My head was pounding, my heart heavy, tears threatened, and worries abounded as I got in the car.
“I cannot do this, Lord,” I said. After over six years as a sidewalk counselor in front of the abortion center, I knew I could NOT minister as God would have me minister to the abortion-minded women. I was a mess. How could I enter into their messiness and be of any use?
Seriously. This is a true story. Six years of experience should have counted for something, right?
All I had going for me that morning was what all believers have going for them. The Holy Spirit.
Fortunately, the day before I had been driving for five hours and had listened non-stop to Bible podcasts. Several were on the power of the Holy Spirit. One in particular grabbed my attention such that the hour flew by. It’s message: How often do we PRAY to the Holy Spirit?
I thought about that. NEVER, if I was being truthful. I pray to God the Father, and I pray to Jesus the Son…but I would have to honestly admit I had NEVER prayed to the Holy Spirit. Not once.
Yet the Holy Spirit is co-equal with the other two members of the Trinity. The Holy Spirit is responsible for guiding, admonishing, strengthening, inspiring all scripture, comforting, exhorting, convicting, creating, and praying for us when we have no words. Why would I NOT pray to Him, and plead with Him to do all those things especially when I am weak? Which is always. (And again, if I am honest, the giant of abortion can make all of us feel like grasshoppers.)
So, I got out of the car that morning at the abortion center sidewalk to the applause of torrential rain. The skies poured all their liquid misery on me. No other team members showed up for forty minutes. Cars streamed in to the abortion center. They opened the doors early. I was trying to call out to mocking women and angry men, while simultaneously attempting to stop cars and talk with the drivers before they entered that wretched place. I remembered the podcasts and prayed with every small break in activity, “Holy Spirit, help me. Convince their hearts. Guide me in wisdom, truth, and grace…I feel so small, so alone, but you are with me, and you are bigger than all of this. “
In the midst of those snatches of nascent prayers to the Holy Spirit, other counselors from Cities4Life arrived. I didn’t have time to greet them before a car stopped for me. The woman spoke not a word of English. I breathed another quick prayer to the Holy Spirit. The little Spanish I knew was sufficient to mention God and His clear command not to kill her precious child. That was apparently what she needed to hear. She burst into tears and pulled over to the curb. I grabbed my phone with its excellent translator app out of my soggy pocket. While rain dripped from my umbrella into her car, I conversed with her fluently in her language. She chose life, and then drove to the nearby Pregnancy Resource Center for an ultrasound after I made her an immediate appointment.
There were other unexpected and wonderful interactions. There were also some hard moments and discouragement. But throughout that rain soaked morning, I talked to the Holy Spirit. It was surprisingly one of the most assured, peaceful times on the sidewalk I have had in a long time.
HE was in control. Not me. The results here up to HIM. Not me. HE brought the words I needed. Not me. And in the last hour, HE stopped the tormenting rain. Not me.
I tell you this story because we have such a mighty resource. If you are like me, you tend to forget the power that all believers possess. The Holy Spirit. He is waiting for you to ask Him, as I did. Holy Spirit, you are welcome here.