A Sunday Morning 40 Days Vigil

7:50 a.m.

I get out the 40 Days for Life signs and set them up at the 40 Days site near Planned Parenthood.

Low 50s.

The moon is watching.

I say a few prayers to start.

For the babies.

For the women.

For the workers.

For the people driving by.

I read the prayers for the day from 40 Days.

I listen to the birds, and watch a couple of squirrels.

A rosary - 5 decades, then some more.

Cars continue to pass. I consciously try to smile, to look friendly.

A man in a van slows down, looks at me. Eye contact. He pulls into the Planned Parenthood parking lot. A staff member? A craftsman come to do a job? I say a prayer for him.

I begin to quietly sing my version of the John Lennon song. "All we are saying, is give life a chance."

My hand cramps a bit from holding the sign. My fingers are cold.

I think of Jesus. He was on the cross for three hours, in agony, for me. I can put up with a little cold and discomfort. I offer it up.

That man in the van gets me thinking. What about all the people who may not work for Planned Parenthood, but who help to support it through supplying materials like copy paper, toilet paper, or coffee, who tend the grounds, who repair the building and parking lot, who deliver supplies, and so on? What if they refused to service Planned Parenthood? Is that an indirect way to stop the abortions? I say a prayer for all those people.

"All we are saying, is give life a chance."

Traffic is increasing. Some people look dressed up, like they are going to church. More people walk by. I make a point of smiling and saying hello to them. A man on a bicycle passes me and give me a thumbs up.

I say a prayer for them. I pray that my standing there might get some people thinking. Maybe just seeing me will change even one heart?

I keep on smiling.

9:05. The moon is still there, but further down in the sky and fainter.

I put away the signs.

Thank you, Lord, this opportunity.

Heal our hearts and minds and nation.

Amen.