The alarm was way too early. I knew that even as I set it Friday night, stuffed to the gills with Greek food and dreading the wake up call the next morning. I scarfed down a quick bowl of cereal and coffee, pumped up my tires, and threw my bike in the trunk. Dad and I were early (are you surprised?) meeting up with AMDG Cycling for our ride.
Every third Saturday of the month, a group of (mostly) men meet up and ride 27 miles to Planned Parenthood off 38th, pray for the unborn babies and the families afflicted by abortion, and ride 27 miles back. Sporting jerseys bearing Our Lady of Guadalupe on one shoulder and St. Christopher on the other, with a crown of thorns encircling the collar, this group is a fantastic witness even as they ride. This Saturday, there were 9 men and me: a motley crew ranging from an 18 year old scrawny kid to a father of 10. Some were regular riders, some only in tennis shoes, but all reverent in our mission.
When we got to Planned Parenthood, these men knelt on the asphalt with just their gloves as cushion, and prayed for just one life to be saved. It was an incredibly moving sight, seeing the humility with which they offered their Saturday, and when I tried to thank them--as a woman who often feels the absence of men in the Church--one of them shook his head and said, "Abortion is a male problem." I could tell he felt like it was his duty to be there.
On the way back, my legs started to burn in protest, but seeing the backs of the jerseys in front of me, emblazoned with "AMDG" and "Let nothing be inconvenient", it was easy to press on. So as often as I feel like our world is crumbling and turning its back on God, it's a blessing and a grace to know that not everyone is resigned to that fate. There are men who are fighting with the fervor of the martyrs, and their efforts will bear much fruit, even if we never see it.
