What can be done?

I have lived much of my adult life oblivious to what's going on in politics. In high school, I often expressed my beliefs about politics and had no problem defending my point of view. But during my college years, I learned that most intellectuals considered conservatism (my point of view) to be equal to ignorance, and therefore I quickly learned to keep my mouth shut.

This post isn't about conservatism or liberalism. It's not about democratic or republican. This post is about right and wrong. Today I read an article on someone's Facebook page that reported on our new president's recent overturn of the ban on the United States' financial support of international abortion. Apparently, this is a ban that is either enforced or overturned depending on which party wins the presidential election. Bush- enforced. Clinton - overturned. Little Bush - enforced. Obama - overturned.

Usually, I'd just read an article like this and shake my head, but then continue on with my day. Today is different. Today I received my W2 and I looked at the box that notes the amount of tax dollars that I've contributed to the running of our federal government. I realized that part of my money, the money that I earn by working at a life-endorsing institution (the church), is flown overseas to help women abort their babies. My money is used to forward a cause that I do not believe in and that my Christian beliefs (that God alone is the giver of life, that life is sacred and precious because it comes from Him, that each individual is born with God-given purpose and destiny) diametrically oppose.

I've done a small amount of research today and discovered that, worldwide, 46 million babies are aborted every year (that's one in five pregnancies that end in abortion). Of those, 36 million abortions take place in the developing world (2nd and 3rd world nations) and only 10 million take place in developed nations. This is startling: In Eastern Europe, 57% of pregnancies end in abortion. In East Asia, 1/3 of all pregnancies are terminated.

President Obama said, "In the coming weeks, my administration will initiate a fresh conversation on family planning, working to find areas of common ground to best meet the needs of women and families at home and around the world." His secretary of state, Hilary Clinton, who will oversee foreign aid, said, "Rather than limiting women's ability to receive reproductive health services, we should be supporting programs that help women and their partners make decisions to ensure their health and the health of their families."

Terms like "family planning" and "women's health" are intended to make a messy issue rather glossy and pretty. I've heard many stories from women who have chosen abortion. I've heard the hurt they've endured because of it, the guilt, the pain, the turmoil. What makes us think that the emotional effects of abortion are only suffered by women in Judeo-Christian nations? When abortion is offered as an out for those in other nations who find themselves with unwanted pregnancies, what happens to those women after the fact? When the term "women's health" is used, I'm inclined to believe that it refers only to her physical health and not to her emotional, spiritual, and mental health. Are the World Health Organization and United Nations jumping to offer post-abortion counseling? I highly doubt it.

What can be done? This is question that I've been struggling with all day. As a taxpayer, my money supports abortion, while my morals do not. I could stop paying taxes, but then I'd end up in jail, therefore thwarting any future impact I may be able to make for such a cause (and seriously cramping my style). The solution is much deeper than just throwing money at the issue. It's easy in America to write a check and feel like we've done our part. The worldwide anti-abortion movement is minimal. Plus, I'm not entirely sure that establishing a movement similar to the one in the United States would be that effective anyway, since, even though we have a huge anti-abortion population, it's still legal.

What if, world-wide, women knew how much God loved them and their unborn children? What if women in need were introduced to a God who concerned himself with the details of their lives and the lives of their babies? What if they found out that God has a purpose for them and their babies? What if they were offered another option in a desperate time when abortion seemed the only way out? What if there was a way to care for them and their children and ensure that they were fed, clothed, and housed?

All of this, while a very tall order, is nothing short of necessary.

Ideas?

Bread, Books, and the Brokenhearted

Today I was in Panera, having lunch and studying for the Women's Experience. I'll be teaching on forgiveness, and I wanted to take some time to go over the notes and prepare. So there I sat, computer, Bible, and notes spread out before me. To my right side was a book called Total Forgiveness by RT Kendall. I ordered it from Amazon last week to help me prepare for the teaching. I've read it before, maybe 5 years ago, and as I was reading it this time, it really ministered to me.

So I was sitting there, and suddenly a figure loomed over me and said, in a loud voice, "Wow you look comfy! What are you doing?" I looked up, half expecting it to be someone I know, the other half of me feeling as if I was in trouble for propping my feet up on the other side of the booth. I straightened up. A lady I did not know stood there, smiling at me with warm, questioning eyes.

I'm not the type to talk to others that I don't know in public. I'm usually on the defensive. But this woman seemed so interested in what I was doing.

"Are you writing a book?" she asked. I shook my head. "A paper?"

"Well, sort of," I responded. "I'm studying about forgiveness. I'm teaching on it next week at church, so I'm just preparing." I held up the book I was reading.

"I see that," she said. She asked me which church I attended, and I responded and invited her to our services.

"Do you live in this area?" I asked.

She looked to the side. "Long story. Let's just say I live all around here." She placed a paper on the table and instructed me to write directions to the church from 192 and she'd be by to pick it up later. I bent my head down to write, and she left the table but returned very quickly. She sat on the other side of the booth. I was taken off-guard.

"Can we pray?" she asked.

"Uh, sure." I didn't know if she wanted ME to pray, or what. I bowed my head.

"I'm not that good at it," she said. Then she began to pray. In a hesitant, unsure way, she asked God to send people in her life to encourage her, to help her, and to support her. I found myself opening my eyes every few seconds, checking to make sure that my iPhone and wallet were still there. Was this lady running a scam on me? Who comes up to someone randomly and asks them to pray, really?

"I moved down here a little over a year ago in my van. You'll see it when you go out to the parking lot. Can't miss it. I bought a year-long pass to Disney, and for the last year, that's where I've gone every day. I guess you could say I'm trying to find myself. Well, the pass ran out..."

I got it. She was homeless, jobless. Living in her van and passing her days in Disney, "the happiest place on earth," in hopes that she could attain happiness despite her inner bankruptcy.

"Ya know, if I could do what it says on that book," she motioned toward Total Forgiveness, "then I wouldn't be in this mess."

She then shared with me some details about her past, and I realized that this lady wasn't scamming me. She was looking for a friend. For hope.

I asked her if she knew Jesus. I assumed she did from the prayer we shared, but I wanted to check. She assured me that she did. I explained to her about God's love. About how, apart from knowing God's forgiveness, it wasn't in our power to forgive anyone, and how, in light of the way God looked at us in our most shameful, dirty moments and, knowing all of them, still chose to love us and let our offenses go, we had no choice but to forgive.

"Do you like to read?" I asked. She motioned her hand, so-so. "Why don't you take this book? I think it'll help you."

She smiled. "There's something different about you. I can see it in your eyes," she said. "I look into a lot of eyes. You eyes have a sparkle. Something special. You took the time to talk to me. You let me sit here."

I looked down, ashamed that, a few moments ago, I had silently questioned her motives during my open-eyed prayer. "A few years ago, I was in the same place you are. Unable to forgive. But God's worked in my life. And I'm a different person."

She thanked me. "I'm gonna try to come to your church. I'll talk to you later."

I don't want to analyze this conversation, because I feel that to do so would rob you of making your own conclusions about this exchange. But I will tell you that this conversation was the most organic, natural ministry moment I've ever had. And I'd like my life to be filled with more moments like these.