Today marks the 100th Anniversary of Planned Parenthood. Time to re-post an experience from April 14, 2013 when I had when I protested at a local abortion clinic weekly in California. I may restart this activity again at Austin’s Planned Parenthood facility. Who’s interested?

Most Thursdays I head down to our local abortion mill, Family Planning Associates, and stand outside for about an hour hoping to engage women in conversations about my pro-life position as they enter. Only a handful go through the doors when I am there so there is a lot of down time. Those I do talk with are mostly there to purchase birth-control. Nevertheless, since the vast majority of these ladies are black or Hispanic, I try to get their attention by informing them that the founder of this clinic was a blatant racist and that he hated people of color. “Your dollars spent here go to the killing of your own race. Did you know that?”

Most did not know that and most don’t care.

The last time I went I tried something different: I carried a sign.

Over a year ago many evangelists and pro-life activists distributed the 180Movie DVD, the powerful 33 minute documentary that compared the Jewish Holocaust to our modern day scourge of abortion, to thousands of people around the country. Since that time a new vision has been birthed in the hearts of many, a vision that has set at it’s goal the complete elimination of abortion in this country, a movement that seeks to criminalize this act of murder.

So a sign was born. A sign designed to call a spade a spade; a sign that would shed light onto this grievous issue and call it what it is: murder.

In every abortion clinic in America, babies are murdered, hacked to pieces, human beings made in the image of God. They are killed at the rate of 1.21 million persons a year.

How did my sign work out? I stood along busy Long Beach Blvd. and waited for the angry outbursts of wrath and one finger salutes.

There were none.

In the first 10 minutes of my sign-holding one young woman professed Christ on the sidewalk.

I got four thumbs up from passing cars. 

And a police officer said, “I shouldn’t say this while on duty, but I appreciate what you are doing.”

As I reflected on my sign holding I knew what I did was right. I had to do something. As a Christian, I’m called to expose the darkness.

Inside this seemingly innocuous medical building horrible things take place, things that most people on the street have no idea about.

Is it “in your face”?

Yes.

Does it expose darkness?

Yes.

Is it loving?