On the hard days –the days I want to walk away from all this faith stuff– I put one foot in front of the other and walk.
I drive past the shotgun houses – every other one is boarded up – and a man drinking a 40 at 9 a.m. I pray aloud, “May salvation come today in the name of the Lord.” I repeat the mantra over and over, asking it to be so, as I make my way to the biggest abortion clinic in the city – my city – the city with a violent crime rate four times the national average.
Death is there, behind those cinder block walls. The killing of babies and the attempted murder of mothers’ consciences… the former happens, day in and day out, but the latter is never completely successful.
I raise my hand toward the building full of women who need His love in the worst way. I pray they would get it.
I park my car across the street and breathe a desperate prayer. “Lord, inspire those women in that death factory to choose life – physical life for their unborn babies, and spiritual life for themselves.”
I get out of my car and walk into a different building – one that houses an organization that applauds life. I get in the elevator, push the number 5, and mumble to the Lord, “Be here today.”
I feel like I have nothing to give most Tuesdays. But that’s not true. I have precisely what my clients need most –Jesus. My heart may be in a thousand pieces, and my life may be in a thousand more, but I have Jesus, and He makes all the difference.
The elevator dings, doors slide open, and I make my way to the pregnancy medical clinic where I volunteer each week. The warm decor and even warmer people leave the false impression that this is just another doctor’s office. No. This is a battlefield.
God and Satan are in full-out war over the souls of every potential mother that walks through our doors.
Truth be told, it’s not just our clients that find themselves in the middle of a tug of war that promises to rip their arms clean off. The staff is under attack as well.
They told me it’d be like this when I went through orientation a year ago. The stakes are too high for Satan to let a pro-life organization save lives unchallenged. Maybe that’s why every Monday my life seems to fall apart? Because Satan knows what I intend to do on Tuesday?
I clip on my magnetic name tag, “Kelly, Client Advocate”. I walk to the room in which fearful, hopeless women will soon come, one by one, telling me their stories of how they wound up with an unplanned pregnancy.
I ask Him once more, “Lord, be here. Show me what to say, when to say it, and how to say it so each woman who comes through this door leaves with the hope that You love them and will be their ever present help in times of trouble.”
And week after week, when I give all I can give – when I give Jesus – the Lord blesses.
Clients respond to Him, yes. Their openness to hearing the Gospel can only be attributed to the Holy Spirit.
But His blessing doesn’t end there… He blesses me too.
That He would use the likes of me to spread His message of love and redemption? It’s too good.
That He would allow me to be present in moments when clients choose to receive His work on the cross? It’s too good.
That He would give me a front row seat to witness the Kingdom overcoming the darkness – in clients’ lives, in my life? It’s too good!
Find a place to give Jesus. Wherever you are, give Jesus, yes, but also be intentional about going to where He’s unknown and give Jesus there, too. I’m telling you, He will bless you in the process.