Words

by Ginny L. Yttrup

  When I reach the front door and open it, Pete thrusts a bouquet of red roses toward me. Under his arm he holds a box wrapped in pink paper.

  "Flowers for Kaylee?"

  "Uh, no . . . they're . . ."

  At Pete's uncharacteristic stammer, I look up—and see what I think is a blush color his features.

  He clears his throat and begins again. "They're for you."

  "Oh . . . um . . . thank you." I hold the bouquet to my nose and breathe deep, letting the scent of the roses and pine in the bouquet wash over me. And taking the moment to hide my own blush.

  "Come in." I take the wrapped box from Pete and place it on the coffee table with the other gifts for Kaylee, then head to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. "Have a seat." I motion to a chair at the kitchen table and turn to look for a vase.

  "Sierra . . ."

  The depth of his voice, his serious tone, cause me to turn back to him. He's still standing. He's followed me into the kitchen rather than sitting at the table where we have our usual meetings.

  "Kathryn released Kaylee for adoption today." He pauses, waiting for a response. "Sierra? Did you hear me?"

  I heard him, but I can't seem to process his words. They hold too much meaning, too much potential—too much hope. And what about Kaylee? What will this news do to her? How will she feel, in years to come, knowing her mother not only abandoned her, but even gave up her rights to her?

  As Pete's news sinks in, emotions swell like a tidal wave—hope, fear, joy, concern, wonder, and then rage.

  "Ah . . . right on cue." He smiles.

  "What?"

  "The fire in your eyes."

  "Pete! This isn't funny! You mean to tell me after all she's put her through—the abuse, the lies, the fight to get her back. After we . . . after . . ." My words come through a choke of anger and tears. "After we made her talk about . . . about . . . After we had her testify. After all that, her mother's just giving her up? She's just walking away?! How can she—"

  Pete reaches out and puts his hand on my arm. "Sierra, listen. Kathryn was arrested today. Charged with child endangerment, among other things. A direct result of Kaylee's testimony. She knows she has a long road ahead of her. Prison, likely. And her own continued recovery. She's letting Kaylee go for Kaylee's sake. It may be the one positive parenting decision she's made in Kaylee's life. I believe it was a decision made out of Kathryn's love for her daughter. She's requesting an open adoption. She hopes to remain a part of Kaylee's life, if Kaylee wants that."

  Pete reaches for the bouquet I'm still holding, takes it from me, and places it on the counter. Then he puts both hands on my arms. "Sierra, the door to adopt Kaylee just swung wide open and I want you to consider walking through it. I want you to think about adopting her."

  My breath catches as hope soars. But dare I hope for so much?

  "Pete, what will this do to her? It's just one more strike against her—the knowledge that her mother willingly gave her up."

  "It may wound her."

  His statement is matter of fact, but his tone and expression are laced with compassion. I am taken again by the depth of his care for the kids he works with—his care for Kaylee. This isn't just a job to him.

  "But potentially she will be stronger because of it. Adversity, brokenness, suffering—these things strengthen us if we allow them to, and they make our hearts tender toward others who suffer. I can't think of anyone better suited to live that example for Kaylee than you, Sierra. Or to live that example for Kathryn. You're the perfect person to be in both their lives. This is where God's placed you. I hope you will think about—pray about—adopting Kaylee."

  "Of course. I just . . . I mean . . . I just can't believe it. Oh Pete, you know how much I love her. I want what's best for her. I don't need to think about it. God's placed me in Kaylee's life. I just never thought . . . I didn't expect so much."

  "You're best for her. I believe that, Sierra. She needs you." Pete's hands still hold onto me. Linger there. His eyes hold mine and when he leans toward me for just a moment I think, I hope . . . but then he pulls away and guides me to the table. "Here, have a seat. I need to tell you one more thing."

  I sit down and look up at Pete, who is still standing. He shifts from one foot to the other and then clears his throat. "Uh . . . I—"

  "If you have something to say, you'll have to sit. I can't see you from down here." I realize how much I want him next to me.

  "Oh, right." He turns to pull out a chair and takes the seat next to me. As he looks at me, I notice his jaw clenching and unclenching.

  "Pete, what is it? What's wrong?"

  "Nothing's wrong. I just need you to know something . . . I . . . uh . . . yesterday, I resigned my position with CWS. I gave six weeks' notice."

  "What? Why? How will I . . . I mean . . . how will we . . ." The thought of losing Pete, not having him to walk this journey with me, with Kaylee, pierces my soul.

  "Don't worry, another social worker will be assigned to your case."

  I shake my head. Why hadn't I simply listened? Pete always listened to me, I should have done the same for him. I wave my hand—trying, really, to wave away the feelings surging within. "No, I know. That's fine. I'm just wondering about you. What led to your decision? Are you okay?"

  Pete runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. "It's something I've thought about for a couple of years, actually. I want to begin my own practice, to hang up my shingle, as they say." He hesitates. "And I guess I've finally found a good reason to make the change."

  "Really, what would motivate a change like that?" I watch him smile and again I think I see the beginnings of a blush. He shrugs his shoulders.

  "A woman, of course." He chuckles. "I think I've finally found the one. But there's a conflict of interest . . . she's someone I work with."

  I look down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes lest he see the crushing disappointment I feel. "I see. Well, congratu—" I stop when I feel his hand cup my chin. He raises my face until our eyes meet. The tenderness I see in his eyes is almost my undoing.

  "No, actually, I don't think you do see. It's you, Sierra. You're the one."

  "Oh . . ."

  He leans in again, and this time, the brush of his lips against mine renders me speechless. When he settles back, his laughter fills my kitchen. "Not exactly the response I was looking for. Should I rescind my resignation?" The ease of his shoulders and the smile on his face let me know he's teasing. He's read my face—the love I can no longer conceal.

  Before I have a chance to respond, Kaylee comes around the corner. "Hi, Pete."

  Pete reaches for my hand and holds it tight. "Hey, missy. How's the birthday girl?"

  Then I hear a knock on the door and soon the bungalow is filled with voices and laughter and music. Kaylee's favorite bell songs ring throughout the bungalow.

  Eventually we gather around the table in the living room—Ruby and Michael, Mother and Daddy, who flew in last night, Pete, Kaylee, and myself. The room is lit by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree in the corner and the crackling fire in the fireplace. Warmth and love circle the table.

  "Daddy, will you say grace?"

  "You bet." He holds out his hands and we all reach for the hands of the person next to us. I hold Kaylee's little hand in my right hand, and my left hand is enwrapped in the warmth of Pete's grasp. Just before I bow my head, I glance at the picture hanging above the mantle—the abstract of Kaylee's redwood that I finished this fall. I look around the table and see a family circle—my family circle. Our roots are intertwined, supporting one another. Whatever comes in the days, weeks, years ahead, none of us stands alone—we are connected—living and thriving together.

  As my daddy prays, I think back to the morning of the day I first met Kaylee—the anniversary of Annie's d
eath. I think of my journal and the snippets of feelings I'd recorded there. I'd so suppressed my emotions—so afraid to feel the pain of loss and my own mistakes. But in so doing I'd also missed the love and grace those who loved me wished to impart. And I'd missed the merciful love of my heavenly Father.

  Kaylee, I realize, was God's healing balm for my suffering soul. Through her He showed me the truth of Himself, His unconditional love and forgiveness. Christ is my Savior, but He used Kaylee to save me. To show me the extent of His mercy and grace.

  And He's used me to save her. To rescue her from a prison of silence and shame. She will have much to deal with in the years to come, but He's given me the privilege of showing her His love, His protection, and His providence.

  Unabashed tears slip down my cheeks as I'm humbled before Him. Just before my daddy says, "Amen," I offer my own silent words of gratitude.

  Thank You. Oh, thank You so much . . .

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Kaylee

  I've put new words in my box this year. Words like truth and sacrifice and grace. They aren't hard words, but they're important words.

  Actually, they're imperative.

  Grace is something you don't deserve, like a gold star on a math paper that has all the wrong answers. Or like going to see my mom in jail and hearing her say, even after I'd told the truth about her, "I love you, Kaylee. I'm so sorry for everything I put you through. Someday I hope you can forgive me."

  Grace is also the love of Jesus, who died for us when we didn't deserve it. That's also the definition of sacrifice. I had to make a sacrifice too. I had to tell the truth about my mom. And about him. The truth was a sacrifice because it meant I had to let go of my mom, at least for now. But I did it because she needed my help and that was the only way I could really help her.

  Sometimes keeping a secret seems like the right thing to do because telling the truth might hurt someone and make it seem like you don't love them. But really, telling the truth is the right thing to do. It's the most loving thing to do. I learned that this year. Just like I learned that when you do that, then you can let the Truth, Jesus, work out the details.

  He's really good at that.

  The other word I've added to my box this year is love. The dictionary defines love like this: love—1. a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. That's like Pete and Sierra. Or 2. a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend. That's like me and Sierra.

  But really, love is more than that. It's when Van's fur tickles my face and makes me giggle. Or it's when Sierra lets me climb in bed with her in the mornings, even before it's light outside. It's when Pete sits at the kitchen table and helps me with my math homework, even when I don't want to do it. Or when he helps me work through my feelings, which sometimes I don't want to do either. It's when Ruby invites me over to her studio, and lets me play with her clay, and then shows me how to make something out of it. It's when Dr. Beth asks me hard questions and is patient when I can't find the words to answer her. Love is when my new friend, Sarah, let me wear her cute new sweater to Sunday school and didn't even tell anyone it was hers!

  Love is just a word until you put actions to it. The actions make the word true. It's John 1:1: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." Pete finally explained that verse to me. Jesus is the Word—the most important word. When God sent Jesus to Earth as a baby, that was God's expression of His love. That was the action that made His love true.

  "For God so loved the world, He gave His only begotten Son."

  He gave His Word.

  I used to collect words because I thought they could protect me. And they did, in a way. They gave me something to focus on so I didn't have to focus on what was happening to me. I see now that my box of words in my mind was a gift from God, wrapped in pretty flowered paper, meant to comfort me when things were hard.

  But the words couldn't save me.

  The words were superfluous.

  Only the Word could save me and set me free.

  And He did.

  Dear Reader,

  Kaylee's story is my story. It's also the story of one in four women who are sexually abused before they reach the age of eighteen. For just a moment, count off. Think of your friends, coworkers, family members—how many women do you know? One quarter of those women have likely suffered the indignity of sexual abuse. You may not know who they are—survivors are adept secret keepers—but they're in your life and they're in desperate need of the gracious love of Jesus Christ, experienced through you.

  Or maybe Kaylee's story is also your story. Like my own story, the setting and circumstances differ, but we're a sisterhood woven together by a thread of shame. Please know that it's you I prayed for as I wrote—though I didn't know your name or your face. I do know a bit of your pain, and I asked for God's tender embrace as you read. And I continue to pray that, like Kaylee, you'll allow the truth to set you free.

  Ultimately Words is a story of the redemptive work of the Word, Jesus Christ. Sierra represents each of us—she is a sinner in need of salvation. Whether your sin is drug abuse or doubt, promiscuity or pride, you're a sinner in need of a Savior. But not only does Jesus Christ offer us salvation and the hope of eternity spent in His presence, He also offers us redemption here on Earth. In Words Christ redeemed Sierra's pain—the loss of her baby and the shame of her drug abuse—by bringing Kaylee into her life.

  Christ is also redeeming the pain of my past. I, like Kaylee, found comfort in words as a child. As soon as I could read, I escaped the pain of abuse by losing myself in stories. I had no idea then that God would one day use my written stories for His glory or the pain I suffered to help comfort others.

  God promises to "cause all things to work together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose" (Rom. 8:28). God takes our shame—whether suffered through the sins of others upon us or through our own sin—and He uses it for good. Think about that . . . Isn't it awe-inspiring? Not only has God defeated the enemy for all time, but He defeats him moment by moment in each of our lives when we surrender ourselves to His redemptive work.

  For additional information about God's redemptive work and to find resources for abuse survivors, please visit my website: www.ginnyyttrup.com. While you're there, drop me a note. I'd love to hear from you.

  Blessings,

  Ginny

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. As with Kaylee, victims of childhood sexual abuse often lose their “voice.” What types of circumstances silence you? How do you gain the courage to speak up when you’d rather remain quiet?

  2. Kaylee attempts to be invisible to her abuser by not speaking. Have circumstances in your life ever made you wish you were invisible? How did you deal with that?

  3. Kaylee finds comfort in the words she reads in the dictionary. Who or what do you turn to for comfort?

  4. Read the following verses. What do they say to us about the source of our comfort? (see Psalm 119:50; Isaiah 5:12; 2 Corinthians 1:3–4)

  5. Sierra expresses her emotions through art. How do you express difficult emotions?

  6. Sierra struggles to accept God’s forgiveness. Many of us share that struggle. How can we, as Christ’s followers, truly embrace God’s grace in those difficult areas of our lives? (see Matthew 11:28)

  7. Which character impacted you most, Kaylee or Sierra? Why?

  8. Kaylee is afraid to speak truth because it may wound her mother. Many of us have had times when we were afraid to reveal truth because it might hurt someone else. What guidelines can we find in Scripture for such situations?

  9. John 8:32 says: “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” Several of the characters in this story lived with untruth in their lives—lies they believed about th
emselves, about others, or about God. Others kept secrets rather than speak truth. How did living this way affect them? How could we apply John 8:32 to these situations? How can you apply it in your own life?

  10. What do you think the redwood trees in Words represent?

  11. What displays God’s power to you?

  12. Sierra’s dad encourages her to look beyond a person’s actions to see that person’s heart—to look for what’s causing that person to act as he or she does. This was to help Sierra better understand people. How might this advice change the way you look at others?

  13. It is easy to judge those who are different than we are. Did Kaylee’s, Sierra’s, and Kathryn’s experiences give you new understanding of what others may suffer? What impact will that insight have on the way you see others?

  14. Sierra changes her name in the story to signify a new season of her life. The Bible references God giving each of us a new name (see Isaiah 62:2; Revelation 2:17). What would you like your new name to signify?

  15. Pete expressed both anger with and compassion for Kaylee’s abuser. How did Pete’s reaction impact you? (see Matthew 18:5)

  16. John 1:1 refers to Christ as the Word. This name for Christ becomes significant to Kaylee because of her love for words. What names for God are significant to you and why?

  17. God promises to restore what’s been lost in our lives (see Joel 2:25). What would you like God to restore in your life?