Tim Sweetman, Guest RTF writer
Regenerate Our Culture

I stood on the Supreme Court steps in downtown Louisville at 12:02 PM shivering in the cold. All around me were people gathered around a huge statue at the foot of the steps. They were all listening to a speaker who stood at a black podium in between the huge columns at the top of the steps. These were people from all backgrounds – little children, businessmen, mothers, fathers, politicians, doctors, teenagers, and college students.

We were all gathered because abortion was legalized 36 years ago.

As I looked around at the faces, I realized that most of us were survivors of a genocide. A genocide that has taken almost 45 million lives away from our nation. A genocide that was taking a life every 20 seconds. A genocide that could have taken me.

But I was not aborted.

A few kids were holding signs that said “Stop Abortion Now” and “Abortion Kills.” I wasn’t holding anything, but I wish I was – I wish I could hold a sign up, wave a flag, yell, scream, or do anything to stop what was going on at that very minute.

The speakers continued to talk amidst honking horns, snide remarks from people passing by, and the roar of airplanes landing at the nearby airport. They spoke of survival, the need to stop abortion, and the reason for this rally. Then a woman came to speak.

This woman had three abortions, and now was standing in front of about 200 people who were fighting against the very thing she had done. I didn’t really know what to think when she told the crowd who she was and what she had done. But as she continued, I realized the power of her message – it was a message of forgiveness, a message of hope, and a message that could only be delivered by someone who understood the gospel.

There were many in attendance who were simply there because they knew that life was precious, and perhaps they even believed it to be a gift of God. Yet many did not think of what exactly to do with someone who had taken that life that was so precious. When this woman’s daughter was old enough she had told her what she had done. The innocent little girl looked up at her mom with a sad face, and said “I guess that makes you a murderer, Mommy.”

But this woman spoke of the One who had died for her – Jesus Christ had died for the sinner. The gospel was for her and the millions of other women who have sat in the waiting rooms and finally taken the life of their own child.

It was all worth it to stand in the cold at 12:02 in Louisville. No longer was this woman a murderer. Her daughter could now say “I guess that makes you forgiven, Mommy.”

That can be our story when we accept the gospel – no longer are we murderers. We are forgiven. So as we stand for life from conception to death, we must do it with forgiveness in our hearts, putting aside any hatred within us. We must forgive as Christ forgave us.