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Thursday, January 29, 2009

Who can know the mind of God?

One time, my friend, Ginger commented about the possibility of seeing someone on Thursday (killing day) at Planned Parenthood that you had seen on Monday (planning-to-kill day), thereby knowing that what you had said to them on Monday was futile.

This was brought home to us this week.

I was encouraged this week when Ginger and her husband were able to join me at Planned Parenthood on Monday. We attempted to talk to an asian couple as they came out of the building. (It is unusual for couples to come and go together on Mondays.) They would not come and talk, but looked at us curiously. They got into their SUV, and as they prepared to leave, I reminded Ginger that God can cause them to stop and take a flyer and exchange words, even when we cannot. So, as they were driving past her, she held out a flyer, and they stopped, rolled down their window, and took it. A few words were exchanged, and Ginger, as always, offered help. Today, they showed up. Seriously, they showed up late enough in the day so that I would have seen them even if I were only there for my 10-11:00 break like I usually am (I, through an act of God was able to be there for a longer time today). Ginger asked them if they had read the information we gave them on Monday. The man said that he has two children at home, and just can't... Then we pleaded and tried to reason with them, all to no avail.

This is heart wrenching. Pray for them. Pray that this will break their hearts and humble them before the cross. They have our numbers.

There was a young woman who was escorting. She is not, I infer, someone who has done this often, or for a long time. She affected Glen, because she strikingly reminded him of our daughter. She affected Ginger, somehow tying her tongue.

Some of those involved with Planned Parenthood have their shells so hardened, and their walls so high, that you think a great event is needed to get through to them. I think that about the guard, who has been there consistently, except for when he had an injury, for about two years.

This young woman, I hope and pray, will see the truth, and reject the lies.

Allison, an IU student, and a blessing in our church was present today. Bless Allison's heart. When this young woman left, Allison called out to her, wanting to talk to her. Young college women, like Allison, Dani, Hannah, Kaitlyn, and others, who will reach out to these women are a blessing. My heart was warmed by the effort.

My heart is warmed by the flames of God's servants, Mick, Ben, Dave, Glen, Clint, Aaron & Crystal, Jim, Carole, Veronica, Vanessa, Ben & Kyla, Josh, Varuni, Bob, Andrew, Matt, Lucas, Joseph, and others who are willing to set themselves on fire for the Glory of God!

God, make our feet firm and beautiful. Let not the hand of the wicked drive us away. Make our words Your Words. In Jesus name, and for Your Glory, Amen!

Saturday, January 24, 2009

What are we doing there?

I used to post a lot about what I witnessed and did at Planned Parenthood. I worried about posting such things, because I felt like I was puffing myself up. Mostly, though, I recognized the work that God did in my presence.

One Monday, I met a woman at Planned Parenthood who just found out she was pregnant. I have since had lunch with her, and she is planning to give her baby up for adoption.

I never posted about her.

I know that no one reads this blog, so I know that it's not like publishing someone else's story. It's just that suddenly, it was so personal. Suddenly, here was this woman, who ate lunch with me. I met her son.

So, I'm not sure about posting. I have had a few people stop by who have been encouraged. Mostly these have been posts where I have been undone and helpless and hopeless, realizing that my only hope is in the Lord.

So, maybe I should post. I will ask God.

I recently read a reaction on facebook about what happened this week at Planned Parenthood from a guy who used to go to our church, but has since moved away. The first year I was there, I went to the Pastor's house for a women's get together, but I was bouquou early. They were just cleaning up after supper, and this guy was at there house. He was discussing the effectiveness of "protesting" at Planned Parenthood and men's place in it. That was probably five years ago. His reaction to Thursday events was that it was encouraging, and that he was just discussing with a friend the effectiveness of "protesting" at Planned Parenthood.

Maybe people do need to hear the play-by-play.

What Happened at Planned Parenthood?

Last Thursday seemed so different than usual, but it was really all the same...

When I got there before work, Glen and I wondered at how many people were there. It looked like Ginger was rallying the troops. She was standing at the end of a long line of young people who had colorful, flourescent signs. She seemed to be encourageing them, but when I approached her on the sidewalk, instead of being pleased that there were so many extra workers, she seemed discouraged. That was when I looked at their signs, and noticed that one said "Pro-Choice..."

There are times, when things happen at Planned Parenthood that you begin to realize are darts sent by the enemy to get us all in a tizzy.

A couple of years ago, for a period of a couple of weeks, they started bugging us about where we could stand. The realtor who owns the property would come out and talk to us about where we were allowed and not allowed to stand, and about complaints about noice. This would create a buzz among us, like when you close the opening of an ant hill, and the ants start moving around faster, and going in circles, and for a period of time, they seem to be in a state of panic. Once we focused on what we were there about, the buzzing stopped, and we were back to doing what we do. The good thing was, that they resurfaced the parking lot and repainted the lines. Now, we know when we are crossing the line, and that's cool.

Once a guy got vulgar and attempted to pick a fight with my husband, and tried to offend as many people as could hear. It became obvious that this was one of those darts.

There is the smiling escort, who seems to cause one of us want to discuss Einstein's view of God. There was the woman who pulled into the alley, and wanted to argue about the war in Iraq. There was the time when I found myself insulting the guard for not doing his job.

What are we doing there?

Of course, as a servant of Christ, we want to be ready in any situation to switch gears and go with what God brings us. But while some of us were standing behind this wall of Pro-choicers, women and men were walking in the doors, not hearing what God sent them there to hear.

We prayed, and I went to work. Glen, who usually runs errands from then until he takes me to PP on my break, went back. We saw Thursday that prayer is effective, and that God can direct our hearts, and focus us for the work He has for us. Amen! Glen said that everyone was down to business, and that they were being good witnesses. The Jerico March (A Catholic march around the block 7 times) was on its sixth lap and there were a lot of them.

When I got there, Ginger told me that 1. a catholic woman had left the march and told her (first time to verbalize this to anyone) about her abortion; 2. a woman had come out and talked extensively to her, was crying, and she turned and went away from PP with her husband and baby. She has two children at home.

The march was done and a kazillion people were gathered in the parking lot across the street. Glen said that the pro-choicers were well coached to not engage us in conversation. Glen has a heart for these people, so he tried to give them my flyer. Mostly he did what he usually did, stood there with his sign to let people passing by know what was going on there.

While I was there, Ginger and I tried to talk to a woman whose friend was there for an abortion. Even though she wouldn't come near, she heard what we said, but an escort (there were more escorts than usual, and they seemed more intense) came and stood between us and her. So, we talked to her and through her. (We never know how God might use our words when we can see no effect. We know, though, that God's word will not return to Him void.)

While I was at one corner of the parking lot talking to the cracked car window of a man who was smoking, Ginger was talking to a young international who had come to PP alone, on foot. They talked for quite a while and then Ginger came and asked me if I had CPC's number. I have it on my cell phone. We gave her our numbers, the church number, CPC's number, and she walked away. She had already given them a check, but the last time Ginger sent someone back in to get their money back, they came back out looking as though they had just gone through Guantanamo. She told her to put a stop payment on it, and if she couldn't, we would give her the money back. We told her to call us any time, and we could help her. Her boyfriend did not want her to abort. So there is a father in the picture. She said that she would need much help. She didn't know what she was doing. We hugged her and she went away.

After a prayer of thanks giving with others on the sidewalk, I noticed that the guy in the car was talking to Ginger's husband. He was there with a friend and his friend's wife. There was some sort of medical situation, and their doctor had recommended an abortion. This guy went in to talk to his friend. I haven't heard anything more about that.

I can't tell you how many children died yesterday. God knows.

Monday, January 12, 2009


I posted another past post below (Sow the Seed) in response to a call for parables by CenturiOn.

Sow the Seed Abundantly

While reading the following story (originally posted in November of 2005), consider where you are scattering the seed of the gospel...or is it still in the bag?

There was a land-owner who owned the land as far as the eye can see, no matter where you went. He gave his servant a large, abundantly full sack of seed, and told him to go out and sow it. The servant took the large, abundantly full sack of seed and went out--into the back yard. Although the master owned the land as far as the eye can see, the servant had come to think of the back yard as his own.

He set the large, abundantly full sack of seed down and dug up a plot of ground. He made it square, about 10 by 10; just right.
He dug up the soil and removed the sod. He tilled and added mulch and manure until the organic content was just right. He worked the soil until it was a pleasure to turn. Then he smoothed it all out; just right.

Finally, he made rows, straight and even. Each row was the perfect distance from the last one, so he would have room to go between and pull weeds as the plants grew. He stepped back and surveyed his work with satisfaction.

At last he turned around and opened the large, abundantly full sack of seed. He reached in with his left hand and pulled out a handfull of seed and went to the first row. He planted 2-3 seeds per inch all along the row, covering the seed with the rich soil and tamping it down as he went. When he finished with the first row, he went on to the next and planted in the same way. He worked diligently in this manner, row after row, returning to the large, abundantly full sack of seed when his hand became empty.

When all the rows were properly sown, he closed the large, still abundantly full sack of seed, and stepped back.
He surveyed his work with great satisfaction.
He noticed that the sky was clear so he watered the plot.

As the days and weeks went by he watered the plot, aerated the soil, weeded the rows, and surveyed his work with great satisfaction. He put up a scarecrow to keep the birds away from the seed. He built a fence around to keep rabbits from eating the young plants. He even cut down a nearby tree because he noticed that it shaded his plot from the sun in the early afternoon.

As the weeks went by some of the seed rotted because of mildew or fungus in the soil. Some were left exposed by the rain or watering hose and were eaten by birds who were not fooled by the scarecrow. Some grew, but maybe their roots found the rocks that the servant had missed, or they were crowded by a weed that sprang up as quickly as they did; and they remained small and weak, and were scorched by the sun in the early afternoons. Some of the seed grew, strong and straight. These plants produced much fruit --40, 60, 100 times the little that was sown.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Can we talk?

Sometime we should sit down and have a big talk. We should look long into each other's eyes and talk deeply about big things. I think sometimes that we talk in greys and light greys and dark greys.

When we talk deeply about big things, we will talk in hyacinth blues and impatien pinks and spring-moss greens; oh, and russets and maizes and lavenders, ...and that really cool dark grey that is almost a blue like a rock in a stream, too.

When one of us says something that the other one doesn't understand, she will say, "I don't quite understand, will you tell me deeper, still?" Then the first will take her heart and put it in the other's hands and then she will understand. Then we can cry and laugh together because we know that we love each other so completely that we just lay ourselves down for each other.

Maybe someday...this year.

(Originally posted December 31, 2006)