This story was written in memory of my next-to-the-youngest daughter who was abducted and killed when she was 15 years old. Although she was killed more than a decade ago, I was unable to write her story until 1995.
I present it here in the hope that others who have lost a child may draw strength and encouragement from my own experiences with grief.
"LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAYS"
by Marjorie L. Garrett
In the aftermath of the Oklahoma City bombing, I sat glued to my television set. During the following days, as CNN provided up-to-the-minute coverage, I cried for the victims and grieved with their families.
After watching the first pictures from the site, time spun backwards to a time when I was told by a sheriff's deputy about the discovery of my daughter's body. She had been abducted and murdered.
My first reaction that day was one of intense rage. In that moment, I wanted to, and could have, killed the individual responsible for my daughter's death. Then a blessed numbness set in as my mind tried to deal with the horror of this wanton act of violence against not only my daughter but those of us who loved her.
Later that evening, in the quiet and darkness, I prayed for understanding of, not only what happened to my daughter, but for my own murderous thoughts. I repeated the 23rd Psalms, seeking the comfort and strength which these words had brought so many times in my life.
Little did I know that this was to be the beginning of a long, and often difficult, spiritual journey for me. Over the next week, the numbness remained as we, her father, her step-mother, her brother, her sisters, and I went through the process of funeral arrangements, law enforcement investigations, and, finally, the funeral itself.
After returning home, I began trying to get my life back to a semblance of normalcy. One of the first things I did was to check in with a psychologist, for I knew I needed help in sorting out the feelings which were returning.
As a writer, I knew part of my healing would entail putting my feelings and thoughts on paper. One night as I sat at my desk writing a letter to my deceased daughter, telling her how much I missed her, I felt a presence in the room with me and a light touch on my shoulder. I turned to look behind me and "heard" these words, "Lo, I am with you always, unto the end of time." (Matthew 28:20)
My eyes went to the picture of Christ hanging on the wall. In that moment His peace filled me. I would like to say this was the end of the pain and the rage, but it wasn't. However, it did open my heart and my mind to His guidance and healing power.
One of the things which had been troubling me in the days after my daughter's death, was the phrase, "It was God's will," which many well-meaning people had uttered in their attempts to comfort me. Slowly, I began to realize God's will did not, and could not, include acts of violence. One human being was responsible for taking another human being's life.
This realization little prepared me for what God would next ask of me, however.
Within a very short time, the law enforcement personnel arrested a man for my daughter's death and he went to trial.
Prior to my daughter's death, I had often stated that I did not believe in the death penalty which existed in the state where my daughter was killed. I believed no one had the right to take another's life, legally or illegally. I believed that in taking another's life, we were guilty of denying God the chance to salvage a lost soul.
During the perpetator's trial, I sensed God asking me to "put prayer where my mouth was." And I did. I prayed he would be convicted only if he were indeed guilty of the crime. I prayed he not receive the death penalty. I prayed for his family.
After the trial, I buried the pain and the rage as I tried to return to the business of making a living and rearing my youngest daughter. However, at inappropriate times the rage would surface unexpectedly and I would quickly attempt to push it back down. The pain returned when I heard on the evening news that a child had been reported missing or during holidays or around my daughter's birthday. I began experiencing panic attacks, when for no obvious reason, I would feel fear and a sense of panic.
These symptoms, signifying the healing was not complete, were infrequent, but disabling when they did occur. I sensed that God was asking something else of me, something I did not want to acknowledge.
I lost a couple of jobs due, in part, to my inability to put the tragedy behind me, and in part to my reluctance to face what God wanted of me. After the loss of the second job, I decided maybe I needed a change of scenery. I rationalized that leaving the area would help me straighten out my life. In retrospect, I realize I was running from facing what I needed to do. I wasn't ready yet to let go of the pain and the rage.
For many years, I had talked of moving back East, where my roots were...of finding a place I could call home, my home. I discussed the idea of relocation with my youngest daughter, and my oldest daughter, who had recently moved back home. Together, we decided to make the move.
But, even in this decision, God was working. We undertook the move with very little money and heading for an area where we knew no one. During the trip, I was forced many times to turn to God for guidance, strength, and deliverance from my own ignorance.
When we arrived at our destination, God manifested Himself through many caring and compassionate people. After taking care of our basic needs...shelter, food, and an income, He asked for the ultimate sacrifice from me. He asked that I place all my pain and rage on the altar of forgiveness. I told Him I couldn't. And again, I heard Him speaking to me through His Word, the Bible, "All things are possible to him that believes." (Mark 9:23)
With God's help and His grace, I forgave the man who had killed my daughter and began praying for his redemption. With forgiveness, the pain and the rage were taken from me and I truly began to heal.
Now many, many years after my daughter's death, God is still guiding me to answers to questions surrounding my daughter's death. During all the intervening years, He has remained with me through some scary times (three heart attacks and by-pass surgery) and some beautiful times (giving and receiving love from my grandchildren). He has manifested His Love everyday through the caring people who have touched my life in moments of crisis and of joy.
Published: Our Testimony, June 1995
Comments may be sent to me at granny@netsync.net
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