Why I Walked

Well...I guess it was technically a march. But there wasn't much of that going on - someone with my lack of coordination can't keep a good march going. So I'm going to say I walked.

On Monday I had the privilege to take part in the annual Right to Life March (or walk in my case) in Washington D.C. to protest on the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, which legalized abortion in all fifty states. I'll supply my fun times, pictures, and touristy adventures soon, but I think it's important to take a minute and tell you why I did this thing in the first place. It's important and I'd love to hear your thoughts, whether you concur or not.

Braving the rain

Ahhh. Where to begin. Well let's start by saying abortion has always been something that has caught my attention. I wrote a research paper on it for a history class, presented on it for a political science class, and wrote an essay on it for an English class. I interned at Bethany Christian Services, an adoption agency, this summer because I strongly believe in their mission to be there as a positive, loving option to young mothers in difficult situations. But the reason I did the walk is a little stronger than just an area of interest.

My partner in crime for the walk

Before I go on, let me say: I realize the stereotypes that come along with being an advocate for the pro-life cause. Some of the things I don't mind, some of the things I really can't stand. I understand that in every large, opinionated group of people there will be those on the extreme who don't do things with tact. I realize that when I tell some of you that I went to D.C. for this reason it might seem annoying and naive. I realize that women in difficult pregnancy situations need a loving community, not angry threats. I see that there are people on the other side of the argument who are very intelligent. People who know a lot of things. But there are a few things that I know too.  

I know that I was made for a purpose. I know that you were made for a purpose. Everyone has a purpose. 

Every life has a purpose. 

I know that when I didn't value my own life, there was someone else who did. That someone valued my life so much that He gave his own to pay for it. 

I know that because of what He did, now I think life is the most valuable thing in existence, and the only way to treat it is with love. 

I know that it's my job to spread the word. I have to tell people this thing that I know: that love is the only way to deal with a life. 

I know that someone fought for my life when I couldn't on my own. I know that I was in death's grip until someone took me back and proclaimed my life to be important. To be worth it. 

And so I guess I walked for a lot of reasons. But I kept feeling this particular one coming up in my mind: 

Anna, you gotta stand up for those lives because someone else stood up for yours.

If I don't stand up for life, what does that say about my relationship to the one who died for mine? My relationship with Him compels me to do something. Say something. Because the love of life is so integral to who I am, it's like it was programmed on my heart. And being silent or passive on the issue would just be a lie to myself, a lie to those precious lives that are being thrown away, a lie to those mothers who have strength and purpose beyond comprehension, and a lie to the one who started it all - the one who had the courage to love life first.