure and she could go home and rest. The narcotics and a little wine would soon make her forget what just happened.
My eyes filled with tears as I watched her walk slowly toward a waiting car her head hung in despair. The politicians spoke, the demonstrators shouted and we sang hymns. The television cameras didn’t notice Jeremy driving slowly from the parking lot with his passenger weeping quietly as she slipped into a lifetime of guilt and shame.
The battle cry of the 1970’s women’s movement, "You've come a long way baby," echoed in my ears as I watched them drive away. The women’s movement has regressed since the Roe vs. Wade decision. Under the curse of so called reproductive rights, women endure the exploitation of outsiders playing politics with their bodies while lives are slowly destroyed by the cancer of shame caused by the poor and often coerced choice to take a human life for convenience. The sound of the songs, speeches and protests faded as I cried out to God. “How long Lord will babies yet unborn be senselessly murdered at the hands of those who had taken an oath to protect life? How long will men selfishly impregnate women for sport and walk away leaving them to “take care of the problem?” How long will politicians, lobbyists and social activists exploit women to make money and build their power base? When will this selfishness end, Father!"
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