THE STORY OF ME

Preface

The flames caused a glow in the nightlight.  I didn’t know if it was real.  It looked real but I was suspicious.  I crept down the hall, peered over the banister and down the stairs.  Aaah!  I could see smoke!  I could smell smoke.  My father kept saying come downstairs Diane there is a fire!  The house is on fire.  My brother’s and sister had already run downstairs.  It was odd though because I did not hear any exclamations from them.  The flames glowed brighter.  The smoke smell grew stronger.  I was scared but I didn’t know what I feared the most.  Should I stay upstairs by myself or should I trust my father?  I decided to trust him.  After all he would not make up something like that.  I ran downstairs expecting to run outside.  There he was.  He grabbed me.  Caught me.  He laughed at me.  He was stark naked.  He held in his hand what was left of a waxed centerpiece that he had lit.  It was melted down now.  I saw his wicked smile.  I heard him say Got Ya!   I knew it.  It was a trick!  A cruel plot and scheme he connived to get me to come downstairs.  This was not the first time nor would it be the last.  He was drunk.  Sloppy drunk.  He could hardly stand up.  He commanded my sister and brothers to go back up stairs.  He put the fire out of the centerpiece, took me in the room and raped

me.

I was between the ages of eleven and twelve at the time.  We were stationed at Travis Air Force Base.  My father was a Technical Sergeant in the US Air Force.  As I sit down and begin to write this book.  This memory is the most prevalent in my mind of my child hood years.  I have not thought about the details of my child hood lately, at least not most of the details but today I heard the spirit of the Lord say write.  I have desired to write my story for many years but never found the time or had the opportunity.  Through a series of events that led to my becoming unemployed I now have time to write so I begin the story of me.

My story is a powerful story that will help the hurting and destitute woman.  It is a testimony that proves that with God all things are possible.  It is a true success story without any superficial antidotes or topical ointments.  It goes to the core of what deliverance is all about.  There is no short cut but you can be made whole if you desire to be.

I have written the events of my life according to my clearest recollections and have not written this story with any intentions of causing discomfort to any of my family members but strongly know that there are many, many others who have lived the same horrors but don’t know how to overcome the effects of their experiences.

The story I am about to tell is not a story of woe and self-pity.  It is not even a story written for therapy or healing.  It is a story of victory and overcoming all the obstacles that the enemy placed in my path to prevent me from knowing who I am and what I was intended to be. 

My life began, as I knew it December 26 1962.  I was born at McClelland Air Force Base in Sacramento California.  I was the second child born to William A. and Carol Ann Parker.  We led an interesting life compared to some people of our race.  We traveled to different parts of the world.  Of the few memories I do have of my child hood I recall living in Germany.  I’m not sure how old I was.  I remember my brother and I playing in the snow.  There was lots of snow.  It was so high we had to wear layers of clothing to go outside and play.  I remember several pair of socks, several pair of pants, gloves, beanies (caps for our heads) and a thick jacket.  Then we were ready to go and play.  We made snowmen of course.  We made angels in the snow.  We had to first lye down face up in the snow.  We then began to wave our arms up and down and open and shut our legs over and over until we left an imprint in the snow.  We had to be careful how we got up so that we didn’t ruin our images.  When we got up, there it was.  The prettiest angels you ever wanted to see!