From Marching for Life to Standing for Lives
- Lilith Quill
- Oct 23
- 2 min read
When I was a kid, I marched in small-town Arkansas — a child with a “Right to Life” sign in hand, standing shoulder to shoulder with people who told me what to believe and who to fear. We’d gather after church, smiling for Jesus while condemning strangers. I looked it up recently — the March for Life is still going strong. Nineteen rallies this year alone. The machine didn’t go away; it just got slicker, louder, and meaner.
Here’s the part that sticks in my throat: the same people who once paraded down Main Street for “life” now sneer at anyone marching for justice, for equality, for the right to exist without being crushed by their version of morality. They forget the First Amendment they love to quote protects all of us — not just those marching under a cross.
I’ve stood at protests in Arkansas and Colorado since then — against Trump’s first term, against local KKK chapters. The scorn wasn’t subtle. “What’s the point?” people asked. “You’re not changing anything.”And yet — here we are, still showing up. Because silence changes even less.
Now the hate is louder. The “No Kings” protests hit a nerve so deep it sent the whole MAGA machine into meltdown. They called us Antifa, traitors, jobless nobodies. They mocked us from podiums and pulpits alike. Funny how the ones shouting “freedom” are terrified when the rest of us use ours.
Some say I’ve changed. They’re half right. That obedient church girl who marched to defend unborn lives grew up to defend the living ones — the brown neighbor dragged into an unmarked van, the gay friend shamed by her pastor, the woman making the impossible choice because no one helped her before it came to that. I’m still standing for the “least of these.” I just finally figured out who that really means.
Fear doesn’t work anymore. We’ve seen too much. We’re done hiding behind hymns and hashtags. We’re standing — hand in hand with the people you turned away.
And if you still call yourself a follower of Christ while sitting it out — ask yourself what gospel you’re preaching. Because if your faith doesn’t move your feet toward the hurting, it’s not faith. It’s theater.
So, stop marching for control and start showing up for compassion.The world doesn’t need more slogans about life. It needs proof you believe in it.
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