August 20, 2013 (AbbyJohnson.org) – I just stood there…and cried. I closed my eyes. I could feel their breath on my neck. They were yelling inches from my ear. “Whose choice? My choice.” I had forgotten what this darkness felt like. I opened my eyes and saw a familiar face. It was one of my former friends from Planned Parenthood.
I smiled and waved when I saw her. It was as if I had forgotten that we were no longer friends…not because of who I am, but because of what I now defend. She mouthed something profane at me…very slowly so I would be sure to catch what she said. Now I remembered. We were not on the same side. Our eight-year-long friendship was gone…no matter how much I had wished it wasn’t.
I was standing in the largest rotunda in Texas State Capitol. There were about five of us prolifers…thousands of people surrounded us…people who supported abortion…people I used to be.
There were many other prolifers there, but they were in the gallery, in legislative offices, and in lines to get into the gallery. I had to be in the middle. I had to feel that heaviness. Sometimes I forget what it feels like. I need to be reminded from time to time…it reminds me why I fight so hard and what we are truly up against.
I was at the Capitol every day. Most of the time there wasn’t much to do. But it was important just to be there…in our blue shirts…with our peaceful and prayerful attitude. The abortion supporters were profane. They were vulgar. They had succumbed to evil and they didn’t even know it. We had to be there. Because when we showed up, Christ showed up.
June 25 – I came to the Capitol with my five-day-old son. I had written “abortion is mean” on the side of his infant carrier. As I strolled him through the building, I was amazed at the comments from the abortion supporters. “He is so adorable,” they would say. One woman said, “What a precious gift.” Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was the sheer irony, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I started to respond. “Yes, he is beautiful. And just five days ago, it would have been legal to kill him by abortion. That’s what you are here to support.” I got no response from anyone. Just blank stares. I walked into the gallery during the Wendy Davis show. By that, I mean her failed filibuster. I listened to her read story after story, lie after lie. It was hard not to stand up and yell out the truth. But yet, I listened and was truly amazed. Here was this woman who clearly knew nothing about Planned Parenthood’s reality. She had bought every line they had thrown at her. It was pathetic to think that this hired performer, paid for by the abortion industry, was willing to sacrifice so much. No breaks, no going to the bathroom (hence her catheter), no food, no water, nothing. And for what? To ensure that women have easy access to kill their children. I could do nothing but pray for her. A vote was taken that night…but it was two minutes too late. The disrespectful crowd in the gallery had delayed the vote just long enough. So, we waited for Rick Perry to make a call.
June 26 – Perry did make the call. He announced that there would be a second special session. We weren’t surprised, as we really have the best dang governor in the country. We worked to rally even more troops for our side. We knew we were going to win. We knew we had the votes. But we had to win the argument, too. Talking points were being written and distributed to prolife groups. Facebook groups were created in order to keep everyone on the same page. People were excited. They knew we were, once again, walking into a spiritual battle. But this time, we had more troops…and we were armed with prayer.
July 1 – The 2nd special session began. Prolifers showed up in droves. There were hardly any abortion supporters at the Capitol that day…but we knew they were coming.
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Over the next few days, the bill made its way to the final vote…through the House Committee, through the Senate Committee, through the Senate floor, through the House floor. It was finished. The votes had been tallied. Texas had now passed some of the most restrictive prolife legislation in the country.
But it wasn’t without opposition. The abortion supporters had come. They had come with their vulgar signs. They had come with their profane language. They had come with their disrespectful attitude. And yes, they came with their used tampons and jars of feces. It was a spectacle. They handcuffed themselves to railings. They threw tampons in the air. They took their bras off and waived them around. They yelled. They screamed. They cursed at our children. They were full of anger and hate. But underneath it all, they were full of pain.
I have felt a lot of things since leaving the abortion industry. I have felt sadness, lots of guilt, remorse, and pain. But honestly, I have never felt embarrassment until those days at the Texas Capitol. And while I don’t think I would have thrown a used tampon on a legislator, I would have laughed when someone else did it. I would have thought it was brilliant.
And that’s the bottom line…their mind is no longer their own. Once evil breaks in, your thoughts, your words, and your behavior is not controlled by you. I look back at my time with Planned Parenthood and can’t even believe some of the things that came out of my mouth. It’s like I was a different person…and, in a way, I was.
That must be our prayer…that these misguided individuals would one day become new creations in Christ. That’s what I pray for my former friend who I saw at the Capitol. That’s what I pray for all clinic workers. It’s what I pray for women who have chosen abortion. It’s what I pray for those people who stood around me in the rotunda…those who were screaming in my ears and staring at me with such evil disdain.
I pray, because I know it works.
Those days at the Texas Capitol, I had never been more proud to be prolife. We showed up and we made a difference. We put up a fight…a holy fight…a fight for Christ and His Truth. We were united for one cause. We were compassionate. We were slow to anger. We were kind. We were merciful. We were prayerful. We were exactly what Christ intended us to be. And now we are being rewarded. Abortion clinics are already closing. Yes, we will win.
I recently saw an article that showed Wendy Davis on the front cover. The headline read, “Game On.” Hmm. With all of these clinic closures, I’m thinking it’s more like “Game Over.”
This article originally appeared on AbbyJohnson.org and is reprinted with permission.