As I shared with you this morning at church, our prayer of faith really releases spiritual energy making it possible for God to move His angels around for the advancement of His kingdom.
Have you noticed all these abortion posters in town, inviting people to have a “painfree” 3rd term abortion. We know personally from doctors at our private hospital who had to deal with victims of those abortionists how harmful these procedures were to the women and how horrible a death for those children whose cries nobody heard. As a church, we want to extend our hand in support and encouragement to every girl and woman who is faced with an unwanted pregnancy, and help her through these difficult 9 month and help her make an informed decision as to whether she wants to raise the child or consider an adoption. In both cases, counseling and practical support are needed. Out of many years of counseling experience we know that 9 month of pregnancy are a sacrifice that is worthwhile, compared to a lifetime of guilt and immense physical aftereffects from an abortion. And for the child in question, having a shot at life, a chance to experience all that God has intended for blessings, is priceless. Please pray with us that girls and women in need will find their way to the church and will not trust the false promises on these posters everywhere. Pray that the police will always be quick to catch these illegal charlatans that are committing murder for a quick buck.
Here is a heart wrenching story about how a house of prayer became an abortion clinic and was in the end reclaimed to be a place of good.
What is remarkable is the whole set up of deception. The poor ladies are separated from their supporters upon arrival at the clinic, seated on plush couches before they pay, after the abortion in a seedy room they are left on old wooden chairs in a hallway by themselves. Its just about the money. Nothing else. The true motivation of an abortion clinic is not to help women, it is to makemoney by butchering kids. Please pray that God opens the eyes and hearts of our citizens. Arguments cannot do that. Love does that.
“In the entryway was a stairwell going up as well as down. I was told that when a women would come in for an abortion, frequently she would have a boyfriend, family member, or someone else along with her. They would send her downstairs and the support person upstairs. They didn’t want to take the risk that the support person might persuade the pregnant woman to not go through with the abortion, which would cost them several hundred dollars of lost revenue.
At the bottom of the steep stairs, the pregnant woman was directed into a waiting room filled with beautiful, padded couches. After filling out her paperwork, she would sit with other women on a couch to quietly wait for her abortion appointment.
What she didn’t know was what was in the very next room.
When the door into the next room was opened, I was stunned. Years earlier, parts of the ceiling had collapsed from water damage, and since nothing had ever been repaired, there was a strong smell of rot and mildew. Cockroaches scattered across the floor as we stepped in. This was literally a foot away, through the wall, from where the women sat while they waited for their abortions. I recoiled at the thought of such conditions in a facility providing surgical procedures.
We walked into the next room down the hall– the main “procedure” room, where the majority of the abortions were performed. Most of the surgical equipment had been removed, but since abortions had been performed there until shortly before my arrival, there was still a large rectangle of dried blood and rust marking where the surgical table had been attached to the worn linoleum floor.
The abortion suction machine had been removed from the wall, but I could see mold where it had been attached. There were a few surgical tools on the counter that had been left exactly as they were on the last day of abortions, mere days before — unsterilized and showing signs of rust.
I asked, “What is that indentation on the floor — that arc worn into the linoleum?”
My guide said, “That’s where the abortionist stood, at the foot of the surgical table, moving back and forth extracting, often in pieces, the thousands of children who died in this room.”
Chills ran down my spine.
Then they took me to the final room in that downstairs hallway — the recovery room where the women were sent to recuperate after the abortions. As I took in the dismal room, I couldn’t help but think that by the time the women arrived here, the abortion business had already gotten everything it wanted from these “clients” — the procedure was over, and they’d paid their money. What must they have felt as they stepped into that last miserable room to sit on these old, rotted chairs with their stained seats? My host explained that here the abortion staff would give each woman a little cup of juice and a cookie, then just leave her to fend for herself. When she felt ready, she would stand and walk out — possibly without any companion at all.
David recounted his amazement at the fact that several days before his arrival, children were dying in this building at 72 Ransom Ave in Grand Rapids, which was now completely dedicated to saving lives and helping women. “On that day,” he said, “I faced the reality that we are engaged in an epic struggle between good and evil, between light and darkness, between heaven and hell. This is a spiritual battle.”
- Abortionist: Unborn baby like ‘meat in crockpot’ (wnd.com)
- May 9, 2013 “A House Of Prayer” (pastormikemcdowell.wordpress.com)