The Jimenez Family

Several times a day we stop and thank the Lord for what He has given us.
It usually revolves around a dinner table or a bedtime prayer.
A short intermittent reminder from Whom the day was given and to Whom it need be praised.
But when the leaves begin to fall, the frost starts to appear, and the seasons begin to change...
we take the time to reflect deeper.
Making lists. Writing on leaves. Creating thankful crafts.

Each of these things acting for us as a memorial.
A monument or marker...drawing our attention to all that our gracious Creator has supplied for us.
Similar to the stones of old...piled high with remembrance...signifying the Israelites reliance on Jehovah.

So Jacob rose early in the morning, and took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up as a pillar and poured oil on its top. He called the name of that place Bethel; however, previously the name of the city had been Luz. Then Jacob made a vow, saying, “If God will be with me and will keep me on this journey that I take, and will give me food to eat and garments to wear, and I return to my father’s house in safety, then the Lord will be my God. This stone, which I have set up as a pillar, will be God’s house, and of all that You give me I will surely give a tenth to You.”
Genesis 28:18-22

Not trusting in the sovereign plan of God, Jacob deceitfully took matters into his own hand.

Gaining a birthright, but losing his place in the home, he took for the road.

God chose that moment to remind him Who is in charge. Who ultimately gives the blessings.

In the midst of his sin, Jacob is reminded of God's steadfast faithfulness and sovereign plan.

And thus, he sets up a monument of remembrance.

In times of doubt...in the hesitancy of sin...in moments of anxiety...

Bethel will stand boldly as a reminder of the God that never leaves or forsakes.

A reminder of the plan that never fails.

A reminder of reality of the presence of an amazing God.

Then Moses called for all the elders of Israel and said to them, “Go and take for yourselves lambs according to your families, and slay the Passover lamb. You shall take a bunch of hyssop and dip it in the blood which is in the basin, and apply some of the blood that is in the basin to the lintel and the two doorposts; and none of you shall go outside the door of his house until morning.For the Lord will pass through to smite the Egyptians; and when He sees the blood on the lintel and on the two doorposts, the Lord will pass over the door and will not allow the destroyer to come in to your houses to smite you. And you shall observe this event as an ordinance for you and your children forever. Exodus 12:21-24

A memorial of redemption.

A people in need of being rescued from slavery. Living in dark times.

Surrounded by pain and suffering.

A calling to be set apart from those they were living amongst.

We are living in dark times. Times of slavery. Times of pain and suffering.

We need to set up a memorial...a monument to remind us to be set apart.

So Joshua called the twelve men whom he had appointed from the sons of Israel, one man from each tribe; and Joshua said to them, “Cross again to the ark of the Lord your God into the middle of the Jordan, and each of you take up a stone on his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the sons of Israel. Let this be a sign among you, so that when your children ask later, saying, ‘What do these stones mean to you?’ then you shall say to them, ‘Because the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord; when it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off.’ So these stones shall become a memorial to the sons of Israel forever.”

Joshua 4:4-7

A monument of parents.

A reminder to be a living testimony of thankfulness.

Breaking the cycle of complaining and grumbling.

Rehearsing for their children all of the provisions of their mighty God.

An opportunity for discipleship and training in righteousness.

They were to bring stones to set up a memorial...a visual sign of remembrance that the Lord is their God.

While they were eating, Jesus took some bread, and after a blessing, He broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is My body.” And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, He gave it to them, saying,“Drink from it, all of you; for this is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for forgiveness of sins. But I say to you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.”

Matthew 26:26-29

A memorial of grace.

While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

Pulling us out of the everyday routine and reminding us of our great need for a Savior.

A time to reflect upon the most significant gift...deserving of the sincerest gratitude.

To pause and recount all that it cost our gracious God to redeem us.

To remember that we are not of this world...but only passing through.

What monuments have you set up to act as reminders in times of anxiety and doubt?

What memorials are visible to the eyes of your children...training them to set their eyes upon the Savior?

Are we a generation that is living in thankfulness to the provisions from our God?

Have we broken the cycle of grumbling and complaining in our family?

Do we practice the presence of God...extending and receiving the sweetness of grace?

As this week rushes past and we move along to the next...may we pause to take the time to set up monuments and memorials in our lives.

Not just for this one special day of thanks...but for the mundane and ordinary days ahead.

God is always working. Moving through His sovereignty to unfold different elements of His plan. Sometimes He speaks and we fail to listen. Undeterred and plan still in motion, He makes it impossible for us to miss His calling. Everywhere I turned, the topic was abortion. On the news. On facebook. In a movie we just happened to rent from Redbox. Even in a novel that I picked up from the library. The tiny flame of conviction soon fanned into a desire to actually DO something about it rather than just be moved by it.
But having a conviction about something and knowing how to follow through with it are two different things. I knew that God was calling me to actively participate in some type of ministry for those unborn...but I was not exactly sure how that would look, what it would be, or even where to start.

Thankfully, God does not call without adequately providing a way to act upon it. Last Tuesday morning, during my quiet time, I made a commitment to the Lord - I would do whatever He asked...as long as HE was the one to show me the way. Not two hours later I received an email from a friend of mine in California. She shared how God had been using her family (including her six children) to minister at the abortion mills in Riverside. At the very end, she challenged me to get involved with a ministry here in Charlotte. I looked it up...sent out a quick email introducing myself and a desire to be used...and within an hour I had an invitation to join them at one of the abortion mills that morning. Wow...

With water bottles, snack bags, homemade posters, and a willing, yet nervous, heart - we loaded up the van and headed uptown. The kids had been prepped weeks before. As gently as we could, Jason and I had explained the issue of abortion to them. Their first response was disgust, then anger, and ultimately sadness. Our desire is for our children to grow up with a clear perspective of the world around them and a firm understanding of how TRUTH counterbalances it. Our discussions centered around grace and forgiveness...and most importantly - the Gospel. Just as we are in need of Christ's blood to forgive us and His Spirit to guide us, so those who are making these decisions are in need of it as well.

As we were leaving the house, Amy asked me how many hours away we were driving. She couldn't comprehend the thought the abortions were actually taking place in the city where she lived. Tyler was wondering why we weren't heading to the hospital...in his mind...that is where medical procedures take place. I listened to their questions...and prayed. Prayed for their hearts to be prepared. Prayed for my heart to have wisdom and discernment. Prayed for the girls that were driving the exact same route but for a very different purpose.

Once there, we joined another family already in action. They have actively been ministering at this mill for several years. It is a family with ten children...all different ages...all involved in sidewalk ministry. Some of the kids held signs, some prayed silently on the sidewalk, others stood in the street waiting for approaching cars. The older ones took turns pushing the younger ones in the stroller or playing across the street in the woods. But all of them participated. The Jimenez family just stood back for the first hour or so...trying to take it all in...get an understanding of what was going on...and process the feelings that came with it all.

It's hard to paint the picture of that first morning in adequate words. The abortion mill is situated at the back of a business complex. There are no other buildings next to it. If you drive that far back on the street...it is obvious where you are heading. It is also close to a bus-stop...apparently making it convenient to everyone.
It is not a doctors office...or a clinic. It is not outfitted with proper tools in case of an emergency. It is a mill. A sterile room with each patient lined up so that the abortionist can move down a row and take as little as two minutes on each procedure. Though it is an invasive (murderous) procedure, these patients usually ~~walk~~ hobble out of the clinic within fifteen minutes of it being completed.

I wish I could explain the overwhelming feeling of oppression that pushed down on my soul as we stayed there that morning. Or the tangible presence of evil pressing in around us. Or the devastating sadness of watching car after car turn into the lot. It was an eye opening experience for all of us. We were there for a total of two hours. And in that two hours, there were thirty abortions. THIRTY. And that was on a slow day.

The stories varied throughout the morning. Some cars drove in...and stopped when they saw us. We were able to pass out a little booklet Tiny Hands That Hold My Heart - a beautiful, loving book that show pictures of the different gestation stages. We were able to tell them of the THREE doctors in Charlotte that provide pre-natal and delivery care absolutely FREE! We were able to share with them about the places located in Charlotte that provide lodging and counsel during crisis pregnancies. We were able to hand them a little tract that presents the TRUTH of God's grace and forgiveness.
But other cars....drove right past us. Windows sealed tight. Eyes looking forward. Tears streaming down faces. It was heart-wrenching to watch them struggle. Some of them clearly debating about the choice about to be made. One young couple drove in, sat in the car for about ten minute and then walked up to the door sobbing. The young girl was in obvious turmoil. And we all sat and prayed desperately for her heart to be changed. But her partner successfully convinced her...and all but dragged her behind him as he walked into the mill.

Once the patients are "in the back", no one is allowed with them. While waiting for his wife, one man came out to the parking lot and made it very apparent he was disgusted with our presence. He had a few choice words to say to us...followed by some hand gestures. He then proceeded to park his car right next to us on the sidewalk and blast profane rap music. Undeterred, we continued to pray and reach out to any car that would stop and listen. He watched every encounter and cheered when each car pulled into the lot. As we began to pack up and get ready to leave...he turned off his music and calmly walked over to us. He apologized for his actions and the words he had spoken. We asked him about his "story" and why he was there that morning. Turns out, he is a father of four. His wife had just miscarried six weeks earlier. Devastated she went in for her check up only to find out it had been twins. The doctor told her that the child wouldn't be healthy and advised abortion. Even though this same doctor had been the one to admit her to a psychiatric ward because she had attempted suicide after the miscarriage.

At first, we just listened. Hearing his story and the sadness that had already plagued his family. Then we attempted to speak truth...not so much about the issue at hand...but more about God's grace, forgiveness and sovereignty. It quickly changed tones. From calm to frustrated to belligerent. He walked away in anger. Telling us not to pray for him or his family...he would be fine on his own. Ten minutes later we watched, with silent tears, as his wife painfully made her way to the car and drove away. Taking with her a mountain load of tragedy and sorrow.

That night, we sat around and processed all that we had seen and heard. We gave the kids an opportunity to share their hearts...wanting to see how it had affected them. It was a life-changing experience. Tyler told us that he was glad that he had gone. "You've told us about these things before and then I saw them. I know they are real now. It was really sad, but I'm glad I was there because now I know how to pray for them." Amy honestly told us that she was "creeped out" by the whole thing. I told her she didn't have to go back but she told me, "I know God would want me to go. We told them the truth...and there might not be anyone else that does."

It was a day that will not soon be forgotten. A day that we have talked about many times since. And hopefully, a day that marks the beginning of a new Jimenez ministry...

From childhood, I was brought up to value life. My parents opened our home to many a troubled girl that needed shelter. Our home was a refuge for pregnant women - seeking guidance, truth, and love. Modeled before my young innocence was a philosophy of "doing" the Word - not just hearing it. Watching my parents give up their own resources to take care of those that had none significantly impacted me for the future.
Then several years later, my little brother entered our family. A beautiful story of adoption that never ceases to amaze us. A tapestry that continues to unfold even now...years later.
As a senior in high school I decided to do a research paper on abortion. It was horrifying.
While I knew the facts, seen videos, and participated in Walk-for-Life rallies...nothing prepared me for the evil I was to encounter. Without disclosing my purpose I made an appointment with Planned Parenthood in Tucson. They were all to eager to invite me into their "safe-haven" - promising me that no one would ever have to know. It was a sickening experience. Walking into the "clinic" the evil was tangible...like passing through a thick cloud or curtain. Knowing that thin walls separated me and the extinction of thousands of sweet innocent lives. I took some literature, asked some questions, played the role of confused hurting teenager...then ran for my life out the door! It was definitely an "awakening" experience.

Fifteen years later and four incredible blessings underfoot...life has taken on an even greater meaning. Pregnancy is no longer a foreign concept. I have felt the flutters of a fetus growing inside my womb. I have seen the imprint of a foot pressed up against my stomach. I have marveled at a black and white screen - able to pick up ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. I have encountered life being fashioned and formed in my uterus. I have become intimately aware of the delicacy and beauty of our Creator.
Throughout these last several years, I have also witnessed the incredible obedience of adoption. Watching first hand as families have grown overnight. Knowing that God's sovereignty is above and beyond all the we could ever ask or imagine.
All of this has imprinted upon me a passion for life. A desire to advocate for the fifty-eight MILLION that have been murdered in America since 1973. It has caused me to examine what efforts I am making to stand in the gap for these little ones. Realizing that:

If you falter in a time of trouble, how small is your strength! Rescue those being led away to death;
hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say, "But we knew nothing about this," does not He who weighs the heart perceive it? Proverbs 24:10-12

Challenged and burdened with this overwhelming conviction, I began to pray fervently for God to show me exactly what I could DO to help stem the tide. I do not plan to be in politics or change legislation (although it CAN be done). But I also do not want to reach the end of my days wondering how I contributed to the apathy and complacency by doing nothing. I want to pass onto my children a legacy of life...a passion to protect and stand up for those unborn. A sense of urgency to take action. I do not want my children to grow up accepting abortion as a misfortune or an unfortunate event - but a holocaust, an atrocity, a travesty!

These were my convictions. Challenges pressed upon my heart through Scripture and the Holy Spirit. A reminder that if Gideon had never left the winepress the Midianites would not have been defeated. If Nehemiah had remained comfortable in the king's palace the wall would not have been rebuilt. If Esther had not risked all the Jews would have been massacred. And on and on...stories of ordinary people accomplishing extraordinary feats through the calling and power of God. All because they had heeded the call and challenge of God.

I will not be silent anymore. I will not sit idly by while those that plot and plan evil go unthwarted in my city. I will not come up with excuse after excuse as to why those babies are not important enough for my time. Their blood is crying out from the ground. I will not bury my head in the sand because the disgust and filth is too much for me. As for me and my house...we will serve the Lord. We will leave a legacy of life.

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