My Testimony: Part 1

Let me start this off by saying I'm the least perfect person you'll ever meet. If, you've indeed met me.

But, for real.

I'm a BIG FAT SINNER.

Do I think I'm better than you? Nope.

Do I think my sins are less than yours? Nope.

Now, in my head I may think "Sure, I don't kill people or do awful, awful things..."

But, I'm a sinner anyway you cut it.

Being a Christian is hard.

It doesn't make life easier and if anything it isolates you from the world.

I am not one of those Christians that can spout off Bible verses when I get flustered or angry, or in a debate.

Instead, I get flustered, angry and RETREAT.

My testimony is something I haven't shared with many--in fact, I still am not ready to share it totally.

I feel God is still molding me...

but I'll share a bit.

In short, 

I was raised in a Godly-home.

I was raised by two parents that made sure I was in church on Sundays and Wednesdays. My mom taught Kindergarten at the church so I was really at the church nearly 6 days a week.  I was in every church activity that I could possibly be in, GAs, Choir, Sunday school, you name it.

And, like the good Christian girl handbook says---I became a Christian at a young age in VBS. I loved my preacher and thought of him as a grandfather figure....

My church was my second home.

Now, that's about where my perfect life stops...because, well--I ain't perfect.

Not only am I sinner by nature, but I was born with rebellious bone. 

I was the black sheep of the family....and being sneaky was half the fun.

To say that I was a bit wild, is an understatement.  

I was wild--and I made very few apologies than.

And if I could go back and talk to THAT Halley--I would of slapped her a few times--made her put on some decent clothes and tell her to forget about BOYS until you're out of college. 

I am not making excuses for myself....

and to be honest, I don't know why I did MOST of things I did.

I knew better.

I really did.

But, I still CHOSE to do wrong.

I now apologize to my parents...because, goodness they had a lot to deal with.

ANYWAY---things in Atlanta were not easy.

I mean, they were easy in a sense....but I felt like I had to deal with some 'adult-situations' in my early life.

My Dad was accused of doing something awful to a co-worker.

She made an AWFUL and horrible accusation against him because my Dad caught her and two other employees stealing from him.

They had been embezzling from my dad for years---and they had stolen thousands upon thousands of dollars from him and hiding it.  

They were successful because one of the ladies in charge of the stealing was also in charge of the books, transactions and accounts in the office. 

She had started off small enough at first, but over the years she began getting brave and stealing more and more.

And, they also blind-sided my dad because he is a caring and a laid back man. He trusted them. 

The woman who was doing the most stealing, was refereed to me and my brother as Aunt Sally**.  

To us, she was like family. 

We never thought she would be lying not only to us but to all the patients that came and saw my father.

And who would ever think that their 'Aunt' would steal from them so blindly?

**names have been changed.

My dad eventually figured things out and when he confronted them, one of the women made this claim, in order to hurt him and deflect what they were doing.

But, people didn't know that. 

They just listened to the sensational part of it.

A dentist, this doctor, a DEACON IN THE CHURCH, a husband and a father---r*ped this woman.

(I hate the 'R' word. It pains me to type it)

I had to live in this fish-bowl of a town with rumors circulating about my father.

A man that I knew didn't do this.

My dad, the man who would give his life for me, his wife and my brothers.

A man who spent his every free weekend devoted to softball tournaments and baseball games...

This same man who was a Sunday school teacher for years and years,

This man who cried when I was born,

This same man who cried when he watched his own father succumb and die to cancer.

My father was now accused of one of the worst crimes that a person can commit against another person, besides murder.

He had to prove to everyone else he was innocent by going to court. 

Not only that, but he had to fight for his medical license in court as well.

Going to court took years and lots of money to lawyers.

I was in high school and having to live with very mean people that said cruel and untrue things to me about my dad. I mean, isn't high school drama hard enough?

I'll never forget the time I sat in Geometry class.

I was trying my best to understand what Mr. Dillinger was talking about in his lesson....I was never good at Geometry.  My world forever changed when one of the older classmates turned to say something to me.

It was like in the movies, the whole class got quiet when she turned from the front of the class and looked back at me and said, 

"I had an appointment with your dad--but my mom canceled it when we heard he raped children."

(Stories in small towns is like playing 'Telephone' )

I felt like every eyeball was on me in that moment. 

This uncontrollable heat rising from my chest, neck and face. 

I wanted to explode. 
To punch her. To kick her. To scream. 

TO TELL HER, "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND YOU IDIOT!? YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT MY FATHER?!"

This pain hit me in the heart and stomach. I felt the heat radiating from my body...I was left, shaking, sick and utterly speechless.

Still to this day, that girl--makes me mad.

She said it so casually, 
like "I hear we are having pizza in the cafeteria today."

She didn't realize how her words stung me. Burning their cruelty in my heart and soul.

People hurt people.

I wish I could say I was blameless from then on out.

However, I went on to hurt others. 
In fact, I think because I hurt---I hurt others even easier.
I had become cold in the heart, learning that perhaps that's the best way to be. 
If I had no feelings, no emotions--then I wouldn't get hurt. 

I was just like that girl, not thinking about what my words and actions could do to someone else.

Of course, my father went to court and he was proven innocent on all accounts.

The rape kit that the woman had sent off was staged and faked by her and her boyfriend. The others involved in the stealing also admitted to their wrong doings.

But, the damage had been done.

Pain, horrible pain---had been had.

Life did go on...and things got better, no doubt.

But, I was changed.

I changed because I realized you can't trust others.

I also learned who were true friends....

and who would leave you when life got tough.

But, that's life.

And life continued to have it's ups and downs....

--until next time,
hk