Yesterday Jerry and I were walking through downtown Los Angeles trying to find the Museum of Contemporary Art when a young woman holding a clipboard, all by herself on a street corner, asked if I support Planned Parenthood. I said an emphatic NO.
She seemed genuinely surprised.
"They aborted a friend of mine but thank God she survived!"
Jerry and I walked on, found we were going the wrong direction and had to walk back past her--a God-thing, I am convinced! The young woman and I talked again. (I started out by apologizing for being so abrupt with her.) I explained how Planned Parenthood had talked Gianna's mother into aborting her at seven months, how appalled she was when she realized what she had done, how women who see abortion as a quick fix at the time later suffer long-term regret and guilt.
"Seven months--" she said. "I don't think--"
"It's legal until birth. I talked to the doctor who aborted her afterward--he injected the mother with something to kill the baby and usually the baby struggles for a couple of hours and then the woman delivers a dead baby. But Gianna was born alive. The doctor just shrugged and told me, 'I guess I didn't give her a big enough dose of saline.'"
The young woman said, "I'm against abortion, too, but it's a woman's choice." She seemed bewildered by my passion. I was trembling and close to tears.
I shared about a baby being a separate person, having brain waves and heartbeat before the woman knows she's pregnant. "It's a baby!"
"I know that."
"Then why do you support an organization which kills them?"
"It's a job."
I asked her to reconsider her job. Ended up writing down the name of my book for her (Gianna: Aborted and Lived to Tell About It) which she said she would find and read, and giving her a hug. We didn't get her name but God knows. Please pray for the young woman He had us go out of our way to reach on a street corner in Los Angeles on July 15.