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Archives ‘Our life is a march of hope’

Feb. 3, 2016

By Kristina Dean
Staff writer

As I climbed aboard the Northern Youth bus early Thursday morning, my hopes were high. I March of hopewas excited for my oldest son and I to attend the 43rd annual International March for Life in Washington, D.C., something I'd wanted for years. The march occurs on January 22, the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, a U.S. Supreme Court decision in 1973 which legalized abortion.

Sitting in the last seat at the back of the bus, I prayed the Rosary with the other travelers. As we rode, sunlight from the east slanted through the windows bathing us in a golden glow. I felt filled with purpose, filled with just cause, filled with motivation. I was anxious yet excited to belong to something so important to me, to march with hundreds of thousands of other peaceful warriors in the pro-life movement.

As we traveled most of the day, a huge storm approached our destination, a historic storm that would blow in and leave close to two feet in a place where milder weather was the norm. We'd receive texts, calls and posts from loved ones urging us to be safe, be careful, to cancel plans.

Believing we were called to march despite the circumstances, and considering it an adventure, we continued to our destination. Arriving late in the afternoon, we drove through the heart of the capital stopping briefly at the national mall for a group picture and a short sightseeing stint. Later after checking in at the hotel and dinner, we listened to pro-life speakers then celebrated Mass in the hotel lobby. That evening, it was announced we would leave immediately after the march on Friday to miss the storm which was slated to begin around 5 p.m.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Finally, I thought, I’m here. I will stand up for the unborn, for the voiceless who can’t protect themselves. I wondered what it would feel like to be surrounded by people who all believe the same thing. Probably like many, I feel alone in my faith sometimes. My views can be unpopular and are sometimes criticized. It can be hard to be Catholic in this world. I feel alone at work, and sometimes even with family. I remember thinking it would be amazing to be surrounded by hundreds of thousands of pro-life advocates.

In the morning, the news was filled with dire weather predictions, but nothing could dampen my excitement. We attended a Life is Very Good Rally and Mass at George Mason University sponsored by the Archdiocese of Arlington, Virginia. The plan was to drive downtown, attend a rally at the Washington Monument, then march down Constitution Avenue to the Supreme Court.

But as we waiting to leave, we were informed the snow was coming earlier than expected, and the decision was made for us to miss the march and head back home.

I was stunned. It felt wrong to leave after traveling all that way and not accomplish our goal. I was upset. My heart hurt, and tears starting leaking. I felt like kicking something. Sitting in all my layers of clothing including my purple March for Life shirt, I stared out the window. I was angry, but had no target for my anger. I didn’t blame the decision makers, how could I? They were keeping us safe. I was angry at the situation. I prayed, “God, I know I live according to your will and not my own, but I don’t like this! I want to march. I don’t want to leave without marching!”

Somehow in the midst of my self-pity and inner temper tantrum, a thought slowly dawned.

Perhaps…….perhaps our life is a march where we carry the cause in our hearts and love in our souls. Our life is a march of hope. A march of living our lives through our faith, speaking out against injustice, praying and loving those who need healing, gently persuading others and carrying them to Christ with us. Protecting and speaking for those who can’t. Loving all. That’s our march.

It’s not just a once-a-year event. Offering up our prayers, our disappointments, anxieties, sufferings and joys is another way we can march together as well. Bus captain and chaplain Father Mark Reilly suggested to the Northern bus that we not only pray for all touched by abortion, but to offer any disappointments and sadness as a sacrifice to God. Our suffering can be united to Jesus’ suffering on the cross, and can be used for others we may not even know.

Catholic author Peter Kreeft explains it as, “if we are ‘in Christ’, we, like him, can offer up our sufferings to the Father - and he uses them. They become seeds, or rainwater, and something beautiful springs up that we seldom see in this life.”

And Bishop Fulton Sheen wrote, “Pain, agony, disappointments, injustices - all these can be poured into a heavenly treasury from which the anemic, sinful, confused, ignorant souls may draw unto the healing of their wings.”

So although I wouldn’t describe my disappointment as agony or an injustice, sitting there on the bus I held up my disappointment to Jesus, in the hopes that perhaps He would use my tiny drop, poured with thousands of other tiny drops into an ocean of mercy for those that need it.

It is a beautiful thing that our suffering and disappointments can be transformed and used in this manner. My trip without a march was not meaningless in helping the pro-life cause. Perhaps my tiny disappointment in some way helped another person heal from the pain of abortion. Perhaps it changed someone’s mind. Perhaps it simply comforted another. Perhaps it was added into that “heavenly treasury” and will be used in a manner of which I could never conceive.

I trust in God that we followed His purpose in His time. In faith, may we continue together in our march of life, our march of hope, our march of love.

 

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