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A massive thunderstorm with lightning, hail, and high winds had been saturating New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma for a full day and was headed for Kansas. A local radio station had predicted that it would enter Keyota by three o’clock and bring torrential rain for the following twenty-four hours or longer. A southwest wind toyed with tree branches like a kid with a yo-yo, and the smell of rain was served to the city. Dogs in backyards paced, and the elderly swallowed aspirin for their achy joints.
Raindrops that came to Kansas were the size of Ping-Pong balls and could produce small streams with currents in the sewers and conduits of the city in ten minutes. These gully washers cleared the city pipes of dead rodents like skunks, rats, snakes, or other unpleasant varmints.
God has a way of making good come out of even the saddest event. And though the storm headed for Keyota would cause expensive damage to homes and property, it would also save one certain tiny life.
Three hours into the storm, Keyota had received six inches of rain. Hail had broken windows, dented cars, and redesigned the roofs of 432 houses. Local police had recorded seventy-four vehicle accidents, and hospital emergency rooms were filling up with the injured.
Trees were downed, and power outages blackened large sections of the city. The wind whipped through the streets at seventy-three miles per hour.
Old folks wrapped in shawls lit candles and reminisced about comparable storms and of Dust Bowl days. Millennial and Boomers moved their minivans and SUVs into their garages and ate leftovers. Babies cried or slept right through the thunder, while the downtown homeless checked into shelters.
Ryan leaned against the northeast wall of a large abortion clinic, chewing on a long piece of dried grass. The roof’s wide overhang, combined with the southwest wind, created a dry spot for him to stand. He had a perfect view of a large concrete ditch lined with hedges and filled with swiftly moving rainwater.
Wedged between two hedges was a rain-soaked cardboard box that was home to a white female cat just beginning her labor pains. Ryan watched as she panted, grunted, pushed, and then rested. The frequent lightning and vibrating thunder added no comfort to her misery.
Yesterday, dry and secluded, the cardboard box was the best place she could find to give birth to her tiny kittens. But the glue that once held the box together was now dissolving. The box top had bent in half, and the sides were giving way, about to collapse. This laboring mama cat would have to move on and find a new home for the kittens soon to be born.
Confused and hurting, she didn’t know of a better place to go. But Ryan did. Another act in God’s perfect plan was about to take place. The time had come to make his move.
His eyes glued to the rain-soaked box, Ryan threw down the Johnson grass and spit like a ballplayer about to hit a homerun. At the box, he bent down, gently lifted the mama cat to her feet, and said, “There’s a dry spot under the front steps of this building. It’s higher ground there, and it’s the most perfect place for you to give birth to your babies. It’s where God wants you.”
Of course, the cat couldn’t understand Ryan’s words, but just as he spoke them, she had the great idea of moving herself to a dry spot under the front steps of the building.
The next day, the sun was out, and the city had begun to restore itself from storm damage and flooding. Power had been restored to parts of the city, and it was business as usual for most, including the local abortuary. It opened its doors just as BeccAnne, a sixteen-year-old high-school sophomore, opened her vanity drawer at home and carefully chose a pink lipstick for the day. She was thirteen weeks pregnant and had a four o’clock appointment.
Her eighteen-year-old boyfriend had begged her to have an abortion. He felt that a child in his life right then would interfere with his college plans. He confided in his father, who told BeccAnne that there was nothing to an abortion; it was just tissue being removed. Then he supplied the money and booked the appointment to have his grandchild aborted.
Things happened so fast that BeccAnne didn’t have much time to think about what she wanted. But in her heart, she knew what grew inside her. It was a baby. She knew that if she did not have the tissue removed as scheduled, in six months she would give birth. Each morning as she rose and each night as she slipped into her footed pajamas, she wondered how it could be just tissue if a child came out of it. Now more than ever, BeccAnne needed her mother, but this news would certainly break her heart.
The day of her appointment had come, and she drove to the abortuary all by herself—but not alone.
Jam-packed in the front and back seats, and attached to the door handles, and bumpers of her car, were Holy kids and a few iridescent-winged baby angels. They were there to encourage BeccAnne to let her baby live.
BeccAnne considered turning her car around and heading back home, but how would she ever explain that decision to her boyfriend and his dad? She kept on driving. Knowing that she was about to take part in an unspeakable event, she felt her heart grow heavy; and felt its beat all over her body.
Arriving at the clinic, she parked her car and recounted the cash in her purse. Yes, it would be enough to eliminate one small life to keep another life simpler. As she replaced the money, her hands shook, and her teeth chattered.
Tears of sadness welled in her eyes as she entered the private gate and unconfidently made her way through the shady courtyard toward the front porch of the clinic. There, holy moms and dads surrounded her and walked with her. They urged her to leave this place of evil and let the little one be born.
BeccAnne stopped at a wooden bench near the front porch, deciding to rest a moment and collect the thoughts that seemed to bombard her. Her mind was swirling with thoughts. Confused, she pulled tissues from her pocket and sobbed.
Ryan sat down beside her, his holy hand patting her back, and he spoke. “There’s a precious baby growing inside you who needs to be born. God has a special plan for your future, BeccAnne, and he has chosen a loving, Christian man and wife to adopt your child. This baby needs to be born to fulfill the plan God has for him. Great blessings are in store for you, too, but you must go now from this place of destruction and pray.”
When BeccAnne came up for air, she wiped away tears and whispered to her unborn child, “You are a special gift from God, little one.”
For the first time, she felt her child move within her. Then she knew without a doubt that there was a child, alive, growing and waiting to be born.
“And look at me,” she said. “I was about to throw you away. I am so sorry,” she cried.
Through her tears, she confessed, “God, I can’t do this on my own. If You’re really there, I’ll need Your help more now than ever. Will You help me tell my parents? Will You help me find that Christian man and wife that You have chosen to raise this child?”
Just then she saw a white cat enter the courtyard and head straight for her. The cat rubbed against BeccAnne and let out a loud meow before it slipped under the open porch. BeccAnne loved cats. She smiled and watched as it nestled in among a litter of seven tiny kittens that immediately began nursing.
BeccAnne’s spirit was restored to joy. She knew the cat’s meow had to be a message from God. If He would take care of those tiny kittens in last night’s storm, she knew that He would always be there for her.
Standing, she gathered her purseful of money and walked back to her car. As she opened the car door, holies scattered to clear a spot for her. Ryan stood outside and helped her shut the door. He leaned inside the car window and said, “Pray for God’s wisdom, BeccAnne. Read His Word and pray every day. And never forget to listen for the still, small voice.”
As she drove toward home, BeccAnne felt that her heart was no longer heavy. She felt God’s Holy Spirit right beside her.