Words For Katie

NOTE: Today's story is more than just a story. It is something I actually experienced as a teenager. I don't have any daughters, however, so I wrote it to use in the 7th grade health class I teach. I just shared it with the girls yesterday, along with a lesson on sexual abuse. If you are interested in printing a copy of this story to share with someone you love, you can find it here: Words For Katie




What do you see, Katie? Can you see Miller’s Dairy Farm and the old country school? Have you ever been higher on a swing? I came to this park every evening when I was your age to swing, dream, and pray about my future. I especially hoped for a daughter someday. And God is so amazing! He gave me you.

The summer I was sixteen, on an evening just like this one, I was leaning back in that very swing, legs extended, my long hair flowing behind me.

“Hey! I thought that might be you!” The sudden interruption surprised and annoyed me, but I dragged my feet and stopped regardless. I didn’t know much about Kent except that he was twenty-one and a new Christian. He had attended our Bible study a few times, although he lived in a town some distance away.

“Hey, yourself! What are you doing in Podunks-ville?” I asked

“I think God wants me to do some witnessing. He brought Liz Harney to mind. Don’t you know her sister?”

“Shelby and I are on the same cheerleading squad,” I answered.

“Have you ever witnessed to her?”

“She knows I’m a Christian. We’ve talked about it some.”

“Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“Let’s you and me go witness to Liz and Shelby. What do you say?”

That’s how I ended up in Kent’s car, heading out of town toward the Harneys’. Slowly it occurred to me that I hadn’t told anyone where I was going, and I was barefoot. “Oh well,” I thought, “It’s for a good cause.” Besides, it was kind of exciting.

The further we drove, the less talkative Kent became. As he turned onto the river road, darkness enclosed us. It was still several miles to the Harneys’.

As I considered those facts, Kent pulled the car to a stop and switched off the headlights. “Wha…” I began, but he had already grasped my arm and was pulling me toward himself. “Kent, I thought…” He covered my mouth with his and groped, tearing my shirt as I writhed and pushed against him.

Breaking free, my hear pounding, I slid toward the passenger door and swung it open over the steep, overgrown slope leading to the river. “Please, God, rescue me!” I prayed.

When I hesitated, Kent grabbed my wrist. “Don’t.” he said evenly.

“No! YOU don’t!” I shouted, breaking into sobs. “I want to go home!”

God answered my pleas for help. Kent re-started the car, turned around, and headed back toward town. I kept my back to him with my hand on the door handle, prepared to leap if he so much as made a wrong turn. Before he came to a complete stop at the end of my driveway, I bolted and never looked back. It was the last time I ever saw him.

Inside my bedroom I fell to my knees, thankful to be alive. But I also felt ashamed, stupid, and no longer safe. It was many years before I told anyone about that night.

Oh Katie, I hope I haven’t frightened you. You are so full of dreams and eager to experience life, just as I was on that long-ago summer evening. Would I deny you the freedom you have so responsibly earned? Not for anything. But I had to share my experience with you in hopes that you might learn from it. These are the things I hope you will remember:

Nearly every person who is sexually assaulted knows their abuser.

Most abusers use deception and enticement rather than force to get close to their victim.

It is often the violation of trust, even more than physical injury that causes long-lasting emotional pain.

A person who is sexually assaulted is in no way to blame for it.

It is still assault, even if the person doesn’t say ‘no’ or fight back.

A survivor of sexual assault may wait a long time before talking about the incident. They may be embarrassed, ashamed, fearful of their assailant, afraid of not being believed, or simply eager to forget it. Eventually, though, talking about the assault helps with the healing.

I hope that something like this never happens to you. Oh, how I wish that I could protect you every minute of your life. But that would be like making you sit on that swing, yet never allowing you to experience the joy of swinging. So hold on, Katie, I’m giving you a great big underdog push, but I’ll be here if you ever need me.






Julie Arduini is hosting Fiction Friday today at The Surrendered Scribe.

Can God Use Me If I Fail?

“God’s promises are never affected by our failures. He can use us at any age.”
~Michael Youssef from Leading the Way.

How thankful I am that God’s promises are not affected in any way by human beings! Even those among us with the best intentions have failed at some time or another to carry out our responsibilities or to keep our promises. God’s promises have no power whatsoever apart from the truth of who He is. It is solely because I can count on God that I can count on His promises. Of course the reverse is true, as well. If I have a difficult time believing God’s promises, it simply means that I haven’t yet come to know Him fully; for if I knew Him, I could never doubt Him.

“Thus says the lord, ‘Let not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not the mighty man boast of his might, let not a rich man boast of his riches; but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the Lord who exercises lovingkindness (covenant love), justice, and righteousness on earth; for I delight in these things,’ declares the Lord.” Jeremiah 9:23-24 (NASV)

I, on the other hand, am human, and therefore flawed. I may carry with me a certain amount of credibility, based on my reputation, but even if my character were absolutely pure (which, I assure you, it is not), there are many things in this world that are beyond my control. My body may break down, the bank may fold, my support system may fall apart... any one of these things could cause me to fail. Nothing, however, is beyond God’s control, which is exactly why He is unaffected by our failures.

“To be used of God, to sing, to speak, to pray
To be used of God, to show someone the way
I long so much to feel the touch of His consuming fire
To be used of God is my desire.” ~Audrey Mieir

I remember singing this chorus as I was growing up in the church. The lyrics are inspiring, to be sure, but so easy to misunderstand or misapply. For years I sang these words with the inaccurate understanding that being used by God would confirm my worth. I truly believed that if God used me in some significant way, I would then be assured that I had arrived at my spiritual destination. While others may believe the same thing, this couldn’t be further from the truth.

My confusion over this belief began as I started realizing that God uses flawed people...sometimes deeply flawed people, for His purposes. This revelation rocked and challenged my faith.

As I have shared previously, my father molested me and my three sisters as we were growing up in our Christian home (see “Thanksgiving for Dreadful Deeds”). In many other ways, however, my father was an example of a good Christian. He knew the Bible well, taught Sunday school classes, and even preached at times. He raised vegetables and generously shared his crops with others. He wrote inspirational poetry. Many have told me how blessed they were by my father, and how much he taught them about Jesus.

For quite some time it upset me terribly knowing that my father had a positive impact on others for Jesus Christ. I also wondered if perhaps it was wrong for me to be honest about what had happened in our home, thinking that it might discourage those he had impacted from walking with Christ. However, as I have grown in my knowledge of God, I have come to know Him as a God of both truth and grace. Nothing is hidden from His eyes, and we are to live our lives transparently, as well. Neither is anyone exempt from his pure, undiluted grace. The more undeserving we are, the more perfect His grace appears. The fact that God used my flawed father in the lives of others simply confirms God’s greatness in using any of us despite our weaknesses.

In the lives of biblical saints who were used by God, we find many failures and character flaws as well. Moses, Jonah, and David all struggled against their human tendencies, and even caved to temptation at times. Peter was as unreliable as they come. Still, God used all of them mightily. If I am still tempted to elevate these servants in importance simply because God chose to use them, I only need to consider Balaam’s donkey, which possessed no sparkling spiritual tendencies, but was used, nevertheless.

Being used by God is a powerful and awe-inspiring experience, to be sure. But in light of God’s character, I am immediately humbled upon realizing that He has chosen to use me for a particular task. I am overwhelmed by His grace, and I am also charged with responsibility. It sends me to my knees, asking God to make me aware of my frailty so that I will lean more fully on Him. Instead of being proud, as I once imagined I would be, I tremble, praising Him for His grace.

Yes, God chooses to do most of His work on this earth through people (not to mention the occasional donkey). He can and does use people of any age, and even those of us who have failed, but that is due entirely to His character, not mine.



I am participating in the Tuesday meme, In Other Words, hosted today by Karen at In Love W.I.T.H. Jesus. Please visit her blog for links to more discussion on the above quote.

Thanksgiving For Dreadful Deeds

Internet Cafe Chat
by Sharlyn Guthrie
My father was an elementary principal. He faithfully attended church, taught Sunday school, and even preached on occasion. He provided well for our family. I always had adequate shelter, good food, and comfortable clothing. My parents paid for music lessons, allowed me to go to church camp, and at times sent me to private school.

My father molested me…not once, but continually. As I grew older I resisted and pushed him away; I was disgusted, but quite honestly it was just the way life was, so I guess I thought of it as normal. He didn’t stop trying to molest me until after I left home.

I began to see my family life as less than ideal, so as an adolescent I began to make a mental list of things I didn’t want to repeat in my own life. In some ways I was mature beyond my years. I grew into a close dependence on my Heavenly Father. In other ways I was lacking, particularly when it came to setting personal boundaries. I was also a people pleaser and a terrible communicator. Oh, I liked to talk! But I buried my feelings and hid behind my Christianity, just like my parents did.

As you might guess, I was quite vulnerable as a teenager. Discussing sex at home was taboo. My parents had rules, but the rules seemed more effective in protecting their image than protecting me. Besides, I was already ruined, and I was pretty sure it had to be my fault. Somehow, by God’s grace –and I REALLY mean that— I got through my teen years without being raped or worse, although I was victimized by other family and non-family members.

My story has had many twists and turns, but I’ll suffice it here to say that I married a “prince” of a man and I’m living happily ever after. God is so good!

Just a few of the things that have been a struggle in my life are these: feeling worthy, feeling forgiven, feeling nothing, enjoying sex with my husband (initially), facing the reality of my father’s incestuous advances, confronting my father, exposing a family legacy of lies, forgiving my father, losing my relationship with a sister, honoring a father who was less than honorable…the list goes on.

Can you thank me for trusting you with this experience even if I never tell you why? ~God

This was the question I struggled with most. One by one I worked through the other issues over months and years. Just when I would think an issue was solved, it would bare its fangs, mocking me. None of it happens over night, even with Jesus. I wouldn’t want to go through it without Him, it’s true. But healing takes time, and it’s hard!

When my father passed away seven years ago I finally felt the freedom to begin talking about this aspect of my life, partly to aid in my own healing, and partly to reach out to others dealing with similar experiences. It has helped to answer the question.

I will always wonder why I wound up with an earthly father who didn’t know how to love. But I have never once doubted the love of my Heavenly Father. Still, am I thankful?

I was fifty years old and had experienced yet another excruciatingly painful event before I was able to say, “Thank you, God, for giving me the father you did. Thank you for allowing me to feel the pain his unwanted advances inflicted. It drew me to You in ways nothing else could. It gave me empathy for the pain of others. It made me a better parent. It made me see the reality of my own sinfulness and my need for Your forgiveness. It taught me to be loving and forgiving. From dreadful deeds, you have produced beautiful fruit. You are a God to be praised!”

"I waited patiently for the Lord, he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock, and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord." Psalm 40:1-3