Kelly’s Story:
I checked Caitlyn’s algebra test with the teacher’s book. Every answer was correct. Odd.
“Where’s your work to show for all the problems?” I asked.
“I did it,” she said. “It’s all in my notebook.” Her eyes darted across the dining room table. She was pretending to find proof that she hadn’t just copied down the answers.
“Caitlyn…” I wasn’t ready to accuse her of cheating just yet. “You keep looking. I’ll be right back.”
As I went into my bedroom, I could hear the boys sneering, “Heh heh, you’re in trouble now.”
Before we had adopted the kids, they had become savvy on how to lie, cheat and steal. Their mother was in and out of jail for drug dealing, and their drunk father was killed in a car accident. After the funeral, their Aunt Lena took them in. For the first time, they had more to eat than what the elementary school provided and clean clothes to wear when they walked to the bus stop. However, only months later, Aunt Lena’s health deteriorated, and the children were sent to foster care.
I knelt at the foot of my bed, praying for wisdom and the right words to say to Caitlyn. She was behind in school when she started living with us at age ten. Now, five years later, she was up to speed studying ninth grade curriculum.
Through the windows, I saw the top of my once favorite tree swaying against the darkening sky. It had been struck by lightning a few weeks earlier and was trying to hold on.
Lord, help me find out more about Caitlyn, I prayed. Why is she so sad? She had seemed depressed for a while now, and I didn’t understand why.
I came back through the living room. “Caitlyn, I know you couldn’t have possibly known all these answers to the math test without either working them out or cheating.” She locked eyes with mine as I continued. “Don’t you want to have done an honest day’s work? Don’t you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror and know you’ve done well?”
She looked down at the vent on the floor. “I can’t do that anyway.”
What did she mean? I told the boys to keep reading their history books as I took Caitlyn into my room. We sat on the bed and she looked at her hands. Her purple nail polish was halfway flaked off.
“Honey, I know something’s not right,” I said gently. “You’ve not been yourself. You don’t seem happy at all. What’s wrong?”
I looked at the black flowers drawn around her wrist. Silence.
“Caitlyn, you can trust me with whatever it is. I love you … God loves you. Tell me what’s going on.” Silence. “What is it? You can trust me.”
A plastic thumbtack held the month of December to the wall. Sunday, December 4, was circled for Caitlyn’s 15th birthday just a week ago. She scraped off the unwanted color from her thumb. I loved Caitlyn as my own daughter and swore to always be there for her. I placed my hands on her arms and started praying out loud.
“Lord Jesus, help relieve Caitlyn of whatever it is that’s making her sad. Help her to know I love her…that you love her…that she can trust me enough to tell me what’s in her heart.”
As I waited, the wind outside was picking up. The weather report had said a storm was coming. Lively branches from a lower tree were hitting against the window, somehow urging me to continue.
“I love you so much, Caitlyn. Please tell me. What’s going on?”
An impatient wooden finger scratched across the outside glass, as if saying, Come on. Time’s up. Caitlyn knew it. She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I know when I was younger it was rape, but now that I’m older…” She shook her head.
Rape? Sex? My darling girl having sex? Who? My heart broke as I hugged her. “Thank you for trusting me. I don’t love you any less. We’ll get through this…. but you have to tell me who it is.”
Retreating again, she had more purple polish to scrape off. I began to list all the boys I knew. Noisy branches tapped faster on the wet glass. Was she sneaking out at night through her bedroom window? When could this have happened? I listed neighbor kids. Their older brothers. Neighbors’ friends. Church kids by name. She shook her head at each accusation. And again, I waited. The wind plastered wet leaves against the window. I prayed again.
Wait for her answers, Momma, I told myself. Wait to hear her story.
Finally, she spoke, “It’s going to break up the family.”
As a downpour began outside, I felt my own flood inside. Was it one of the brothers who had teased her an hour ago?
“Jason?”
She shook her head.
“Philip?”
“NO!”
My list was exhausted. I was stumped. Sharp branches knocked wildly on the window behind us, making cracks in the glass and shaking the trailer walls.
Caitlyn looked past me toward the closet.
“It’s Dad.”
She quickly looked at me and then down. I felt as if a forest creature had snapped through the glass and lunged its claw through my chest. Fiery embers floated from Caitlyn’s eyes towards my own. My tongue felt hot and choking. I couldn’t swallow. I was speechless, breathless.
Then somehow, by God’s grace, I knew what to do.
I believed her.
Caitlyn’s beautiful blue eyes filled with water. I tried standing, but shock made it hard to breathe, hard to move. Caitlyn grabbed my arm, and we headed towards the boys in the next room.
Their beloved father…had done the unthinkable.
I motioned my sons out to the van. We drove to pick my younger two girls from school. I felt as if an evil forest creature were devouring me inside. No one spoke to each other during the 50–mile trip to our church.
I parked, and we ran through the rain into the church. We brought in wind, water and a storm that had only just begun. Familiar faces welcomed us. Their smiles turned to true concern as they saw our faces. The children’s minister took the kids into a large room.
The ground broke beneath me as I let go of Caitlyn’s hand and followed the pastor and his wife to a small room. Would my words pierce through their chests like Caitlyn’s words did to mine? I was hollow, but my body trembled. The pastor asked if I wanted to be the one to call Child Protective Services. I said I could. My shaky fingers dialed. The words burnt my throat.
Now the State of Texas was on my side for the heartbreaking battle ahead.
In the years to come, others would come alongside Caitlyn and help her return to faith in God. To return to His redemptive love that turns ashes into beauty.
Today Caitlyn has a devoted husband and three beautiful children. By God’s grace she has allowed His power to turn around the vicious forces that sought to keep her bound. She has claimed a new life of freedom and healing.
I, too, walked a long and difficult road to wholeness. On every step, God said to us both, “I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. You have not given me into the hands of the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place” (Psalms 31:7-8).
