I want to tell you how God works in my life. I’ve mentioned in some of my posts that I was sexually abused as a child. The first time was the summer between 2nd and 3rd grade at the hands of an older neighbor boy. I estimate he was in high school, but I don’t know that for certain. I do know that I was playing under the big tree with my little friend. She is about four and a half years younger than me so I assume she was four or five years old when this incident happened.

The boy lured us into a garage under the pretense of looking at toys. When he molested me, I was confused and frightened and stood very still…hoping he would go away. But when he went after my friend, my maternal instinct kicked in and I grabbed her and ran before he could touch her. I haven’t seen her since she was a senior in high school but I’ve thought of her often. I’ve always wondered if she had any memory of that day. I’ve wondered if she was frightened or if…God forbid…he had cornered her another time when I wasn’t with her to protect her.

I pray all the time, but my prayers aren’t always out loud. Most often, my prayers are my thoughts as I communicate with God during the day. For some reason, this incident has been on my mind a lot this summer…probably because my youngest grandchild reminds me so much of myself at her age and she isn’t much older than I was that fateful summer day. So, I’ve silently asked God many times in the last few months to let my path cross that of my friend.

Saturday night I was at my high school reunion and a couple was seated at my table. The man had graduated with me but I didn’t know him in high school and had never met him. Yet, here he was…at my table. There are no accidents. His wife was seated opposite me and I asked her if she went to our high school. She said yes, but she didn’t graduate till ’75. A chill went up my spine. I asked her if she knew my friend. With a look of surprise, she said “OMGosh! I just saw her this evening!” No doubt. I asked if she could get a message to her that I needed to speak to her. She sent a text and I waited.

Monday night, the phone rang out at the farm and…it was my long lost childhood friend. I did not want to come right out of the chute and ask her about that day in the garage so we spent the better part of two hours catching up and asking about each other’s families and what we had been doing the last forty years. It was so good to hear her voice. As the conversation began to wind down and we had made promises to get together soon for lunch, I felt the time was right to ask her. I was so relieved to hear she had no memory of that day and there had never been an incident afterwards. As we continued to work through who lived in the neighborhood and who that boy could have been she said, “You know…there was this one house near the alley that I was absolutely forbidden from ever going near.”

When my friend’s mother had taken her into the house that day, she sent me on my way with a warning to never to speak of that again to anyone…so I didn’t tell my own mother till I was 35. It took me a while to realize this woman was merely a product of the times. This happened in the very early ’60s…the Camelot years. You never spoke of child abuse back then as it was shameful. She wasn’t being mean and I don’t place any blame on her. But, just knowing she kept my friend away from that house on the alley let me know she heard me. And…even more importantly…she believed me. I wasn’t the “bad girl” I thought I was at the time. I never had been.

And, that is the gift God gave me on a Monday night on a quiet farm in West Virginia…after the rain.

❤️

“For the word of the Lord is right and true; he is faithful in all he does. The Lord loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love.”

Psalm 33:4-5 NIV