A hard day

Yesterday was a hard day.

Work has been stressful. I strive on success and I've somehow found myself in an industry where, "no one hates it," seems to be the highest possible praise. Even though I'm part of something meaningful, I know I'm as out of place as a bull in a china shop. If I ever hand in my resignation, my boss will probably celebrate for weeks. Mostly, though, I've had too much on my plate for a while and it doesn't seem like that will end any time soon.

My body has been stressful. My bad shoulder has been extra bad lately - probably because of my bad habit of laying in bed wasting time on my Kindle. What is rarely more than a general sense of pressure and tightness now includes a sharp pain in the joint. Add a little PMS and you have a good risk of general crabbiness.

The general state of the world has been stressful. Ebola and Enterovirus keep popping up on the morning, noon, evening and nighttime news. ISIS/ISIL keep beheading Your people. Political leaders keep doing stupid and immoral things and none of their would-be-replacements seems much better. Furthermore, plenty of otherwise sane seeming people keep rooting and voting for the status quo.

Still, yesterday could have been an easy day. I was very nearly caught up on my work, however unsatisfying it is, by noon and I took half the day off. The sun was shining and the trees were lovely. I decided to sign up for an hour at the 40 Days for Life vigil and then go home and enjoy a nap.

This isn't my first vigil, but because of my work schedule I'd never been there on abortion day before. Right now, I'd make almost any excuse to never be there on abortion day again. It may have been the most horrible hour of my life. I can never unsee the faces of women walking into that building, knowing that within 24 hours they would flush their sons and daughters down a toilet somewhere.

Abortion has never been faceless to me. I've known since my teens specific people who I know were, in one way or another, survivors of abortion. The girl with spina bifida. The girl whose mother was turned away from the clinic because she was too far along. The babies of my friends who had the courage to "ruin their lives" by giving birth in high school, despite pressure from boyfriends and relatives to just "get rid of the problem". When people talk about "the fetus" I know their really talking about Amy* and Leslie* and Brittany*.

Still, I've never been there in the moment it happened. Never had to watch women unload their toddler from the car so they could kill it's brother or sister. Never saw young women chatting on the phone as they walked into the abortuary as if it was the nail salon. I knew statistically, that the women who have abortions aren't all scared teens, but it still shocked me when a woman walked through those doors with two tweens in toe. She could have been my age.

I've never before felt like screaming, begging a stranger to change their mind. I felt almost complicit for not doing that very thing. I did all I was supposed to do. We walked up and down the sidewalk praying. I prayed for the place. I prayed for the employees. I prayed for the whole country. I prayed for each person who walked through those doors. I prayed for the souls that they were there to dispose of. And when I couldn't think of more words to send to God, I read scripture. And the words of Job condemned us. He curses, not just the day he was born, but the night he was conceived. Even all those thousands of years ago they knew that life doesn't begin at birth, but somehow we've forgotten. At the end of my hour, I left as quickly as I could.

When you stand out on a cold, wet windy day, you leave feeling cold to your bones. If you don't take a long hot shower, no amount of layers will warm you up for hours. Yesterday was sunny and warm, but I am still cold now. Not to the bones, but to the soul. It's like the first time watching The Silent Scream all over again. I have witnessed a tragedy and there is no judge on Earth to hear my testimony. I stood thirty feet away while lives were violated and I cannot wash away that knowledge. I am tainted by it.

Yesterday was a hard day.