taken it off.” She held her
hand up proudly.
“My parents’
flight home was due to return one day earlier than our flight, so Michael drove
them to the airport. I stayed back at the hotel because I had twisted my ankle
earlier that morning.
Pastor Cullen
leaned back in his chair with one hand over his mouth. As he stroked his chin,
Kat could see that his expression demonstrated a realization of what fate had
in store for her.
“Anyway, after
about two hours had passed, I started becoming concerned. I called Michael’s
cell phone, but he didn’t answer. I called the airport, asking if anyone had
seen my parents or Michael. When they told me my parents had not checked in, I
knew something was terribly wrong.”
“I called the
police and explained that my fiancé was bringing my parents to the airport and
that maybe they had car trouble. They transferred me to Highway Patrol and I
had to repeat my concerns to them. I had given them my parents’ names and
Michael’s name, as well as let them know what hotel I was staying at.”
“About an hour
later, there was a knock on my hotel room door. Thinking it was Michael
returning, I yanked it open. It was a state trooper and the look on his face
said it all.” Kat reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
“I knew right
then and there something horrible had happened. The trooper explained that
there had been a head-on collision on the highway and that there were no
survivors. He was able to identify Michael as the driver by comparing his
driver’s license with the information I had given to him over the phone.”
“He was also able
to determine that it was my parents in the car as well. He said they all died
on impact and that nobody suffered.”
Kat sat there,
frozen for a moment. It was obvious to Pastor Cullen that she was transported
back in time as she recounted the horrific events of that fateful day.
“It was the best
and worst time of my life,” she said sadly.
By this time,
tears had welled up in Pastor Cullen’s eyes. He continued to remain silent,
listening carefully to Kat’s words.
“I had to call
my sister that night and tell her. After the initial shock of making funeral
arrangements wore off, she let me have it one day. She berated me for dragging
my parents all the way across the country. She blamed me for their deaths. We
haven’t spoken in six years.”
Kat dropped her
shoulders, buried her head into her hands, and began to cry.
It was rare when
Pastor Cullen was at a loss for words. He handed Kat another tissue and sat
quietly with her, feeling powerless to help her.
Kat raised her
head and found her voice again. “It was a month later when I was attacked. As
you can imagine, I felt very alone, especially since my sister and I are not on
speaking terms.” Kat paused to take a drink. “She doesn’t know what happened,
nor does she know that she has a nephew.”
Pastor Cullen
looked at Kat with renewed admiration. He said, “Kat, I want you to know
something. First, I want to thank you for being here today. I’m honored you
chose to discuss your concerns with me. You have to know how strong you really
are.”
“Sometimes I
don’t feel very strong,” she muttered, drinking more water.
The pastor
smiled. “I think we all feel that way sometimes. But eventually we get to a
point where we must face what happened as well as face our own reactions to
what happened. When something overwhelms you, you tend to feel weak and
powerless. Somehow, you need to feel your actual pain to be able to deal with
what happened.” He motioned toward his stomach with both hands. “Don’t be
afraid to tell God about your anguish. You are not alone here.” He fisted his hands
for effect. “Invite Him into your struggle with you as the Psalmist does: ‘My
heart is in anguish within me’ but you must be willing to dig deep into your
own reactions.”
Kat stared at
him, wide-eyed. “How on earth do you know all of this?” She reached for
hand up proudly.
“My parents’
flight home was due to return one day earlier than our flight, so Michael drove
them to the airport. I stayed back at the hotel because I had twisted my ankle
earlier that morning.
Pastor Cullen
leaned back in his chair with one hand over his mouth. As he stroked his chin,
Kat could see that his expression demonstrated a realization of what fate had
in store for her.
“Anyway, after
about two hours had passed, I started becoming concerned. I called Michael’s
cell phone, but he didn’t answer. I called the airport, asking if anyone had
seen my parents or Michael. When they told me my parents had not checked in, I
knew something was terribly wrong.”
“I called the
police and explained that my fiancé was bringing my parents to the airport and
that maybe they had car trouble. They transferred me to Highway Patrol and I
had to repeat my concerns to them. I had given them my parents’ names and
Michael’s name, as well as let them know what hotel I was staying at.”
“About an hour
later, there was a knock on my hotel room door. Thinking it was Michael
returning, I yanked it open. It was a state trooper and the look on his face
said it all.” Kat reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
“I knew right
then and there something horrible had happened. The trooper explained that
there had been a head-on collision on the highway and that there were no
survivors. He was able to identify Michael as the driver by comparing his
driver’s license with the information I had given to him over the phone.”
“He was also able
to determine that it was my parents in the car as well. He said they all died
on impact and that nobody suffered.”
Kat sat there,
frozen for a moment. It was obvious to Pastor Cullen that she was transported
back in time as she recounted the horrific events of that fateful day.
“It was the best
and worst time of my life,” she said sadly.
By this time,
tears had welled up in Pastor Cullen’s eyes. He continued to remain silent,
listening carefully to Kat’s words.
“I had to call
my sister that night and tell her. After the initial shock of making funeral
arrangements wore off, she let me have it one day. She berated me for dragging
my parents all the way across the country. She blamed me for their deaths. We
haven’t spoken in six years.”
Kat dropped her
shoulders, buried her head into her hands, and began to cry.
It was rare when
Pastor Cullen was at a loss for words. He handed Kat another tissue and sat
quietly with her, feeling powerless to help her.
Kat raised her
head and found her voice again. “It was a month later when I was attacked. As
you can imagine, I felt very alone, especially since my sister and I are not on
speaking terms.” Kat paused to take a drink. “She doesn’t know what happened,
nor does she know that she has a nephew.”
Pastor Cullen
looked at Kat with renewed admiration. He said, “Kat, I want you to know
something. First, I want to thank you for being here today. I’m honored you
chose to discuss your concerns with me. You have to know how strong you really
are.”
“Sometimes I
don’t feel very strong,” she muttered, drinking more water.
The pastor
smiled. “I think we all feel that way sometimes. But eventually we get to a
point where we must face what happened as well as face our own reactions to
what happened. When something overwhelms you, you tend to feel weak and
powerless. Somehow, you need to feel your actual pain to be able to deal with
what happened.” He motioned toward his stomach with both hands. “Don’t be
afraid to tell God about your anguish. You are not alone here.” He fisted his hands
for effect. “Invite Him into your struggle with you as the Psalmist does: ‘My
heart is in anguish within me’ but you must be willing to dig deep into your
own reactions.”
Kat stared at
him, wide-eyed. “How on earth do you know all of this?” She reached for
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