Why I Choose to Participate in 40 Days for Life

On September 23, 2018, my hometown held a 40 Days for Life Kickoff. While I wasn't able to make it to the big event, I did sign up to pray at the local Planned Parenthood during these 40 days of prayer and fasting for the end of abortion.

I know there are many people out there who would question my actions and who would criticize me for "taking away a woman's rights," but when asked about a child in the womb, the answer is clear: That is a life, just as valuable as my own.

I never thought I could be the type to pray in public at all. But all it took was one person inviting me to the prayer vigil last year. I have to admit I was nervous that first day. We arrived on a cool, sunny day at the Planned Parenthood and she showed me a line in the asphalt parking lot.

We can't cross that line, she said.

As I stared at the brick building with the all too familiar logo, I nodded my head. In hindsight, I realize that what she said wasn't true just for the two of us. It's also true for the unborn babies who are never allowed to cross the line of the womb into the world. They don't get to protest. For them, there is no invitation to come out into the sun and make decisions on their own. Those first few days of prayer were as I expected: a few honked horns, screams to "mind our own business" and some middle fingers. They were disturbing, sure, but the most memorable encounter had nothing to do with rudeness or nasty shouts.

As I stood praying the rosary with another one of the vigil participants, I noticed a young male, probably in high school, sitting in his car. He emerged from the vehicle and asked us, "Hey...can I ask you some questions?"

I braced myself for what was to come, but the woman with me nodded her head, "Of course. That's why we're here."

"What are you guys even doing out here?" He was respectful.

"We're here to pray for the end of abortion," my prayer partner said, "We want these babies to have a chance to live, and we want to provide hope for the women who feel like they have no other choice than an abortion."

"So you don't hate people who are coming here?"

"No. No. We don't have anyone. We love everyone, and we want them to know there's hope. You see that clinic up there? They help women who are in unexpected pregnancies."

She pointed up the hill from Planned Parenthood to Hope Medical, a pregnancy clinic that serves as the life-affirming alternative.

"Oh really? Wow...I was just wondering because some people came to my school, and they were awful. So I thought you were like them and you were going to say you hate us, too."

"No. We're not here to do that at all. We're here because we want to show everyone that they are loved."

The boy then stuck his hand out; we shook it. He said, "Thank you. This is how we can change the world...by talking to each other."

He got into his car and then drove away. I don't know why he was there in the first place. I don't know where he went after our conversation. I never asked, and he never told us. But hearing his story gave me hope. He showed me that this issue isn't about politics. It's about people and their God-given human dignity. Our conversation was a moment of life in front of a place that has been a place of death.

Call me starry-eyed and naive, but whenever given the option of life or death, I will choose life, whether it's having a real conversation with someone or protecting the unborn, respecting the dignity of life is a no brainer to me. Want to hear it from someone wiser?

When it comes down to it, my number one reason for choosing life is this: She chose life.

This is my mom. She was 39 years old when she had me. I'm the youngest of six. There were possibilities of complications. I would be another mouth to feed. She didn't have to have me. But she did. I'm sure it wasn't always easy, but fueled by faith and love, my parents gave me the best life they could. I like to think I turned out okay.