Predestined to Win!
by Kathy Hewitt
"I tell no one about the abuse. . . . It is hidden deep, and its name is Shame."
WHO AM I?
I am the firstborn of eight children.
If there is one word that describes the first thirty-six years of my life, it is "dysfunctional." The definition of dysfunction is: "impaired or abnormal functioning." That is truly an understatement.
At the young age of 10, I am placed into my first of six foster homes. What is about to happen to me, I have no idea. You see, Mom and Dad were divorced in 1977, and when it proves to be too difficult for Mom to raise us by herself, we are sent in different directions, into different foster homes. Separated and torn apart, this is the beginning of a "journey" I would not wish on anyone.
The new "family" seems nice enough at first. But I have an enemy who is determined to destroy my life, and the actions that will come against me in the form of mental and physical abuse can only have originated from hell itself. Raped by the oldest adult boy, my identity is stolen, ripped from my grasp. He verbally threatens me not to tell so he can keep the truth hidden from everyone. I feel filthy and soiled, defiled and forever tainted by hands that have robbed me of my virginity.
Some of the "discipline" I am made to endure in this home consists of having to eat food off the floor if I happen to drop it, standing in a corner for hours, and doing weekly cleaning chores, sometimes being made to use a toothbrush as a tool. The worst for me are the rapes . . . over and over. That, and the lack of love, launch me into the ever widening pit of depression, loneliness, and feeling of worthlessness.
Thus, the beginning of a deep black hole forms in my soul. The enemy has succeeded in planting an evil seed in the bottom of that hole (although I realize now that he had begun this destructive work in me earlier by my family's implied permission). This, of course, brings massive confusion, anger, hatred, bitterness and isolation upon me. The "root of bitterness," once it takes hold, grows into a deliberate turning away from God.
The writer of the New Testament book of Hebrews warns us: "See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many. See that no one is sexually immoral, or is godless like Esau, who for a single meal sold his inheritance rights as the oldest son. Afterward, as you know, when he wanted to inherit this blessing, he was rejected. . . . though he sought the blessing with tears." Hebrews 12:15-17
As you continue in the reading of my story, you will notice that my thought process becomes warped, distorted, and absolutely lost to reason, and bitterness consumes every living part of my being.
I have since learned that the enemy comes to us through our thoughts. But we need to have the mind of Christ in order to discern whose voice we are listening to and obeying. This is one of the most important pieces of information I needed to grasp. When I learned to take control of my thoughts by the authority of Jesus Christ, and recognized which voice was speaking to me, I was able to overcome the enemy by the blood of the Lamb and by the words of my testimony. Also, my thought process needed to be matured and disciplined in order to handle the negative and destructive thoughts that bombard me.
But back then, I continuously questioned, "Why is no one helping me escape this abusive affliction? Why is everything changing so abruptly? Doesn't anybody notice? Don't they see a change in my behavior and character?"
Looking back, I know that God must have sent ministering angels to me many times. He ministered to my spirit. His word promised me that He would never leave me or forsake me! And in my spirit I knew this truth.
Eventually, I become immune to the pain and am forced to accept my fate. I am too young to comprehend "choices." In my formative years, I wasn't taught about making choices, so I assume that this is the direction my life has to take. And after many acts of repeated rape, I begin to like the attention I am getting. I feel "special" and "loved." Somebody acknowledges my existence.
Sometime later, I am moved into other homes, each with its own type of abuse.
After the fifth foster home, my Uncle and Aunt from Maine take me into their home. This is my sixth and final foster home. By now, my anger and hatred for those who have hurt me---and those that I love who have failed me---is very apparent. I display repeated outbursts of rage. I am spiteful and vindictive, accusing my sister of the very things which I have committed. I become known as a "trouble maker."
I begin to flirt with much older men since I have already been savagely and violently abused and have nothing to lose; the enemy is already deeply entrenched in my young life. I tell no one about the abuse that has taken place in the five foster homes. It is hidden deep, and its name is shame. Sexual encounters---that is where I believe I can find love and solace. This is the lie I have been taught, life lessons that have distorted the truth about who the real Kathy is.
My identity is stripped, shattered, lost.
