It is my privilege to stand before you this morning and ask for your support of Heartbeat; but I must admit it also seems like a great opportunity to tell a whole big roomful of people what is, and I give you my word on this, my favorite story in the whole world. I tell this story to anybody who will listen and by now I’ve told it to quite a few people who I am sure weren’t listening. If perhaps you were one of these, this morning you will be getting a second chance. It’s from the Bible.

 

 

This story begins with a man who one Sunday after church thought he would enjoy a change of scenery, a breath of fresh air, some time in the country. So, he jumped into his sports car which flew like it had wings; and in no time at all, he was out of the city, through the suburbs and down some back country roads. After a bit, up ahead on the left, he saw a man who appeared from his manner of dress to be a farmer. And on a short length of rope, this farmer was walking what appeared to be a pig. But there was something peculiar about this pig. As the man in the sports car drew closer, he could see that this pig had one wooden leg. That’s right, one wooden leg. He pulled up alongside the farmer and they exchanged “ Hellos.” Then, the man in the sports car said, “In all creation, I’ve never seen anything like this. Can you tell me how this happened?” The farmer stopped walking and said to the man, “Do you see all those oilrigs pumping away off in the distance?” The man in the sports car said “Yes, I do”. The farmer said, “About ten years back, this pig of mine started beating his snout on the ground in the middle of the barnyard. I knew he was smart and on to something, so I got out my shovel and started to dig. Up came the oil. Now I’m the richest man in ten counties and I owe it all to this here pig.”

 

The man in the sports car said, “That’s amazing but what about that wooden leg, how did that happen?” The farmer said, “Let me tell you something else. Two years ago in the middle of the night when my family and I were sound asleep, our house caught fire. This pig charged right through the screen door, ran up the stairs and pulled the covers off of our beds. Our house burned to the ground but we all got out without a scratch and now we have a new house bigger and better than the old one. And we owe it all to this here pig.”

 

The man in the sports car said, “That’s fantastic but I have to know, about that wooden leg. How did that happen?” The farmer’s gaze dropped down to the ground and he shifted somewhat nervously from foot to foot. Finally, he said,” Mister, I don’t know where you’re from but in these here parts, a pig like this, you just don’t eat all at once.”

 

If that story didn’t make you smile even the tiniest bi,t at least on the inside, you’re probably my wife. If you’re saying to yourself that Popovich fellow up there is a heretic in the making, you might be Bishop Blair. If you’re just scratching your head and asking yourself what on earth this story could possibly have to do with why we’re here this morning, look around, you’re in good company.

 

But where does that leave me? In something of a hole, perhaps-questionable humor, scriptural distortion and general irrelevance. In my defense, the first time I heard that story about 30 years ago, I was a much younger and less mature man and I thought that story was the best and funniest I’d ever heard. I couldn’t wait to share it with my wife who was then my new bride and who to this very day sees nothing even remotely amusing about a story concerning a mutilated animal. But that didn’t stop me. I went right on telling it. Some five or ten years later, it occurred to me that maybe it’s not just a joke; perhaps, it’s a story with moral. I thought I had a pretty good grip on what the moral might be until two years ago. I was on a men’s retreat team at our Church and on Sunday afternoon when the retreat was almost over, it looked as though there would be an awkward lapse in the schedule. We needed to kill a few minutes to keep everything on track and someone said, “ Harvey, tell us a story.” So, Harvey told the only story he knows-in Church. Later that day on my way home, I was asking myself if that was really an appropriate story to tell in Church or anywhere else for that matter. And at that moment, the Holy Spirit pulled the chain in my brain and the light went on. After all those years of telling that story, I realized for the first time that it’s not a joke and that it’s not a story with a moral. It’s a parable. And in a moment more, it occurred to me that it was a perfect parable. So perfect, in fact, I wondered why Jesus didn’t tell it. And then I realized that he did. It’s in the book of Luke. Now I assure you, that if you open your Bibles to the gospel of Luke, you’ll find no mention of a pig with one wooden leg. You will, however, find a story with which most of you are familiar. It’s usually referred to as the Parable of the Prodigal Son. In that story, a well-to-do pig farmer has two sons. The younger son has had it up to his neck with life on the farm and caring for his father’s pigs. He longs for life in the fast lane with wine, women and song. So, he approaches his father and says, “Father, I would like my fair share of the inheritance-now.” Sounds like a seventeen-year-old with hormone issues. “Father, I want my fair share of everything you’ve worked for your whole life-now.” Kids, some things never change. So, as the parable goes, his father gave him his fair share of the inheritance and in no time at all, he lost it all.

 

Well, of course, in a parable, every character represents something else. In my story, there are three characters: the pig, the farmer and the man in the sports car. The way I see it, the pig represents gifts, graces and blessings from God. After all, he made that sodbuster of a farmer rich beyond his wildest dreams, he saved the farmer and his family from a horrific death and they even ended up with a new house. I have a pig named Wilbur and I’m not expecting anything more than some pork chops and bacon.

 

Well, then, who’s the farmer? The farmer is us. Because at its core, this is a story of industrial grade ingratitude and most of us have been there at one or more points in our lives. We’ve looked around and said, “Is that all there is, don’t I get more, where’s my fair share?”

Well, that just leaves one more character. Who was that man in the sports car, in that farmer’s face- asking, demanding to know what he had done with his gifts? Ladies and Gentleman, it was the same Man, the same Person, the same God who will one day be in each of our faces asking exactly the same question: “ What did you do with your gifts?”

 

 

It could be a very awkward moment. I wouldn’t want to see any of us in the position of the farmer-eyes downcast, shifting nervously from foot to foot and finally having nothing better to say in our own defense than we lost our gifts-but not all at one time. I would hate to see any of us in the position of the prodigal son who had no choice to admit that he had lost all of his gifts and he’d done in it record time.

 

We can do better than this. So, my gift to you this morning is a good answer to that question-what did you do with your gifts? I want to give you an answer that you can take to the bank, take to your grave, take to the gates of heaven.

 

Let us be able to stand upright. Let us be able to stand shoulder to shoulder and say that we worked hard to protect and defend all life from the instant of conception to the moment of natural death. Let us be able to say that we worked and prayed hard to save the souls of everyone who has ever been involved with or touched by the tragedy of abortion. And finally, let us be able to say that we worked hard to give back to the Father a fair share of the gifts he’s given to us.

 

You see, ultimately we’re not here to close places like Planned Parenthood and the Center for Choice. That’s a sweet thought but it’s small, short-sided thinking and we don’t worship a small, short-sided God. Let’s think big. Let’s think long-term. Let’s think someday about closing places like Heartbeat. Let’s think about making them unnecessary. Ultimately, it’s not about changing laws. As important, as crucially and critically important, as changing laws can be in the fight to protect and defend all life, it will never be enough. Ultimately, it has to be about changing hearts. And, ultimately, it’s not about making the tragedy of abortion illegal. It’s about making the killing of our own children, our own sons and daughters, what it should be. And what it should be is unthinkable.

 

The farmer in my story failed to grasp the concept of gratitude. But let’s give him credit for one thing. He had a point when he said, “I don’t know where you’re from, but in these parts you don’t do something like this all at once. Well the truth be told, I don’t know where the farmer is from; but you and I are from Heartbeat. I don’t imagine anyone in this room expects to do this all at once, but each of us believes we can you it all together. That’s why we’re here. This is who we are. This is what we do, and there is nothing in this morning’s program about ever giving up!

 

So, in the name of unborn children everywhere in this world, unborn children past, present and future, I’m asking you to think big, I’m asking you to think long-term and I’m asking you to give back to the Father a fair share of the gifts he’s given to you.

 

I recognize that I have taken certain liberties with scripture this morning. So, I think it best to leave you with something that’s straight from the book-the 95th Psalm: “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

 

Thank you and bless you everyone.

 

 

Harvey A. Popovich, M.D.

Medical Director, Heartbeat of Toledo

 

 

 

 

 

When I walked in things were already hoppin’. Volunteer Madonna was with her client and welcomed me in to the room after explaining to this couple it was my first night and I was new. The couple didn’t mind at all. They were very happy to be told that the pregnancy test was positive, but it was a little too early to do an ultrasound. I listened as Kathi (Heartbeat’s nurse manager) and Madonna spoke to the couple--all went well.

 

Our next client came in on time and it was my turn to be the advocate for this 25-year-old young woman who was pregnant and needed pregnancy verification to sign up for Medicaid. We filled out the paperwork, we obtained her specimen and we filled out more paperwork and she shared with us her concerns and how she heard about Heartbeat/Your First Look. A medical professional suggested she come to Heartbeat because we would be compassionate about her situation.

 

What a thrill we all had seeing her baby for the first time. And he/she was an active little one. Mom seemed genuinely thrilled and very patient with the entire process. We couldn’t believe our eyes seeing little arms and legs sticking out. Through this process we discovered she was further along in her pregnancy than what she thought. After the ultrasound we discussed where she could go from here. We discussed midwifery and doctors and clinics. I was so proud to tell this young mom that we also have parenting classes at our Heart to Heart Program. Yes, we are a “full service” organization! We want to be here for you and help you through your pregnancy and after. She has some issues she has to contend with concerning her pregnancy but I know she felt comforted as she left our clinic and she was glad she chose Your First Look.

 

As I left the clinic, (it was about 8:45 p.m.) I was so glad I spent my evening there. I was thinking of Heartbeat’s Mission that was written many, many years ago stating we are committed to promoting the well-being of young girls and women with emotional and personal problems relating to actual pregnancies through free, confidential, and compassionate services. And that’s what it’s all about.

 

Carol Clark, Heartbeat Volunteer