Sunday, September 20, 2015

What happened when I watched the Planned Parenthood videos

I had read about them, saw the wide reactions and decries for defunding, but I didn't watch them. I just didn't want to. I didn't think I could stomach it.

I was right.

Finally, I followed a Facebook link and watched the latest Planned Parenthood video (as of now, there are up to ten), and it did make me sick. I watched as negotiations were made about how in tact a specimen could be, that nurses can accommodate the procedure to get certain parts at different stages of development. I had to cover part of my phone screen because I couldn't look at the mutilated body parts anymore.

I wept.

I felt ill, and the thing is, I couldn't go back to just praying for abortion victims or hoping that somehow this startling evidence could change the tide and lead to overturn Roe v. Wade.

You see, my eyes were open to the fact that I have failed. The Church has failed. Our nation has failed. Every time a woman in crisis thinks that her best solution is to have a child ripped from her womb is a failure to give her real choices and meet her needs, and we have blindly looked the other way thinking that someone else will help her.

I can support Crisis Pregnancy Centers, and advocate for adoption education, but the fact is, God was stirring my heart that I needed to do something. It was time for me to get in to the lives of women in crisis and let things get personal.

I needed to get messy.

I felt it pressed hard on my heart that is was time to get in the messy mire of crisis and let Jesus use me to help make beauty from ashes.

What could I do though? I have limited time, and limited ability to help as I have a young one at home. I already have a few irons in the fire, and our family is stretched at times to keep up with the ministry of pastoral life,

I wasn't sure how to answer the stirring in my heart.

So when my friend Beth approached me after church to tell me about a ministry that was within walking distance of my home, I listened.

I looked up Lucille's Home on Facebook and read the story of how it came about. I read about what they want to do to meet women in crisis situations and be an answer to give them hope. Our family attended their open house to see His House and even meet some of the residents.

I found myself talking to one of the women staying at the house, and I listened to her story. I cried with her and prayed over her, gave her my cell phone number.

I entered the mess.

Just this last week, I met with Sharon, the director and founder of Lucille's Home, and as she sat in my living room, we shared stories, and I listened to how God opened one door after another to bring about this work. She told me that their greatest need was for these women to have friends- other women who could listen to their stories, share the love of Christ, and be a support while sharing truth from God's word. Sometimes they might need a ride. Sometimes they might need a shoulder to cry on.

I can do that!

I can open up my home for visits and play dates. I can be a friend. I can offer rides and prayer.

I'm a part of our church's MOPS ministry, and I can bring a friend there to get support and friendship from others in the body of Christ. After all, we are just moms who need God's grace too.

I don't write this because I've got a bunch of answers, or because I know how any of this will play out. But I do know that there are many like me who look at giant problems and think, "What could I do?!?" I know I did. Whether it's a refugee crisis, the slaying of the unborn, or any of the thousands of troubles that plague our fallen world. What could a stay-at-home mom do with no training or degrees or special resources?

This has been my personal challenge. I share it because maybe you're in the same place. Maybe you're not there yet. Maybe you want to be there, and needed to read this to get there. I don't know.

I do know that what Christians have been doing in the last decades falls short. We've turned away and let others take care of it. We got comfortable in our pews- or cushy cool-toned chairs- and stopped reaching out in to the world where things get really messy. I know I have. I don't want to anymore. Jesus didn't do things that way, and I don't think I could go wrong trying to follow his example.