Dodging Haymakers Outside the Abortion Clinic

Owen Strachan | January 23, 2014


My welcome-to-ministry moment at the abortion clinic began with a haymaker.

It was fitting. Louisville is the city of Ali. Up to this moment, I had connected with the area's boxing culture only by gazing at billboards along the way featuring the dashing young Mr. Clay. Now, I found myself in my own personal boxing ring. This one happened to be a four-lane street in the middle of rush hour. My erstwhile opponent was—I kid you not—a 4'10" woman with murder in her eyes.

IMG_6115-webHow did I get here? I thought as I bobbed and weaved. The question, then and now, deserves an answer.

Pro-Life, But Not That Pro-Life

I grew up in a Christian home in Maine. I remember being passionately pro-life from childhood. Every once in a while, a pro-life activist came to my church, the First Baptist Church of East Machias. I recall being transfixed from an early age at the horrors of abortion. In high school, I wrote an essay for the Downeast Coastal Press, our county's excellent local paper,on this same topic. In college, I had conversations with friends who did not share my convictions. This was fairly standard pro-life involvement for many…


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