Saturday, March 19, 2011
Blessed Is the Fruit of Your Womb
"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9
We were alone outside the abortuary on a chilly March evening. It was the first time that any of us had gone to pray at the abortion mill, to make our prayers of supplication for the lives who had not yet been given a voice. The clinic was closed and the busy urban neighborhood was just picking up the feel of nightlife as couples walked by arm in arm, rowdy groups walked into the bar next door, the tattoo shop across the street turned on the flickering neon light, and cars quickly entered and departed from the gas station.
My husband and I, along with our friend, Dave, drew our rosaries from our pockets and prayed the sorrowful mysteries in front of this place that knows far too many sorrows. Dave reminded us that wherever two or three are gathered in His name, there the Lord is also, and he then read some scripture. We shared some uplifting stories about converted abortionists and those who work tirelessly for the pro-life effort. The chill was entering more deeply into our bones and we were getting ready to leave when a man came and stood next to us in silence.
Dave broke the ice and greeted him. He said that he had just wanted to pray the rosary. I told him that we would be happy to pray the rosary with him and so we retrieved our beads from our pockets once again and we prayed another set of the sorrowful mysteries. Each time I spoke the words "Blessed is the fruit of your womb," something moved inside my heart, and I realized that here, in this place where more prayer is offered than in any other secular place, those words have a profound meaning. Blessed is the fruit of every womb, for all life is in His image. And in this place, that fruit is cast out and treated as if it were rotted, decayed, without worth. It isn't offered the dignity in which a blessing from God should be held. The fifth sorrowful mystery occurs again and again here as those precious babies are crucified and cast out from their mother's wombs.
"Prayer reaches out to where we cannot be." Dan Miller, coordinator, 40 Days for Life-Milwaukee
So our prayers went out for the mothers who, feeling their own agony in their desolate part of the garden of life, don't know or understand the value of the life they carry within them.
"Forgive them Father, for they don't know what they do." Luke 23:34
And our prayers went out for the workers whose eyes are blind and whose hearts are cold to the heinous crime they commit day in and day out as they scourge the innocents without restraint.
"There are six things the Lord hates, yes, seven are an abomination to him; haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood." Proverbs 6:16-19
And our prayers went out for the seeds of life that had been planted with no one to garden and tend them to fruition.
"I am the vine. You are the branches. He that remains in me will bear great fruit." John 15:5
And when we were through, and we turned to say good-bye to the man who had joined us, he thanked us for praying with him. He told us that he was in the neighborhood and just felt like coming here and praying, that it had been quite a few years since he had prayed at this clinic. And then he told us that the man he used to come here and pray with many years ago was Fr. Don Hying, the same priest whose words about his prayer experience at these doors of death inspired me to want to come here to pray.
Today, at this place where souls have been tragically lost far more often than they are saved, I felt the presence of God. Although I was now shivering from the cold, my heart was warm, for I knew that my prayers and the prayers of those who joined me would somehow bring the blessed fruit within the womb of a desperate young mother to life.
And as we walked back to Dave's van, we saw a young couple walking arm in arm, smiling and laughing with one another, and we couldn't help but notice that her womb was ripe with a growing life.
"Truly you have formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother¹s womb. I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made; wonderful are your works. My soul also you knew full well; nor was my frame unknown to you when I was made in secret, when I was fashioned in the depths of the earth"