Tears and the job no pro-life taxi driver wants

The first tears I’m going to mention didn’t form in the eyes of a mother seeking an abortion, a bereft father, or anyone close to the child. They came from a worker going about her normal day who was unknowingly pulled into the tragedy of an innocent death. 

We sidewalk advocates have begun recognizing the scenario. A vehicle arrives at the abortion facility, but something about it is different. Sometimes, it’s a marked vehicle indicating a taxi service. Other times, there are no markings, but the reality becomes quickly apparent.

In this case, the passenger was in the backseat with no passenger up front; an alert that the two likely were not related. Despite our efforts, the woman being dropped off entered the building. So, I pivoted my attention to the driver, getting into position at the exit with my literature. My hope was that she might be pro-life and an unenthusiastic participant in her morning assignment. 

My hunch was right. As the driver neared the exit area, she began slowing down and unrolling her window. As she stopped near me, our eyes met, and though it wasn’t an all-out deluge, tears were beginning to form on her face. “I feel so badly,” she said with a look of defeat. “I’m so sorry,” I said, handing her some information to share our purpose and provide something to have on hand should she receive another such assignment. She gladly accepted the brochures and drove away.

The shock on the driver’s face, and heaviness in her voice, reminded me that abortion doesn’t just affect those closest to the pregnant mother, which makes the tragedy all the more devastating. It can even affect a stranger.

Thinking on how this moment came to be, the sadness of it all emerges even more. The pregnant woman had to summon a taxi to kill her baby, no father, parent, or friend near. On the drive there, the weight of it had already begun. This mother could not express her emotions nor share any possible last-minute hesitations. Instead, she had to move in silence.

What was it like when she gave the driver instructions to go to the Red River Women’s Clinic? What did the driver experience, realizing the route she was being asked to take? Or did she just receive an address and only confront the destination upon reaching the facility and seeing the signs held by the sidewalk advocates? 

How did these two women fill that silent air, strangers just inches apart but captive in different ways by the Culture of Death? 

And as a side note, it was apparent the driver was not native to America. What kind of culture are we demonstrating to foreigners? “You’re welcomed here, but not your children. However, we will show you where you can kill them.”

The forming tears on a stranger’s face that day call to mind a different type of weeping the week prior. It was the Wednesday following the Saturday LIFE Runners event described in last month’s column. Despite the difficulty of that morning, as we confronted the abortion workers with their loud car alarms and music, our prayers on the hard cement during the A-Cross America Relay Fargo launch seem to have been heard by heaven.

Two women that next Wednesday, four days later, arrived at the abortion facility with tears of despair flowing. Both took literature from the sidewalk advocates as they arrived. Both went into the facility. 

We are all given a choice every day: life or death (Deut. 30:19). And in this case, one woman remained inside for several hours, but the other left before the procedure could begin. As people prayed on the sidewalk, she wrestled with her decision while talking with a friend in her car. And God triumphed. Eventually, she got into her own car to leave her abortion plans behind.

On the way out, this mother stopped to thank our crew for being there, and God for her baby, before asking where she might get assistance to bring her child into a welcoming world. Unlike the woman who remained inside, this mama’s tears had changed into tears of joy. 
How we wish we would see more of these kinds! Tears of despair are plentiful on the sidewalk. But those beautiful tears of joy? They reflect God’s goodness spilling out into a celebration of eternal victory, a profusion of praise to the Lord of Life!