I have never been more convinced that there are truly seasons of your faith than I am right now. My girls will laugh at me when they hear me say this, but it's true. It's something I tell others over and over again when they can't figure out why they feel so far away from God. Or why they feel like they suddenly can't hear him anymore.
Who moved? Me, or Him?---HINT: God never leaves....
I didn't see this one coming. Talk about being blind sided after being blind sided. I guess I never realized after everything happened, how angry and bitter I would be toward my own creator. I mean, I was mad. But I never saw me hitting rock bottom like this. It has been a crazy last 10 weeks. I have built beautiful relationships with some in my life, abandoned others, and burned some relationships to the ground. I have hurt people I could have loved forever. I have scarred someone and took something that I can never give back. I have loved someone and relied on them so much that it pushed them away.
But all these things are a direct response to one thing: I have been running hard and fast away from the only arms that will ever be able to hold me.
I guess this entry is more like a public apology. To just say that I am sorry that I have been so blind. It took the last people I had, leaving me to make me understand that maybe this isn't God. Maybe this time it's me. I have all the answers for my girls on Sundays and on Wednesday nights, but I forget that I can apply those truths to my own life. That love that I tell them about is actually free for me to receive as well.
I will continue to fail. I will stumble. I will fall. But the acting out? The blatant ignoring the voice of my Father? That is over.
I sit here and look back at the girl I let the rape turn me into, and try and see who God wants to make me, through it.
I tried to run, but He is still trying to make beautiful things out of the mess I've created.
So, if you're reading this, I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart. For the plans I've canceled, the love I've run out on, the burdens I put on you, for the recklessness, the desperateness, for abandoning all of you. I am putting that girl in a box on the highest shelf, and I will not get that box back down again.
Thank you for loving me through this. And for letting me find my own way out of this black hole. I'm just asking for a little patience and a little more love. I'll come out on the other side of this one. He is making sure of that. Stripping away everything that is taking my eyes off of Him.
"The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be silent." Exodus 14:14
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Full House, Full Heart
Tonight, I write this with my heart and my house full. Full of laughter, hope for the future and friendship. Full of some I have only just gotten to know, and full with others I have known since they were little ones.
Fellowship is such an important part of my life and I am learning it is a beautiful part of healing. Some people need to heal by being by themselves, or only with family. Part of this process of healing has been trying to learn HOW I heal. For a while I longed for a schedule that would just tell me what part of the process I was in and how long it was going to be till all of this was over and done with. I am learning now, that it will never be over and done. I will hold on to this hurt for the rest of my life. It will shape me and mold me, but the important thing is recognizing that I am in charge of HOW I let it shape and mold me.
Today I had the privilege of watching a 16 year old girl go off to prom. She is a girl who has come to be the little sister I never had. She is a beautiful, blonde, blue eyed, show choir loving, country music listening teen that has stolen my heart. Maybe because that description sounds awfully familiar? Maybe it is because I want to save her from my mistakes. I see so much of myself in her eyes. She has already been through so much in her short life. I have never felt that protective feeling over a "little sister" before. I never knew what it meant, and even resented it, when my parents said to me, "You just don't understand, it's different with a boy." They were right. I long to protect her in a way I never felt with my younger brother. I see so much of myself in her and I want more than anything to protect her from a night like I had.
Watching her go off to her prom with her friends, I was reminded about my prom. Who I was during that time in my life. Thankful I have beautiful memories and that I went with my best friend. But blown away with the memory of riding away to prom, thinking that I owned the world. That life, in that moment, was as good as I could have ever imagined it to be. I was so mature. So grown up. So ready for life. So only 17.
Looking at those gorgeous kids driving away, I knew that they were feeling those same feelings. They were on top of the world. It didn't get any better than it did tonight.
It is so cliche, but I look back on my 17 year old self and laugh at her. At how naive she was. How she thought the world was just going to be handed to her on a silver platter. That she was invincible. How funny to think that at 17 I was convinced I was ready to get out of the beautiful shelter my parents had built for me, get married to the love of my life, start a family. And that going to prom was just the beginning. I was ready. Because I was 17.
The fullness of my house tonight comes from 4 beautiful young ladies who are getting ready to step into different parts of their lives. Two who are about to graduate high school and step into the terrifying, real world of college. One who is starting her life over from scratch, praise God. And one who is just trying to muddle through the rest of high school so she can be a "grown up", something that just can't come soon enough. These girls have taught me so much in the 4 months that I have been back here in Indiana. They are just a few of the awesome women of God that I "lead" on Wednesday nights at Northside Baptist Church in a Jr./Sr. High small group. I have been so blessed by them.
My first blog entry came out of a conversation we had this past wednesday night, when I verbalized for the first time what had happened to me, to them. It was a beautiful moment of clarity and the Holy Spirit was so incredibly present. I knew walking out of our small group, and out of church that night, that I couldn't be silent any longer. Those girls had opened up their hearts to me and shown me the quiet corners of their souls. I needed to do the same. To show that there was trust and love within those 4 walls of that class room.
I know without a doubt that God makes beauty out of ashes. He makes beautiful things out of dust. He is making a beautiful thing out of my ashes. My ashes are coming back to Carmel, IN a place that I couldn't get out of quick enough. My ashes are all of my mistakes, double lives led, sins committed without a repenting heart. My ashes are being turned into beauty. He brought me back to be an example to these girls in their transition into womanhood. He led me through all of these things so that I could one day be a shoulder to cry on, not just because I cared, but because I understood and I have been there. So that I can see the signs when a wrong path is being walked down. So that I can be a vessel of the love our Father desires them to know.
My house will always be a place of safety for these kids. A place to come to when there is no where else to go but a party full of drinking and drugs and sex. A place to come when they have made mistakes and they don't think anyone else will ever understand. A place to come to pray, laugh and pray some more.
He is making beauty out of this. This is just one step. It is a beautiful one.
Fellowship is such an important part of my life and I am learning it is a beautiful part of healing. Some people need to heal by being by themselves, or only with family. Part of this process of healing has been trying to learn HOW I heal. For a while I longed for a schedule that would just tell me what part of the process I was in and how long it was going to be till all of this was over and done with. I am learning now, that it will never be over and done. I will hold on to this hurt for the rest of my life. It will shape me and mold me, but the important thing is recognizing that I am in charge of HOW I let it shape and mold me.
Today I had the privilege of watching a 16 year old girl go off to prom. She is a girl who has come to be the little sister I never had. She is a beautiful, blonde, blue eyed, show choir loving, country music listening teen that has stolen my heart. Maybe because that description sounds awfully familiar? Maybe it is because I want to save her from my mistakes. I see so much of myself in her eyes. She has already been through so much in her short life. I have never felt that protective feeling over a "little sister" before. I never knew what it meant, and even resented it, when my parents said to me, "You just don't understand, it's different with a boy." They were right. I long to protect her in a way I never felt with my younger brother. I see so much of myself in her and I want more than anything to protect her from a night like I had.
Watching her go off to her prom with her friends, I was reminded about my prom. Who I was during that time in my life. Thankful I have beautiful memories and that I went with my best friend. But blown away with the memory of riding away to prom, thinking that I owned the world. That life, in that moment, was as good as I could have ever imagined it to be. I was so mature. So grown up. So ready for life. So only 17.
Looking at those gorgeous kids driving away, I knew that they were feeling those same feelings. They were on top of the world. It didn't get any better than it did tonight.
It is so cliche, but I look back on my 17 year old self and laugh at her. At how naive she was. How she thought the world was just going to be handed to her on a silver platter. That she was invincible. How funny to think that at 17 I was convinced I was ready to get out of the beautiful shelter my parents had built for me, get married to the love of my life, start a family. And that going to prom was just the beginning. I was ready. Because I was 17.
The fullness of my house tonight comes from 4 beautiful young ladies who are getting ready to step into different parts of their lives. Two who are about to graduate high school and step into the terrifying, real world of college. One who is starting her life over from scratch, praise God. And one who is just trying to muddle through the rest of high school so she can be a "grown up", something that just can't come soon enough. These girls have taught me so much in the 4 months that I have been back here in Indiana. They are just a few of the awesome women of God that I "lead" on Wednesday nights at Northside Baptist Church in a Jr./Sr. High small group. I have been so blessed by them.
My first blog entry came out of a conversation we had this past wednesday night, when I verbalized for the first time what had happened to me, to them. It was a beautiful moment of clarity and the Holy Spirit was so incredibly present. I knew walking out of our small group, and out of church that night, that I couldn't be silent any longer. Those girls had opened up their hearts to me and shown me the quiet corners of their souls. I needed to do the same. To show that there was trust and love within those 4 walls of that class room.
I know without a doubt that God makes beauty out of ashes. He makes beautiful things out of dust. He is making a beautiful thing out of my ashes. My ashes are coming back to Carmel, IN a place that I couldn't get out of quick enough. My ashes are all of my mistakes, double lives led, sins committed without a repenting heart. My ashes are being turned into beauty. He brought me back to be an example to these girls in their transition into womanhood. He led me through all of these things so that I could one day be a shoulder to cry on, not just because I cared, but because I understood and I have been there. So that I can see the signs when a wrong path is being walked down. So that I can be a vessel of the love our Father desires them to know.
My house will always be a place of safety for these kids. A place to come to when there is no where else to go but a party full of drinking and drugs and sex. A place to come when they have made mistakes and they don't think anyone else will ever understand. A place to come to pray, laugh and pray some more.
He is making beauty out of this. This is just one step. It is a beautiful one.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
He's Not Finished With Me Yet
Well, to say that I am taken a back by the outpouring of love I have experience in the last 24 hours would be an understatement.
I just want to say thank you.
The point of the previous post was not to seek attention to my self, plead for love from an ex-boyfriend (who I am not in love with anymore but care for deeply in the beautiful friendship we now have) , or cause any negative thoughts.
I just thought, and I stand by it, that I needed to stop being silent. It has been very hard to answer the question, "What brings you back to old Indiana after living the life of your dreams in New York City??!!", with out hesitation and a fake smile. My biggest fear in all this is telling people what happened and then burdening them with it. Like I have just verbally thrown up on them and they feel like they can't do anything about it.
I just was to start a period where my life is transparent. I want to live out loud. I want to be allowed to have bad days when I just can't do anything but get on my knees and cry to my Father. I want to be allowed to have amazing days worshiping our Lord. But when I screw up or something awful happens, I want that to also be apart of the transparency.
Thank you all for letting me do this. I think it is going to be an integral part in healing.
One of my sweet second Moms, Terrrrrsa David, shared a verse with me tonight that comforted me so much, and comforts me still.
Zephaniah 3:17 says, "For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With His love, He will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."
Another version she read me said, "He will quiet you with His love..." in my fears and my craziness, there is a peace that is found only in One. The One who will "quiet me with His love. He will calm all of my fears" "He is a MIGHTY SAVIOR."
It's a beautiful thing, really. I know that the evil of man created the situation that I was in, but I know God was watching. For a while I was so angry. If He was watching, why the H*** couldn't this God of the entire UNIVERSE stop this from happening??
I was skype-ing with my rock of a cousin/sister, Morgan, about three weeks after. It was the first time I had ever not told her anything so holding this back form her for was eating me alive. I finally told her and through the tears, on both ends, we started talking about God's role in this.
She kept repeating, "I am so glad you are here. I am so thankful to God for this. He saved you Katie. He DID intercede. He saved you. You are alive."
I don't think that even now, I am fulling grasping that. He did intercede. He did. Not in the way I may have wanted, not in MY plan, but He did. And He did NOT cause this, but man is he using it for HIS glory. I have never been closer to my Jesus in all my life. And trust me, this is not the way I saw my faith going. I was convinced that it was over. Jesus and I were breaking up and I was done.
But then things started to fall into place....slowly.
God is sovereign. God is just. God is peaceful. God is love. God is wrath. God is jealous. God is beauty. God is. And I have never believed more that I am where I am supposed to be. Good old Carmel, Indiana. Working with amazing kids every day. Praising Him with them and learning how to be a leader for Him. I am growing in more ways than one. And to fully transform from my self centered days, that lead me to a self seeking life in a big city to fulfill my plan, into a submissive, knees to the floor in prayer, true worshiper.
He is making beautiful things out of this. I trust that. He is not finished with me yet.
I just want to say thank you.
The point of the previous post was not to seek attention to my self, plead for love from an ex-boyfriend (who I am not in love with anymore but care for deeply in the beautiful friendship we now have) , or cause any negative thoughts.
I just thought, and I stand by it, that I needed to stop being silent. It has been very hard to answer the question, "What brings you back to old Indiana after living the life of your dreams in New York City??!!", with out hesitation and a fake smile. My biggest fear in all this is telling people what happened and then burdening them with it. Like I have just verbally thrown up on them and they feel like they can't do anything about it.
I just was to start a period where my life is transparent. I want to live out loud. I want to be allowed to have bad days when I just can't do anything but get on my knees and cry to my Father. I want to be allowed to have amazing days worshiping our Lord. But when I screw up or something awful happens, I want that to also be apart of the transparency.
Thank you all for letting me do this. I think it is going to be an integral part in healing.
One of my sweet second Moms, Terrrrrsa David, shared a verse with me tonight that comforted me so much, and comforts me still.
Zephaniah 3:17 says, "For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With His love, He will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."
Another version she read me said, "He will quiet you with His love..." in my fears and my craziness, there is a peace that is found only in One. The One who will "quiet me with His love. He will calm all of my fears" "He is a MIGHTY SAVIOR."
It's a beautiful thing, really. I know that the evil of man created the situation that I was in, but I know God was watching. For a while I was so angry. If He was watching, why the H*** couldn't this God of the entire UNIVERSE stop this from happening??
I was skype-ing with my rock of a cousin/sister, Morgan, about three weeks after. It was the first time I had ever not told her anything so holding this back form her for was eating me alive. I finally told her and through the tears, on both ends, we started talking about God's role in this.
She kept repeating, "I am so glad you are here. I am so thankful to God for this. He saved you Katie. He DID intercede. He saved you. You are alive."
I don't think that even now, I am fulling grasping that. He did intercede. He did. Not in the way I may have wanted, not in MY plan, but He did. And He did NOT cause this, but man is he using it for HIS glory. I have never been closer to my Jesus in all my life. And trust me, this is not the way I saw my faith going. I was convinced that it was over. Jesus and I were breaking up and I was done.
But then things started to fall into place....slowly.
God is sovereign. God is just. God is peaceful. God is love. God is wrath. God is jealous. God is beauty. God is. And I have never believed more that I am where I am supposed to be. Good old Carmel, Indiana. Working with amazing kids every day. Praising Him with them and learning how to be a leader for Him. I am growing in more ways than one. And to fully transform from my self centered days, that lead me to a self seeking life in a big city to fulfill my plan, into a submissive, knees to the floor in prayer, true worshiper.
He is making beautiful things out of this. I trust that. He is not finished with me yet.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
The Truth
So the cab pulls up to my apartment building. Time to go home. I reach to get my wallet to pay my fee. I hand my money to the driver and begin to open the door. At this time the driver raises a gun (which I later learn was a 7mm hang gun) over his head and says, "No, no baby, you get back in or this goes off."
Forgive me, there are blank spots in my memory and a time when I completely blacked out of it all.
I sit back in my seat, trying to quietly find my phone and dial 911 but I couldn't find it. As I am doing this 2 other men are approaching the car. They lead down into the drivers window to talk but they are all talking in some king of different language, not english, not spanish.
Then suddenly one of them gets in the back seat with me and one of them gets into the passenger seat with the driver. The driver hands the gun to the passenger and the passenger tosses it over to the man sitting far too close to me. I still can't figure out why I don't remember saying anything. Not one word. I was hyperventilating and crying but no words.
The man now sharing the backseat with me has the gun pointed right at my left temple. I hear a click. I don't know if that means the bullet has loaded into the chamber or if he just locked it but I know a click means something. He asks if I am wearing any pants under my work clothes. I say yes. At this time the passanger gets out of the car and then gets back in the car, only this time he is also in the back seat.
They trade off putting the gun near my ear and on my temple and under my chin. They make me put it inside my mouth. They ask if I ever want to see my family again. They ask if I have a father. I say yes. The ask if I thought my father would really care if he never saw me again. They asked if I had a boyfriend and I said no. They said, "Well after we get done with you no one will ever want you again, you know that honey?"
They then took off my pants, all with the gun still being pointed and pressed up against different parts of my face and neck and head.
Then....they took their turns. One holding me in a choke hold with the gun to my temple while the other forced himself on me. Then they switched.
All the time talking about how I would never see my parents again.
This is about the time I stop paying attention. I start praying. I am saying my last and final pleas to Jesus. Not that He would save me, but that it would be over quick. That I wouldn't look to disfigured when my family had to come identify my body. I prayed Morgan wouldn't hurt too badly.
I prayed that maybe Tyler really did know how much I loved him.
I prayed that my mom would find that strength to survive this.
I prayed that my dad would be the rock my family would need, but also let them heal him.
I prayed that they would all forgive me.
I prayed that he would somehow know that in that moment, what I thought was my dying moment, I just wished he could have been the one holding me.
And then I felt the shock of pavement as my head slammed into the curb, chipping my tooth.
They had dumped me. They let me go. I wasn't shot. I regain a little as I hear, "We'll be back! We know where you live and we like what you have" driving away down Amsterdam Ave.
After that is is a black blur. I know that someone found me stumbling around looking for my keys and was trying to get into an apartment that wasn't mine. She sat me down on the curb. It was then I realized that the cab must have been moving while everything was happening because we were not in front of my apartment building any longer. We were in front of Columbia hospital, in my neighborhood.
The next thing I remember is being in an ambulance yelling at the drivers and those who were just trying to help me, that they couldn't touch me and that I wanted to go home and that they were breaking the law by touching me and forcing me to be there with them.
Of course, I say nothing in the taxi, but for the people who try to help me I have plenty to say. First impression was not so great.
After spending the next 29 hours in the hospital, full of r*** kits, texts, peeing in numerous cups, I finally was released. I walked home in the snow with one of my sweet friends Ashley who sacrificed her day to sit with me waiting till they would let me go home.
I get home and my parents are there waiting for me and it is the most amazing feeling to see your family after you had just said goodbye to them forever.
That first hug I got from my dad has me bawling right now.....The place I fit just under his chin on his shoulder. I though that place was gone for good. I had said goodbye to that place. But just like that, I had it back.
This is ALOT I know, but this story needs to be told. All of these stories need to be told. There is no sense in the silent. If I fear then they win, that's true. But if I never speak of it again and hide it to myself forever, they will win forever.
More to come...and I promise they won't be graphic like this. Just had to get this out and have no shame doing it
xoxoxo KW
Forgive me, there are blank spots in my memory and a time when I completely blacked out of it all.
I sit back in my seat, trying to quietly find my phone and dial 911 but I couldn't find it. As I am doing this 2 other men are approaching the car. They lead down into the drivers window to talk but they are all talking in some king of different language, not english, not spanish.
Then suddenly one of them gets in the back seat with me and one of them gets into the passenger seat with the driver. The driver hands the gun to the passenger and the passenger tosses it over to the man sitting far too close to me. I still can't figure out why I don't remember saying anything. Not one word. I was hyperventilating and crying but no words.
The man now sharing the backseat with me has the gun pointed right at my left temple. I hear a click. I don't know if that means the bullet has loaded into the chamber or if he just locked it but I know a click means something. He asks if I am wearing any pants under my work clothes. I say yes. At this time the passanger gets out of the car and then gets back in the car, only this time he is also in the back seat.
They trade off putting the gun near my ear and on my temple and under my chin. They make me put it inside my mouth. They ask if I ever want to see my family again. They ask if I have a father. I say yes. The ask if I thought my father would really care if he never saw me again. They asked if I had a boyfriend and I said no. They said, "Well after we get done with you no one will ever want you again, you know that honey?"
They then took off my pants, all with the gun still being pointed and pressed up against different parts of my face and neck and head.
Then....they took their turns. One holding me in a choke hold with the gun to my temple while the other forced himself on me. Then they switched.
All the time talking about how I would never see my parents again.
This is about the time I stop paying attention. I start praying. I am saying my last and final pleas to Jesus. Not that He would save me, but that it would be over quick. That I wouldn't look to disfigured when my family had to come identify my body. I prayed Morgan wouldn't hurt too badly.
I prayed that maybe Tyler really did know how much I loved him.
I prayed that my mom would find that strength to survive this.
I prayed that my dad would be the rock my family would need, but also let them heal him.
I prayed that they would all forgive me.
I prayed that he would somehow know that in that moment, what I thought was my dying moment, I just wished he could have been the one holding me.
And then I felt the shock of pavement as my head slammed into the curb, chipping my tooth.
They had dumped me. They let me go. I wasn't shot. I regain a little as I hear, "We'll be back! We know where you live and we like what you have" driving away down Amsterdam Ave.
After that is is a black blur. I know that someone found me stumbling around looking for my keys and was trying to get into an apartment that wasn't mine. She sat me down on the curb. It was then I realized that the cab must have been moving while everything was happening because we were not in front of my apartment building any longer. We were in front of Columbia hospital, in my neighborhood.
The next thing I remember is being in an ambulance yelling at the drivers and those who were just trying to help me, that they couldn't touch me and that I wanted to go home and that they were breaking the law by touching me and forcing me to be there with them.
Of course, I say nothing in the taxi, but for the people who try to help me I have plenty to say. First impression was not so great.
After spending the next 29 hours in the hospital, full of r*** kits, texts, peeing in numerous cups, I finally was released. I walked home in the snow with one of my sweet friends Ashley who sacrificed her day to sit with me waiting till they would let me go home.
I get home and my parents are there waiting for me and it is the most amazing feeling to see your family after you had just said goodbye to them forever.
That first hug I got from my dad has me bawling right now.....The place I fit just under his chin on his shoulder. I though that place was gone for good. I had said goodbye to that place. But just like that, I had it back.
This is ALOT I know, but this story needs to be told. All of these stories need to be told. There is no sense in the silent. If I fear then they win, that's true. But if I never speak of it again and hide it to myself forever, they will win forever.
More to come...and I promise they won't be graphic like this. Just had to get this out and have no shame doing it
xoxoxo KW
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