The Tale of Two Clinics

My neurologist’s office is a stone’s throw away from the Planned Parenthood clinic in Ann Arbor. I arrived early for my appointment yesterday, so I drove by the clinic. It hadn’t opened yet. There was an unmanned mini van parked on the road covered with messages about abortion not being the answer. A small yard sign in the bushes out front urged people to not talk with the protesters. It was too early for protesters. Too early for ladies making that difficult decision that led them to this building. I was saddened as I drove through the circle drive outside of the clinic.

I tried to imagine all the women who have entered scared, worried, regretful, heartbroken, and hurting. Some probably thought that abortion was their only option. Many come alone. I don’t know anyone who looks forward to entering this place. I tried to imagine all the little lives, precious and loved by God, fearfully and wonderfully made that will never breathe, smile and experience life on earth. 

The parking area was empty. It was just me and Jesus. I prayed that God would comfort the ladies who were grieving and overwhelmed by their decisions. I prayed that a loving follower of Jesus would come along side these women and shower them with love of a forgiving Savior. I prayed that abortion would end in our land. There are so many factors that contribute to women entering this place, I prayed that God would help us and forgive our sins. I prayed and prayed and prayed.

Sometimes that’s the best thing we can do.

After my appointment, I drove back to Central church. The Peak (our gym facility) parking lot was filled. On Wednesdays, Central church hosts the Genesee County Health Department as a vaccination clinic. 1200 people (or so) entered our building, greeted by the prettiest greeter (it was Karla), passing a sign inviting them to Central church, and ready to get vaccinated. 

Most people coming to this clinic are happy to be there. Maybe nervous about needles (no one likes to get a shot); maybe concerned about the possible side effects; still they are glad to be there. They would exit our building with a Band-Aid on their shoulder and hope that the pandemic is one more shot closer to being over. 

Again, I prayed.

I prayed for all who entered that they would be well. I prayed for the volunteers inside. I prayed that the vaccines would work. I prayed that the pandemic would end. I prayed for those who have decided that vaccines are not best option for them at this time. I prayed for comfort for those families who have been so terribly affected by Covid—either through loss, loneliness, depression or some other hardship. I prayed and prayed and prayed.

Sometimes that’s the best thing we can do. 

Yesterday I drove by two clinics. I’m no doctor. As such, I can’t give medical advice (should you get a vaccine? Ask your doctor), but spiritual advice. If given the chance, I would tell the ladies exiting the first clinic, “God loves you.” And I’d tell those exiting the second clinic, “God loves our world.” And I can pray. That’s what I did. I prayed for both clinics and the people entering and exiting. That’s the best thing I can do.

3 thoughts on “The Tale of Two Clinics

  1. John Wagner

    Powerful and thought provoking Pastor Rob…thank you! I’m going to try and PRAY more today.🙏🏻 Prayerfully, Jack Wagner

    Sent from my iPad

    >

    Reply
  2. Sharon Murry

    SHARON MURRY
    Another good one as usual. Glad you mentioned the people all alone. Depression is horrible. I have had my shots and look forward to being a lot stronger from the three cancers one right after the other and getting back to Central in Lenexa. Still missing you so much.

    Reply

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