It’s funny how a simple sound, like the ring of a telephone, can affect you. At the pregnancy center where I work, every time our phone rings I become excited. And fearful.
A couple of months ago, just before closing time, a sweet, smiling girl came in accompanied by her frowning fella. They had rushed across town to reach our center before we locked up for the night. The boyfriend had done the calling and appointment making. Unusual. They were in need of a pregnancy test. And one look at his furrowed brow made me think the boy may have confused us with a medical clinic where he could "fix" the problem.
I brought the sweet girl back to a counseling room. With the door closed, her smile dissolved and she poured out her deep hurts and fears. She became real and honest and fragile in our quiet little space. When it was time for the pregnancy test, she and I both took a deep breath. While escorting her to the bathroom, I noticed my co-worker, full of wisdom, compassion, and motherly care, talking with the boyfriend in the lobby. His hands were open and his brow was no longer furrowed. The clock ticked in the background, it was getting late. Finally, the sweet and fearful girl cracked open the bathroom door and invited me inside. The test results would appear in just a moment...
Blackout. In an instant, the lights died and we were suddenly swallowed by shadows. The sun had long since punched out for the day, and our bathroom door opened into a hall with no windows so that not even the moon could lend a helping ray or two. I felt and grasped my way out to the lobby, where my director appeared with a single flashlight to rescue us. We all smiled in the darkness and spoke quietly. Time to improvise. The girl and the boy said they'd like to finish their appointment even in the dark. So, I left my co-worker counseling the fella by the blue glow of a cell phone. I couldn't help but smirk at this bizarre turn of events. The timing of the blackout seemed impeccable. And strangely, there was no storm outside. No overblown fuse. We had seemingly been chosen at random for a counseling foray into the dark ages. So, in the flickering light of our little AA-powered plastic lantern, the sweet girl and I peered down at the pregnancy test.
Positive. We sat in silence. She looked at me, her eyes welling up with many things she didn't need to speak. Of course, she could love this baby. But her boyfriend could not. Without his help, she didn’t see how she could provide for herself, much less a little one. In our dim little room, with two pink stripes staring at us, she confessed to me that she did not know if she would become a mama. We talked for what seemed only a few more minutes, but ended up being closer to an hour. When we walked out to the still dark lobby, the frowning fella was now smiling. He’d told his counselor of his surprise that everyone remained so calm in the blackout. No one got upset. No one treated the unforeseen issue like a crisis. Maybe his girlfriend’s pregnancy was the same way. Maybe it wasn’t the crisis that he felt it was.
They said they'd like to come back again, together. They asked me to make an appointment for an ultrasound. In my heart, celebration was well under way. The next day I called them. He texted back. I made the appointment.
And they never showed.
Every time a new client calls for an appointment, I welcome her with hope in hand, ready to offer it freely to her. But, then fear grips me for just a moment. What if she talks and shares and cries...what if we are greeted again by two thin pink lines...and what if she walks out our door and never comes back? To know that a life exists right now, but that it might not exist tomorrow is heart-breaking. And when tomorrow comes and goes, and that life is perhaps extinguished, it is a tragedy. What if I meet yet another sweet girl unknowingly traveling the road to destruction, and she heads down that path anyway?
It's never simple for me to process this real concern. So, daily, I must return to the promise of my Father’s involvement and investment in these girls, in their babes, and in my life as well. Colossians 1:16-17, “For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”
“Unspeakable joy all day long and every day, was my happy experience. God, even my God, was a living and bright reality, and all I to do was joyful service.” - Hudson Taylor
