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The Untold Story: Yours and Mine

A glint of gold caught my eye, something shiny tucked down in the shag carpet of our guest room-slash-office. Aha! A thin necklace belonging to our oldest daughter (the married one), proof that for several days prior our house had twittered with the happy bedlam of an extended-family visit . . .

Days sprinkled with the babbles and cries of our twenty-month-old granddaughter, Livi. Meals and messes made. A goofy role-playing murder-mystery toga party that carried on until 2:30 a.m.; by then, none of us cared who had committed the crime. And by the way, it’s remarkable how pompous men can become when draped in nothing but an old sheet. 🙂  All surrounded one central event, the main reason for their visit: our youngest daughter’s high school graduation.

The road leading to this milestone was no red velvet cake-walk, let me tell you. So the celebration was real. I once wrote about feeling tempted to despair, but otherwise I haven’t yet said much about those dark days and the horrors we thought might never end. Whether or not she graduated on time became the least of our worries as her illness, which affected her mentally, frightened the bejeebees out of us for over two years.

I wrote a commentary about how this experience changed my perspective on everyday achievements we take for granted–like graduations. It appeared last week in our hometown newspaper. It’s the most personal, most transparent article I’ve ever had published, and I want to share it with you. For some of you parents, this might be your untold story. You see, we’ll never hear from you to know.

You’re too busy being a hero to someone.

Since the article went public, I’ve received some warm-and-fuzzy emails from neighbors and strangers. None touched me more than a note from a mom raising five kids, two of them autistic. She said, “I’ve never spoke of these feelings to anyone but there they all were written in your article.” Yeah, I cried.

You can read the article here.

Is this your story too? If so, have you seen how, in God’s hands, your adversity can become his art? Not yet? Hang in there, friend; it’s coming. You may not feel like it; you probably feel more like a forgotten slip of a necklace crushed into the carpet, with a monstrous vacuum varooming toward you. But you are not invisible. You’re golden. A masterpiece in the works. You are not invisible. You're golden. A masterpiece in the works. Click To Tweet

Anyway, now that all the merrymaking in honor of our daughter’s healing + graduation has passed, Livi’s toys sit silent again, awaiting her return like Woody waited for Andy in Toy Story. And I realize I’m painfully behind schedule on several fronts. Most pressing is an inspirational book I’m editing, a project that now consumes my every waking moment–except when I stop to gather snacks, of course (send Ginger Chews!).

{Confession: I’m singularly focused to a fault. If you live in my house when I’m under deadline, you’d better have a car and an ATM and know how to drive to the market, or you. will. starve.}

But what I’m actually doing right this moment, in writing this, is jumping off the conveyor belt of my life to throw heavenward another broken hallelujah. Thank you, Father, for healing my girl. And now that she’s better, I praise you that I’m able to fill my hands with productive work. May I be an instrument of your peace.

Again, here’s the link to the article. Thanks for reading! I’ve prayed for you today!

Livi says “Hallelujah, my auntie is healed! And she has a diploma to boot.”


Often I link up with other blogging communities. Today I want to point you to Holley Gerth. If you haven’t happened upon her writing yet, you’re in for a treat.

Also, I always love to hear from you. Please scroll down to leave a comment. Oh! And if you like reading Another Broken Hallelujah, you can subscribe by email below and receive regular updates straight to your inbox!

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4 Responses to The Untold Story: Yours and Mine

  1. Rick Spillman 06/17/2017 at 8:50 am #

    Kit, great blog and amazing, insightful article. It’s a story I can relate to from the other side. My mother trafficked me through most of my childhood. The fact that I survived, I’m told by my therapists, is a miracle. I should have ended up on drugs (never even tempted) or ended my life (sorry to say tempted). I didn’t because God protected me, you see He had a plan. I did pay a price – most of my childhood locked away in forgotten memories that will stay there, years of therapy, struggles at the brink of death. But all the while, God was there. And he has redeemed the experience. Giving me the grace to survive and have a relatively successful life might be enough but He had other grander plans. I often can tell when someone has been sexually abused as a child. In those instances, and there have been many of them, when a door opens for me to one-on-one share my story with a victim the most frequent response I get is tears and a “I’ve never told anyone this but …” Somehow, much to my continuing surprise, God uses me to unblock lives that have struggled under the weight of an often, unspoken horror. Those are the times I glimpse a purpose in suffering, I find redemption for pain. Given the chance to do it all over again would I choose this path? No. Do I thank God for the experience when He uses me to help others? Yes. Therein lies the paradox of suffering. One that I can’t unravel but one that I have found peace living with. So I applaud you for sharing another redemptive story. We can’t hear enough of them. Rick

    • Kit 06/19/2017 at 11:47 am #

      Wow, Rick, your story . . . so poignant. I agree, we need to hear stories of redemption. Thank you for sharing yours. Anne Lamott said, “God doesn’t give us answers. God gives us grace and mercy.” We can (tearfully) celebrate that!

  2. Vicki Nelson 06/16/2017 at 7:51 am #

    Thank you for this beautiful article. It made me cry. There is beauty in every flaw of our lives. It’s there for a reason-I truly believe that. God turned something horrible into something amazing for you, your daughter, and your family. Really, for everyone.

    • Kit 06/16/2017 at 10:28 am #

      Vicki, yes! There’s growth–painful beautiful growth–when we walk through hard times alongside the master gardener. Every time we get to see a wrong made right or any kind of healing, we should cherish and celebrate it–togas optional 🙂 Maybe it’s a peek into what heaven will be. Thanks for reading!

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