PART II
Tired of standing, we found a nearby place to sit down. This is where Sam shared with me that sometime in the past year he and his girlfriend had had an abortion. My heart sank. It now made sense why he had been so defensive. At that point, I asked:
Becca: Please know you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but how is your girlfriend doing?
Although he attempted to hide it, I saw a deeply pained look take over his face and posture. More of their story poured out from his heart. So then I asked:
Becca: Sam, how are you doing?
He shared his story of pain, sadness, struggles with suicidal thoughts after the abortion, and much more. My heart sank again. The fact that he held the radical ideas and thoughts he had shared earlier in the conversation now made more sense to me. He may have been using these ideas as coping mechanisms as he tried to sort through the pain he was experiencing.
As I allowed him to tell more of his story, I also shared with him the stories of other men (some of whom I’ve met and others about whom I’ve read) who have lost a child to abortion. He was shocked to discover that other post-abortive men have struggled with some of the same things he had been experiencing. Tears never slid down his cheeks, but several times I was sure I saw them forming in the brims of his eyes.
Sam shared that on the day he and his girlfriend had walked into the clinic for the abortion, someone from among the pro-life crowd at the clinic threw something at the two of them. It was apparent to me that that action hurt Sam not physically, but emotionally. My heart sank yet again. The anger toward pro-life advocates that I sensed in him was now more understandable.
After over an hour had passed, he had to leave for class. As he stood up to depart, he asked if it would be alright if he gave me a hug. After the hug he pointed toward the Stop and Think Exhibit and said:
Sam: I talked with another lady at the display yesterday, too. We may not agree on everything about abortion, but the approach to what you guys are doing out here — I completely support this.
Sam then slid his sunglasses down over his eyes and walked away. I was humbled.
While reflecting on this conversation later that day, I noted that in the midst of being mocked, I had rediscovered the key to disarming hate, anger, and condescension. It’s love — not a mushy, sappy, or happy emotional feeling that many people call love, but an action that is self-sacrificial and often hurts. I’ve been taught this repeatedly throughout my life but continually seem to need reminders. My encounter with Sam was a real-life example of what love is and what it does. If I hadn’t listened to the promptings to love him, Sam would have likely continued to exhibit the hardness of heart that I had witnessed from him earlier in the conversation. Choosing to love him, even when it wasn’t enjoyable, opened a door for him to be vulnerable in a way that was unexpected — likely unexpected for both me and for Sam. Because this reminder occurred through a real-life experience — a conversation — I hope it is a lesson in love that I won’t so quickly forget.
The thoughts and feelings I experienced during this conversation made me think I should spend some time reading how St. Paul describes love in his first letter to the Corinthians so that the next time I meet a student like Sam, I may joyfully respond to him instead of begrudgingly engaging him. After reading through 1 Corinthians 13:1-8, I chose to include the excerpts below in this newsletter because each phrase reminded me specifically of my encounter with Sam.
If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal … Love is patient, love is kind … it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 13 (excerpts)
Until Sam knew I cared about him as a person, it did not matter how eloquently I defended the right to life of the unborn because he would have likely only heard me as a gong or a clashing cymbal. Somehow, I recognized that continuing to speak about abortion would have been in vain. Sadly, my initial thought in response to this was to abandon the conversation, which was not a reaction of patience. I’m grateful for the overwhelming thoughts that prompted me to find a way to love Sam and, in turn, prompted me to practice patience.
Even though I was begrudging the idea of continuing a conversation in which I felt mocked, disliked, and uncomfortable, the prompt to love Sam helped me to treat Sam with kindness. This prompting also gave me the strength to battle the temptations to:
be quick-tempered and abruptly tell him how false his ideas were,
seek my own interests by departing from this uncomfortable conversation, or
return the rudeness that I was encountering with further rudeness.
Love bears all things. I realize now that because I was given strength to bear the mockery and condescension at the beginning of the conversation with Sam, the doors opened for him to be vulnerable enough to share his story. It’s possible that prior to my conversation with him he had never felt free to be open with someone who is pro-life.
Tears fill the brims of my eyes, too, as I think of Sam and read that love believes all things, hopes all things … Love never fails. There are so many more thoughts and resources I want to share with Sam — but I cannot because I don’t know how to contact him. I want him to experience healing. I desire for him to help the mother of his child heal. I desire for Sam to hear the arguments against abortion, but I want him to hear them from someone who will be gentle with him. I want to believe and have hope that these things are possible — that even while my attempt to love Sam was imperfect, God’s love for Sam will not fail.
Please join me in praying for Sam and in studying these words of St. Paul’s in order that each of us can joyfully respond, with love, to every Sam we encounter in our lives.
AFTERWORD
Please see JFA's June Resource Bulletin, which includes resources you can use to help someone like Sam who has an abortion in his or her past. In addition, the Resource Bulletin links to a letter a young man wrote to his daughter after he found out she had been aborted. He named her Rilegh. You can use that letter to help someone begin to process a past abortion experience.
