Katie Williams: My Testimony

The following isn’t based on a true story. It wasn’t inspired by a magazine article or a Hollywood movie. Rather, this piece is an abbreviated account of a true story. My story, as a matter-of -fact. I hope those who read this composition learn from it and recognize that God exists, His love can reach you in the darkest of places, and your life will be transformed if you just believe...no matter how weak your faith. Because belief in the truth will set you free. After all, I would know.....:

I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death and I have feared evil. My young mind was mutilated with half-digested memories which couldn’t be told yet were too agonizing to keep secret. Maybe it is a small spell of selective amnesia that I’m experiencing or maybe it is the fear of judgement that keeps me silent. Either way, it is excessively humiliating to repeatedly endure the crude combination of distaste and pity which lingers far too long in the eyes of people who think they know and understand. I’am not a statistic if I don’t tell and I’m not exposed to the crushing attitudes of people who never quite seem to look at me the same once they know; however, it is not so important where I came from or what happened to me. What is significant is where I’am today and how I got here.

Ahhh... testimony. This simple noun oozes excitement and foreboding. I picture the word as the key to my own little Pandora’s box. It is almost irresistibly tempting to open yet I know what shall be released will never again be sealed and safe. I’am not troubled that some mythological imps are going to burst forth from my little box. The truths that will be set free are the things which have me thinking twice. Despite all of my worries and regardless of the shame that will be revealed, my tale is one that is accompanied by mercy and redemption:

Memories of my childhood are brief but poignant. Games of Cops and Robbers are overshadowed by fuzzy still images and the muffled audio of my mother sobbing as a lavish shade of crimson seeps through delicate cupped hands resting against her mouth. I grew up hiding in closets and crouching behind the living room furniture. Though my family was not religious, Sundays were faithfully observed as "quite days" which mustn’t be disturbed by the chimes of a child’s folly. Picture me, an awkward ten-year-old clutching a miniature stainless steel cross, pleading to a God that I didn’t know but had heard rumors of. Rumors of a powerful God who could surely stop all this madness; however, my hell was just beginning.

Almost as quickly as the seasons of this world fade and transition, the seasons of my life began to follow suit. I went from playing with dollies to unscrewing the tops off of chilly liquor bottles. Inhaling relief from my asthma medication gave way to choking on the burning fumes of a crusty pot pipe. My dabbling in drugs and alcohol ended rather swiftly- neither of these experiments brought me the satisfaction I yearned for and the answers I craved to obtain. It is difficult to remember how everything was back then and exactly how I felt. The enveloping pain which once handicapped me has been replaced with a tranquility that has cooled the sting of those memories. Memories from a time when I was lost in a place where I was blinded by a raging monsoon of debauchery and hollowness. I passed my days barricaded in my room and lying lifeless upon my bed. Anguish paralyzed my body and exhaustion slowed my breath. School appearances occurred about twice every two weeks or so...just enough to ensure that I attended summer school for only one course.

The stale air of my bedroom dehydrated me but that did not matter because my body had let go. Only for fleeting moments, seconds maybe, could I beseech God to simply end my misery. Did I really believe in God at that time ? Probably not... but even the most dedicated atheist prays to God in times of distress and danger. You see, in a matter of weeks my world had come undone. Just a few months shy of my fourteenth birthday my parents separated. But all is not always well that ends well. Granted, I was elated that their relationship had ended but I was saddened by the things that had been and the possibilities that never would be. There had been tender moments in between the violence and truthfully, I have never felt so safe with someone so dangerous. Anger and hurt marred my once blissfully ignorant demeanor. I was angry that I still needed a father and that my mother had plummeted into a near irretrievable abyss of self-worship. I also was hurt that I had lost the only daddy that I had ever known and that I had ascended to the role of my mother’s parent.

Months turned into years and insomnia reduced me to a comatose awareness of the turbulent civil war inside my mind. Taunting voices and earnest whispers dashed me back and forth between self-annihilation and a frail desire to live...but not like this. Not numb and void-unable to smile and unable to cry. With the fierce blade of a butcher knife in one hand and a remote control in the other, I casually flipped through television programs as I summoned up the determination to thrust the knife into my throat or chest...

Apparently the major television stations prefer to place preachers on T.V. during the primitive hours before the dusty morning twilight; however, I’am not complaining. Just as quickly as my tool of death slipped from my young and feeble hands, I had glided from the verge of suicide to the promise of life and deliverance. My eyes began to burn and a salty warm pool began to coast down my pale cheeks and collect at my mouth....

All that occurred back then seem like the echoes of phantoms and the broken remnants of fairy tales, all of which were conjured up in the girlish mind of an imaginative child. But my life has never been a fairy tale and I’am still occasionally haunted by the ghosts of a past that I cannot wish away. But I have learned that the God I now serve can shine light into this haunted house that I presently inhabit. He can illuminate the dark crevices and chase away the monsters that hide in my mind’s closets and underneath its furnishings. My history is now HIS-story. My past belongs to a God who seems too far away to grasp yet is so much closer to me when I call Him Father. He is the Father of children abused, loved, and forgotten. Those who grow up hiding in closets and those who fall asleep to the lullabies of a doting mother. Each and every one. While people argue about the distorted adult they see before them, He sees the child that should have been left alone and nourished. A child so precious to Him that all of heaven rejoices when the little pitter-patter of tiny feet approaches His throne and raises hands in submission and longing. A Father eager to enfold His children in His arms until the tears cease to flow and the nightmares subside. I have been cradled in the arms of my Father and soothed by the rocking of His tender embrace. I was once torn by the perception that I had lost the only father that I had ever known and that I had been abandoned by a mother I so desperately wanted. But time is the invention of God and time has taught me a valuable lesson. I was not left as an orphan and my Daddy has been here all along. And He will never go away....

-Katie

A prayer...

Lord, Increase our faith. Increase our capacity to believe and to trust. Help us not to be comfortable with where we are, but desire and hunger to be pushed away from our comfort zone. You are the only one that truly matters in this Life. You are the Life Giver oh, Lord! Speak to our hearts, and help us to listen. Show us where you want us to go. We desire your will Lord. As we begin to see and understand it, give us the strength to follow, and to be willing to go wherever you call. Even to death oh Lord! You said that who ever will come after you, they must deny themselves, take up the cross daily, and follow you. Let that be true in our lives! We love you so much, Lord, and desire to be consumed by you. We give you all the praise and the glory Lord.

In Jesus Name, AMEN!


In Him,
Luke

Lifes Contemplations

Some things are just too good to keep to ourselves. And sometimes God reveals things to us, not for our sake, but for the sake of another. This page is for whatever it is that God has put on your heart - testimonies, thoughts on life, songs, prayers, etc. Have a seat...take a breath...and brace yourself. God is truly amazing!

If you have anything you would like posted here, please send it my way. My email is: luke-underwood@lycos.com

Forever in Him,
Luke