Saint of the Day: Blessed William Carter

Six years ago, I was physically assaulted in my own home. It was a terrifying experience and because of the actions of my then pre-school aged daughter (who was home at the time of the attack), I am still here to tell you about it.

 There are two reasons I am actually saying something about this experience this year.

 1) Most saints and holy people have specially designated feast days. You can sign up to receive "Saint of the Day" email but every day one of my facebook friend's posts what feast day it is and which Saint is being celebrated. I thought I'd look up who is celebrated tomorrow, before my friend posts it. And wouldn't you know it, the saint being celebrated on January 11 is Blessed William Carter.

Who is William Carter? Some guy who was born in London and entered the printing business at an early age. Whoopdeedoo. He entered the printing business. The thing is, he apparently offended public officials with some of the stuff he published which was stuff aimed to help Catholics (this was the 1500s after all) be strong in their faith. Once officials confiscated various items that confirmed his guilt of this "crime," he was arrested and went to prison and was even in prison (getting tortured) when he learned of his wife's death.

William was eventually charged and found guilty (by a jury that met for only 15 minutes) all the while calmly placing his trust in God. He was hanged, drawn and quartered the day after his conviction: January 11, 1584. How long til the Catholic church recognized his entrance into heaven? 403 years. (He was beatified in 1987.)

That all certainly puts a lot in perspective. I guess I can continue to share my story in the hopes of encouraging others in their faith.I had already been thinking of typing up something like this when reason #2 hit me in the face.

 2) Over dinner tonight, my daughter told me about something her class did today which involved students writing down a conflict they have experienced and yet have not been able to resolve. So, she took a piece of paper and wrote down, "I almost saw my mom die before my eyes and now I dream about it every night." And then my daughter proceeded to tell me how someone in the class read what she wrote on the piece of paper and she stoically acted like she didn't know who wrote that and nobody could guess who it was from. And then she bravely approached her teacher later and told her about the experience she had six years ago and cried and unloaded her burden. And it took everything in me to listen with generosity and not burst into tears in front of my daughter as I heard her share her experience strength and hope.

What's the point of sharing this kind of information? Why bother telling people about something like this? I mean, why not simply... move on and be done with it?

Well, we are moving on. We have moved on. But not unscathed.

The assault I experienced had a devastating affect on the marriage I was in at the time. I am no longer married and I can tell you it is because of the consequences of that assault. Intimacy and vulnerability remain mines in the emotional minefield of my life. I am impatient, I feel emotionally taxed most of the time, I lose my temper when pushed too far, and am extremely sensitive to boundaries and having my space honored. But, I have been surrounded by good friends and family who constantly, tirelessly, continue to remind me I am loved and their support and help has been at a level I could probably never reciprocate.

Obviously, my daughter is still impacted by the events from six years ago. She is more concerned for my safety than a child should be and she struggled for years to sleep through the night without a nightmare replaying the events she observed when she was younger. I applaud her for her strength now - and then - but know that she still struggles to feel both emotionally and physically safe. While we make progress, it is a process. It is a wound from which neither one of us has fully recovered. I'm not sure we will. It's more than just a scar. It's more like the screen on a smart phone that gets smashed. Nothing will ever look the same again.

If you haven't ever been through something like my experience, perhaps this opens up your mind and heart to some things. If you have been through something like my experience, perhaps this post helps you know you're not as alone as you may some times feel.

 I spoke with a friend shortly after my assault and she shared a most helpful story.

She said that Chuck Yeager - the first man to break the sound barrier - was ABLE to break the sound barrier because - in comparison to other pilots who had attempted to achieve this - when the plane began vibrating and feeling out of control, Yeager believed that the heavy vibration of the plane would actually calm down after reaching Mach 1. In other words, despite how much noise the plane made and how it probably seemed like he was about to die, HE KEPT GOING. Alison said that I while was probably feeling like Chuck Yeager - my plane falling apart and such - rather than slow down, I should push a little harder on the gas pedal and KEEP GOING. (By the way, as we all know, on October 14, 1947, just as Chuck Yeager had predicted, the aircraft did steady and he passed Mach 1, breaking the sound barrier and creating the first man-made sonic boom.)

So, whenever I freak out about... anything, I try to remember that whenever that happens, isn't it human nature to begin to have doubts about the very thing we work hard to achieve? During those times, I try to remind myself to push a little harder on the gas pedal and just KEEP GOING.

As the Saint of the Day website says: "In an age when religious diversity did not yet seem possible, it was high treason, and practicing the faith was dangerous. William gave his life for his efforts to encourage his brothers and sisters to keep up the struggle. These days, our brothers and sisters also need encouragement—not because their lives are at risk, but because many other factors besiege their faith. They look to us."