5 weeks. Heartbeat. 6 weeks. Nose to smell with. 7 weeks. A mouth to smile. 8 weeks. Fingers to touch. 9 weeks. Ears to hear. 10 weeks. Dead.
Over the last few years, I have become increasingly concerned with the issue of abortion. I have seen the impact it has had upon this nation, leaving more than one-third of my generation dead in its wake. As you are sitting here reading this, 3,400 abortions have already taken place this very day.
Yet it is a hidden genocide, much accepted by the world. Even those who profess to be pro-life participate in actions that speak otherwise. With a newly elected pro-choice majority in government, it is clear where America stands. As one lyric from a song by the band Casting Crowns so succinctly puts it, we want to “save the trees, and kill the children.”
In the spring of 2007, I decided to take a semester off of school to participate in an internship with Bound4Life, a grassroots, pro-life movement that was started in Washington D.C. in 2004. Bound4Life conducts silent gatherings in front of courthouses and abortion clinics around the nation, not as protests, but as prayer meetings. As we stand before these buildings, we wear red tape on our mouths inscribed with the word “LIFE,” silencing our own voices while standing in the gap as a voice for those who have none.
The first time I stood in front of an abortion clinic, I did not know what I would encounter there. I ripped a piece of red tape off the roll, then took a Sharpie to carefully write in capital letters L-I-F-E. I pressed the duct tape to my mouth and took my place along the small line of people that stood silently on the sidewalk.
I closed my eyes and reflected on the direction my nation has taken. The nation that is founded on the words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.”
Somewhere along this 200-plus year journey, America forgot what life meant. The Supreme Court sanctioned this memory lapse in 1973, when it chose to hold that the unborn child is not a human being. It is this definition that is seeking to replace what is right, with what is socially acceptable. The witnessing of these unconstitutional decisions has gripped my spirit and provoked my consciousness to action.
Justice will not be denied. People may try and hide the facts and diplomatically create explanations, but truth is not relative, and is also, as Jefferson declared our rights were, unalienable. We often forget about abortion because it occurs behind closed doors. We do not think about the developing child because there is no glass cased window through which to look into the womb. Yet they are there just the same.
I have perfected the art of chewing gum behind my duct tape. Somehow this motion relaxes me, and for a brief moment I am relieved of the intensity of what I am doing. Yet this recognition of the gravity of the situation is necessary, for if I forget what I am standing here for than it is all for naught. There will be no forgetting today. My heart breaks when I think of the 50 million children who have lost their lives in this civil war of ideologies. I let the words of a prayer run through my head: “Jesus, I plead your blood over my sins, and the sins of my nation. God, end abortion, and send revival to America.”
What will happen if America does not wake up to this injustice? Indeed, I shudder to think. With these 50 million dead and counting, what will happen to this great land that so many brave men fought for? Who will be left to farm the land, run the businesses, teach in the schools, make the movies, or cut our hair? Who will be left to lead the nation or fight for it when it needs defending?
“It's more comfortable for people to think of abortion as a political decision, or a right. But I am not a right. I am a human being. I am the reality. Gently I put the question, if abortion is about women's rights, then where were mine? There was no radical feminist screaming for my rights on that day,” writes Gianna Jensen, an abortion survivor. Jensen’s mother was 7 ½ months pregnant with her when she had a saline abortion that failed. Complications arose that forced the doctors to deliver Jensen, who had survived the abortion, but was later diagnosed with cerebral palsy as a result of the saline injection.
The sun is shining down on our little group. I watch as a young, pregnant woman walks up to the doors of the clinic. I wonder what she is there for. Is it just a check-up? Or will another child’s life end today? The door is locked, because the clinic does not open for a few more minutes. While she waits, the woman comes over shyly to speak with us. Some of our group talks with her, and find out she doesn’t really want to support a clinic that offers abortions, but wasn’t aware of any other good places to get medical care for herself and her unborn child. The leader of our group informs her of a pregnancy counseling center available just down the road. She and her husband, who has stepped out of the car to see what’s going on, decide to make an appointment there immediately. We are grateful for this small victory.
Yet not everyone we meet is happy to see us there. Another pregnant woman who was also waiting outside the clinic phoned her husband, because she was worried we would cause trouble. When he arrived, we had an interesting conversation and a small-scale debate about our respective views. He told us his wife had already had two abortions, and though they were keeping this baby, they saw no problem with abortion as a matter of necessary convenience. This conversation both saddens and inspires me to continue with renewed vigor what I am doing.
I consider myself a modern-day abolitionist for the cause of the unborn. Though few have survived to use their own voices, those who have, like Jensen, remind us of the great responsibility we have as a nation. My endeavor is to make people aware of the cause of the unborn, and to inform the public about the physical and psychological dangers of abortion to women. It is also a call to re-consider the definition of human life, and reflect on what justice truly means in America.
I open my eyes and look up at the blue sky. Standing before these clinics in silent prayer, I fervently hope for the day when abortion will end and life can once again flourish freely in this nation.
5 weeks. Heartbeat.
