His Mercy Surrounding, Part 2

Read part 1 here!

As Becky nibbled on a chocolate chip cookie at home that evening, she let her mind wander.  There was nothing pressing for her attention at the moment.

Becky had been more than a little nervous to start volunteering at the pregnancy crisis center.  Normally, when she met a new person, there was a lot of self-consciousness.  What would the person think of her?  What would she say?  Would there be common ground?  But somehow, when she read about a woman who had been in the abortion industry, Abby Johnson, it had resonated and called her to action.  Abby Johnson was a real person.  Someone with a heart, and confusion, and an awakening.  And God used sweet, loving protestors--ones who prayed and gave instead of shouting--to awaken Abby's heart, to turn her from the abortion clinics to something different.

Now Becky would talk to people without much fear.  She still occasionally bit her lip after saying something she feared was stupid.  But God was with her, giving her the right words much of the time, and blessing the process, giving sparks of light to women wavering in their decisions, wondering and hurting and needing a friend.

Becky had not always been loving.  Before Christ saved her, showing her the beauty of love and sacrifice and changing her heart, there had been haughtiness and disdain for the lost, or those with tattoos and spiked hair and too-tight pants.  Now, she knew she was just like them, and so she loved them, wanted God's love to reach into their lives.  She still struggled with pride at times, still caught herself grimacing at the biker chicks, but not so much.  Their souls were the important things, the place everything started and ended, and the place God could dwell.

Tears dotted her eyes.  To show the same love Jesus showed . . . that was her goal.  Unattainable in its entirety, but the thing she strove to reflect.  Her words still halted and stumbled, she still felt too small for the task.  But that was the beauty of God.  He was enough.  More than enough.  His strength was sufficient, and with Him all things were possible!

Becky heard her mother greet her father with a loud exclamation of joy at the front door.  How blessed she was to have parents that loved each other and her, so much so that they lived and proclaimed the gospel every day!

"Becky, where are you?" she heard her dad ask.

She brushed her face clear of crumbs and tears, and answered as she hurried out, "Here I am!"

His whole face brightened.  "How was your day?"  His eyes were glued on hers.  Her weekly visits to the abortion clinic were an exciting thing for them all.

"Quite good, Daddy," she replied, leaning into his hug.  "It was Payton's first day, and I think she did very well.  She's much more personable than I am, chatting like an old friend to everyone."

Her father gave her a warning smile.  "That's good, but don't compare yourself.  You have a gift in your way of communicating, as well, one God placed in you for a reason.  Not that we can't all use improvement, but . . . you listen well, and that's a gift."

Becky felt her face warm and nodded.  "Thank you.  But Payton did well.  And we had a girl who I think seriously wants to have her baby after seeing the sonogram!"

"Praise God!"

"She looked physically ill when she looked at it, wide-eyed and frozen in place."  Becky grabbed the ice from the freezer and put three cubes in a glass for her dad.  "So many people don't realize . . ." 

Her dad squeezed her hand.  "I'm so thankful you can be there."

"So am I, Daddy," Becky said.  "So am I."