I've known for many months that my testimony of faith would appear in a published book, and I've seen electronic copies of the book cover and table of contents. But to see the finished product in front of my eyes, to feel its weight in my hands, is as surreal as anything I've experienced.
It's interesting how insight comes at inconvenient times. Since submitting my story for consideration over a year ago, I've gain greater understanding into my crisis of faith. I realize now that it really wasn't about being raped. It was about the fear of dying alone and scared. I felt that I was going to die at the hands of someone who insisted that God didn't exist. The precipitation event is different for everyone, but the crisis is the same for us all. When faced with death, what do we trust is on the other side? Of all the muck I had to sift through to get where I am, that was the one question I was left with, that we are all left with. Do I trust that Jesus is who he says he is? How I answer that question dictates how I approach death, and how I approach life.
I don't think it's all coincidental that my work puts me in contact with rape victims, that my volunteer endeavors put in touch with the dying, and that my one published piece of writing addresses faith. I chose all of these things, but it was God who laid the opportunities at my feet. It was God who created the talents and desires I possess. Isn't that alone reason enough to trust? If God used my rape to nudge me in the direction I've come, and I'm better for it, then how can I be anything but grateful?
Today, I celebrate the milestone I've achieved with this book and what it represents. Tomorrow, it will be on to something new and glorious (I hope).