Which person would be more likely to allow God to use them to save an innocent child: a taxi driver who is being paid to deliver a woman to an abortion center, or a pastor who has invested his lifetime in serving one rural church?  The answer may surprise you, unless you are familiar with what Jesus said in the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Early Tuesday morning last week, the taxi driver and the pastor were among the first people to arrive at Bakersfield’s FPA abortion center.

Ramon, a Spanish-speaking prayer volunteer, had arrived at 4 am, but he experienced such joy being in the presence of God at the vigil that he couldn’t pull himself away, even after four hours on the cold sidewalks.  As Terri prepared for a long day of ministry on the sidewalks, a red Latino Taxi cab pulled up.  Looking out at Terri and Ramon, he asked “are you against abortion?”

“Yes,” Terri replied.

“She’s yours now,” the driver said.

Angelica, Leticia, and Terri in the Traveling Life Center RV.

Terri and Ramon invited the taxi driver’s passenger, “Leticia,” into the new Traveling Life Center RV.  As Terri showed Eduardo Verastegui’s Dura Realidad video to Leticia, she began to cry.  She explained that her one year old child had been saved from abortion here.  Angelica arrived and provided further encouragement in Spanish.  Soon Terri connected her with an Elizabeth League group which will provide help and encouragement to her throughout her pregnancy.

The taxi driver, thankful that God had used him to help save a life, gave Leticia a free ride home.

While Terri and Ramon had been talking to Leticia in the RV, I filled in for Terri on the sidewalks, offering literature to those entering the killing center, encouraging them to surrender to God’s plan for their babies and for themselves.  A man who appeared to be about 70 years old led a women in her 20s in to the place of death, shielding her from my offer of help.  This man, we later learned, has been the young woman’s pastor all of her life.

With “Pray to End Abortion” signs prominently displayed along the sidewalks, people praying intensely and proclaiming Jesus’ plan for abundant life, the pastor chose to remain aloof from the people of God.  Standing in the alley with his arms folded, he aligned himself with the forces of death.

After Leticia had left, Terri tried to talk to him.  He harshly brushed her off, saying “move along!”

A few hours later, after her baby was aborted, the pastor’s young parishioner spoke to Terri as she prepared to leave the abortion business.  Seeking to justify her actions, she told Terri “he’s the pastor of the ‘Jesus church,'” apparently believing that his presence with her was an indication of God’s approval of her actions.  She also told Terri that her baby was deformed and that she was “about to be divorced.”

As I stood by listening, I heard enough clues that I wondered if I could locate this pastor’s church.  An Internet search brought quick results, providing the name, address, and telephone number of the church.  “But,” I asked myself, “now that I have this information, what do I do with it?”

The circumstances of the next few days provided me with an opportunity to let God guide me through an amazing sequence of events.  The details of what happened, including my further encounters with this pastor, are being recorded on our family blog.