life and joy

by Alanna

My mom and I went to visit a happy mom with her new little son this weekend. He is one month old today, and so beautiful. Half Congolese and totally African, with dark curly hair and gorgeous eyes.  I just held him in awe, wrapped up in warm soft blankets. His momma is happy. His life seems somehow more precious to me, sacred, because of the way he was snatched from death. Months ago, his mom was at Planned Parenthood for an abortion, and a Christian there talked to her and offered her help. She changed her mind, left, and decided to love and carry her son. His birth was a hard one, not easy. His mom is so young and there is no dad in the picture. But her joy is so evident.  Her happiness and her love for her son couldn’t be contained.

This precious little boy makes me think of the others. The survivors, and the ones who didn’t make it. The ones for whom the womb was not a safe place, but a place where they lost their lives. I wonder sometimes who weeps for them, who prays for them. How often do we believe that abortion is entrenched, here to stay forever.  And like poverty or evil it seems hopeless because it will never be overcome. Hopeless might be a word you can apply to the worldwide eradication of abortion, because sin will be here with us until Jesus comes back. But the little ones scheduled to be killed tomorrow, here in our midst? There is hope for them. There is always hope. Hope that some Christian will be there to speak on their behalf. Hope that their mother will hear, turn, repent. Hope that another little baby will be born, months from now. Hope for a baby’s life and a mother’s joy.

I don’t know what things God has called us all to, or those He has called us to love. We have families and friends and ministries and we do our best to seek God’s will for us. But I for one want to hope for the babies. I think they are forgotten sometimes because they are hidden away, because we can’t see their faces and we don’t know them and it is an overwhelming tide. Holding this little baby in my arms forced me to remember. To rejoice in his life, to hope for others. I want to pray and to hope and to be a voice for them when I have the chance. Because while the tide of abortion might not be stopped, someone made a difference here. To the baby, his very life. To the mother, her unbounded joy.