Out of the Mouth of Babes

This morning, 18 women went to have their babies killed.  I met them there.  I offered them information.  I shared the truth about life.  I warned of the wickedness and effects of the choice that they were making.  I declared the justice and mercy of God, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Just five days before, my wife and I lost our firstborn son, William Livingstone Samuel, at 21 weeks prenatal.  With that wound so new and tears running down my cheeks, I pleaded for the lives of those in danger today. 

There were, praise the Lord, women who were outwardly suffering and responsive to my message of mercy and hope.  But how sad it is when I am also ignored, mocked, falsely accused, and bitterly treated.  I am confident that the words of the Lord that were heard (even by those closed to its entrance) will not return void.  And it is no shame to be maligned for the sake of my Lord Jesus Christ and those babies He forms in the womb.  I must open my mouth for the dumb in the case of all such as appointed to destruction.

The Lord aided my voice as I preached and pleaded in the cause of Human Life and Life Everlasting for two hours.  He gave me words, when my own would falter, to share with people one on one.  He allowed me the privilege of passing out tracts and waving at passersbys.  

Many things happened, many conversations, etc.  But I want to share one thing in particular.

At one point, while I was preaching to those in the entry way of the abortion mill,  I suddenly heard clapping and cheering behind me.  Although there were those on the inside reacting and scorning, someone was supporting me.  There were those, behind me and across the street, applauding and saying "That's right!"  "Good job!"  I was greatly encouraged and spurred on in making known the Gospel and the truth about abortion. 

Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw who it was.  Elementary children—maybe 1st through 4th graders—waiting for the school bus to pick them up.  These young students were clapping their hands, waving, and cheering me on.  They were boldly standing for LIFE. I thought of my dear precious son, so new to heaven, and wept all the more, with appreciation of little ones.  

It must have been something for those grownups gathered in the entry of the murder mill to see as well.  They quieted and were silenced.  Thank you, Lord, for the little children.

Psalm 8:2—"Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger."