Saturday, August 20, 2011

The Stretching of Secret Sins

stretched 
1. Be made or be capable of being made longer or wider without tearing or breaking
2.Pull (something) tightly from one point to another or across a space
3.Last or cause to last longer than expected
4.Make great demands on the capacity or resources of
5.Cause (someone) to make maximum use of their talents or abilities
6.Adapt or extend the scope of (something) in a way that exceeds a reasonable or acceptable limit


         I sat there in the closet of my small apartment on the campus of Oklahoma Baptist University. My Senior year. Staring at a pile of socks...

        This part of my story is complicated to tell because some of it involves someone else' life. Their story. I will only share a part of it on here as I do not want to cause them any more pain or shame. I have been forgiven. Set free. But, it is part of me. A big part.

         In February of 1988, I found out that I was pregnant. My boyfriend and I were lost and confused. We sought the help of one person. On their advice, the pregnancy was terminated in March. Upon arriving back at my apartment, I went into my closet...sat down...and stared. I was numb. Somewhat dead. Having no idea what to do next. Waiting for feelings to flood in. My roomates knew something was wrong. But, I had no idea how to speak to what I had done. I eventually got up. And, much later, I did confess to my friend, Becky, as to what had happened. We sat in my car and the tears finally flowed.

          As I stated earlier, this part of my story is big. But, the bigger part is how my secret sins were already stretching. You see, I had been doing a very good job at covering up the ugly parts of my life. The consummate actress.

           Just four years earlier, on a drunken binge, I was raped by someone I knew. Because I was intoxicated, I felt that I somehow deserved this wretched thing that had happened. It was not a date. I did not like this person. It was in a park. Late at night. I had been drinking and passed out. Only to awaken to this. It was despicable. Disgusting. Something in me died that night. A switch flipped. And for a long time, I told no one.

          That Summer of 1984 I moved to the Winter Park, Colorado area and worked. In that time I began to be two people.
                                               "Christian Kari" and "Wild/Secretive Kari"
              
           During that time, almost immediately, I met a man who was in real estate. He wined and dined me . After work, I was with him...a lot ..I basically lived with him. I partied that Summer like never before. I was drinking away my disgust with myself. He even asked me to marry him. I did not accept.

           That Fall, I began my Freshman year at Oklahoma Baptist University. Ohhh, the irony! I twisted back into a different role, "Christian Kari", with uncanny ease. No one would truly know for years...

            My first few boyfriends were ministerial students. Ha! CrAzY! But, all the while, I felt dirty. Unworthy. There was no way that I could be a minister's wife! I began to cover lie upon lie. Never being true to anyone. Then, I fell in love hard. (Or, so I thought.) But, our choice to end the life of our baby reeked havoc on both of our souls. I fled to Colorado again that Summer of 1988. He followed. We changed nothing and resumed our unhealthy relationship. We eventually broke up. And,  within just a few months, I met and married Mark.

My new "part" began...

            As you have read about Mark, in his post last November, he is a good Christian man. He had saved himself for me. Never touched alcohol. A deacon. Honest. Humble. Hard-working. Kind. And, I did a pretty good job at looking the part of a good wife. While my "scripts" changed. And, the "character" was different. I still had the same sick, secretive heart.

           But, as they say in the, "Meeting Halls", "You are only as sick as your secrets". And, boy, did I have a lot of secrets! If you look again at the definition of "stretching", I had "stretched" them out too far. It would take years for me to "snap". But, it came. The flood gates of my sin rolled out. No more hiding. Face to face with the hurts of what was done to me. And, those things that I had done to myself.

            I did seek help with the depression, that did consume me, after the abortion. I am eternally grateful to Roxanna Grimes and Mary Beth Kissee. Without their help, I do not know what I would have done.

            I was encouraged to name my child. So I named her, Molly Sue. It has given me great comfort in naming her. Knowing that I will see her one day. She is with her brother, Benjamin James, whom we lost in 2003. I have helped a few women choose not to abort by sharing my story. There is comfort in that.

I would have a 23 year old this Fall.

           It does sadden me. I look at my beautiful children. I wonder what she would look like.  I was given, what I believe was a vision from God~One night, in deep anguish over my sin, I saw her. She was a toddler. In a ruffly dress. Being held by a beautiful, strong, yet gentle, Angel. The picture of this is etched in my mind.

I will never forget.
            
            Why I am sharing these things? Because my secret sins stretched me into someone that I did not know. In that moment on the dirt, I had been made to feel like a whore. And, in some ways...I became one. Living lie after lie after lie after lie... Even believing some of it. Living out loud like it was true......Yet, no!!! That is NOT who I am!  I have spent the last three years finding myself. And, with the grace of a Great God, the love of a wonderful man, the forgiveness of my precious kids, the comfort of godly parents, and the most incredible hearts of beautiful friends....I am finally being stretched into the woman that God created me to be.
 
                                      Mark, Kari, Jake, Zach, Luke and Lexi. Summer 2011


With tears in my eyes, I write...What a day to celebrate when all 8 of us will be together!
Until then, we are living for our Lord. Our Saviour. The Creator. And, our King. Hoping that this blog will be part of my fruit. If only one can be changed, helped, saved from the messes that I made....then, it was worth it.

Listen to this song. It is the song in my soul. It is why I always say, "It's not about me....It's ALL about Him!"
"Jesus, Lover of My Soul, It's Not about Me."/ Passion:

  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dD-ZdMOx_HY

Who needed this? I do not know. The letters, calls, and emails that I receive indicate that there is a need to get real. Get down to business. What is keeping you from being who you were created to be?....

God loves you no matter what! So.  Do.  I.
INAM!
Kari