How to Become Invisible: Join Your Local Abolitionist Society

When I was a boy, I dreamt about being invisible. How fun it would be! I read books about it, watched movies where the unseen hero snuck past enemies, and imagined all the possibilities. I never guessed that there really is a way to become invisible.

Let me explain how.

It all started when I took the gospel to the streets. At first, I was beginning to fade—not because I wanted to, but because people simply ignored me. They would walk by as if I didn’t exist, as if my voice wasn’t even reaching their ears. It was strange. Preaching about sin, repentance, and salvation made me less than a shadow to them.

But then, something changed.

I began to confront the specific evil of our time—legalized child sacrifice. I called out abortion for what it is: murder. I held signs. I named sin. I pleaded with people to turn from their complicity in this holocaust. And that’s when I realized—I had found the key to invisibility.

Suddenly, I was truly gone.

Churchgoers who used to politely nod as they walked by now looked straight through me, as if I had vanished into thin air. Pastors who once shook my hand now hurried past with their heads down, pretending I wasn’t there. Friends who had once been eager to discuss theology stopped returning my calls.

It was as if I had stepped into a new realm—one where I could speak, shout, and plead, yet remain completely unseen.

But every now and then, the invisibility cloak fails—and when it does, it fails spectacularly.

Once in a while, someone notices me. And they hate it.

They unleash a barrage of curses, spew every blasphemy imaginable, and throw out more F-bombs than a Tarantino movie. They scream in my face, spit on me, rip up literature, and call me every name except “child of God.”

On rare occasions, the Lord sends along a different kind of visitor—one who seems out of place amid the hostility. A stranger who quietly encourages me. A passerby who stops to say, “Thank you for what you’re doing.” Someone who listens, who asks questions, who maybe even joins the fight.

And sometimes, I wonder—was that one of the angels mentioned in Hebrews 13?

Going invisible has its price.

Sometimes, the effect completely wears off—and when it does, you are no longer ignored.

You are mocked. Ridiculed. Lied about. Dragged through the mud in church gossip circles. You are slandered as a hateful person, a legalist, a troublemaker, a radical. You may even be arrested, attacked, or killed.

So, if you want to become invisible—if even for a while—join the Connecticut Foundation to Abolish Abortion or your local abolitionist society in your state. If there isn’t one, start one.

Come stand where few are willing to stand. Come speak what few are willing to say. Come disappear into the background of a world that refuses to see the genocide happening in broad daylight.

But be warned: sooner or later, they will see you. And when they do, they will hate you for it.

If that still sounds like something you’re willing to do, then go to www.AbolishAbortionCT.org, sign the Norman, Oklahoma Statement, and take your place in the fight.

Because whether seen or unseen, the truth must be spoken.