(insert imaginary photo here)
(If you don't know what Whoopi looks like, go to: http://imdb.com/gallery/granitz/6110/WhoopiGol_Theo_14047038_400.jpg.html?seq=3 )
The heart of man is wicked and deceiptful, who can know it. If I went with my gut, I would seldom --no, never-- serve God. If I did that which I now call serving, it would be because it somehow satisfies me. Today was all about that.
I felt whoosie. I did not feel like being at Planned Parenthood. I felt afraid and sickly. Glen let me hold a sign with him for a while, and then he told me to go do what I am called to do.
So I put the sign under the back wiper on the van, and went to the alley to read scripture and sing. As I read, a woman with a cane and dreadlocks came toward me. I greeted her and continued to read. She said something like amen, and then, when she was nearly past me, she said almost under her breath, "But I still believe in freedom of choice."
I turned around to face her and said that some choices are simply wrong. She came back to me. (She came back to me!) She had a cane with a brace attaching it to her arm, but she carried the cane now instead of leaning on it. She said that people make mistakes, and that although she was lucky enough to be adopted by a wonderful man; a wonderful family, not everyone is that lucky.
She would not listen to the fact that there are people who would love to care for mother and child. She responded that "He gave us free choice" when I said that the little one ought not have to die for the "mistakes" of others. (Drats, I missed the opportunity for the Gospel!)
This is a conversation that would have been missed had I listened to my lying heart. While I was there, I read this:
1 I said, "I will watch my ways
and keep my tongue from sin;
I will put a muzzle on my mouth
as long as the wicked are in my presence."
2 But when I was silent and still,
not even saying anything good,
my anguish increased.
3 My heart grew hot within me,
and as I meditated, the fire burned;
then I spoke with my tongue:
4 "Show me, O LORD, my life's end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting is my life.
5 You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Each man's life is but a breath.
6 Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro:
He bustles about, but only in vain;
he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it.
7 "But now, Lord, what do I look for?
My hope is in you.
8 Save me from all my transgressions;
do not make me the scorn of fools.
9 I was silent; I would not open my mouth,
for you are the one who has done this.
10 Remove your scourge from me;
I am overcome by the blow of your hand.
11 You rebuke and discipline men for their sin;
you consume their wealth like a moth—
each man is but a breath.
12 "Hear my prayer, O LORD,
listen to my cry for help;
be not deaf to my weeping.
For I dwell with you as an alien,
a stranger, as all my fathers were.
13 Look away from me, that I may rejoice again
before I depart and am no more."
Thank you, Father, for not dealing with me as I deserve. Thank you for calling me, and for making me stand firm on the Solid Rock of your salvation. AMEN!