I tell my story for God’s honor and glory to share His work of hope and healing in my life, so that others may know His grace, mercy, and salvation…

 

I stood there, a little girl in a woman’s body. It had taken years to finally stand up and tell someone. It took years to get past the shame and begin to share.

That day I had the courage to stand in front of hundreds of kids and their parents to encourage them to do their best at whatever they wanted to accomplish. I told of my faith in God and him getting me through tough situations.  Yet, how could I tell them and not fully trust it myself. How could I let years of fear keep me from doing what I felt God wanted me to do.

Today, I would tell. Today, I would not let the opportunity pass by. I would stop at the police station on my way out of town and get it over with. I would set foot in a place I had passed almost weekly throughout my life. I had seen the outside, but never had the courage to venture in.

I drive to the police station and end up at the wrong side of the building. I get back in my car and drive to the other end of the building. I walk through the doors to a wide-open space with a glassed-in receptionist area against the back wall and a big open desk area to the back right wall.

I approach the receptionist I see behind the glass.

“Ma’am’, where do I go to complete a police report?”

She points to the officer sitting at the open desk area behind me.

I turn to see a big black man in his late 40’s sitting behind a three sided desk unit that bumps up against a wall of window to the outside. I walk to the front on one side of the desk.

He asks me how he could help me. I tell him I’m interested in filing a police report.

He asks what type. I feel a lump in my throat and my body begins to warm. I tell him I would like to give a police report about being sexually abused as a child.

I said it.

He looked at me and said, “Why don’t I have you step over here and have a seat”. He motioned towards the backside of his desk to a chair.

I sit and look around at the open space of the front entry to the police station where people wait. I’m in the open. I feel nervous, exposed, yet a weird kind of assurance.

I sit. The big police officer grabs a blank police report. He leans forward and begins kindly asking me a few questions. Name, address, phone number, birthday…”When was the date of this incident?” He asks and fills in the blanks on the police report…

I felt like a little girl. As I looked at the police officer, I was reminded of the illustration of God in the book The Shack. The police officer’s response was kind and caring. It put me at peace. I knew God was with me in that moment. I knew that He had provided an officer that would help me tell my story.

I was a little girl lost and afraid, but ready to tell her story.

He continued with the questioning…”First and last name of your perpetrator?”… My Story, Part 2- A New Day

 

 

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (ESV)