Thursday, February 16, 2017

Ah, That's Why That Hurts So Much....

Delphi, IN, where the zipcode is 46923.  A small town {population was 2,893 at the 2010 census.  In 1996, my graduating class had 89 people in it.  #smalltown} in the midwest.  It's the county seat for our county. Like many other midwestern towns, there are a mix of small businesses and agriculture in the community.  It's a place where everyone knows everyone and people are for the most part, kind and friendly.   It's a place where some people stay after high school and choose to raise families of their own there.  For the most part, it is safe.

However, if you haven't heard of Delphi yet, chances are you will soon, as there was some heartbreaking news that happened there this week. {The article is here:} In my hometown.  Where I grew up.  In this small town in the midwest where things like this don't really happen, unless you remember 1980.  

I couldn't quite put my finger on all the uneasiness I have felt since hearing about these girls.  Yes, I knew one of their parents as well as one of the girls {not well, but I knew them}, so there is that connection. There is also the connection of it being my small hometown, where these things don't generally happen, unless, again you know what happened almost 40 years ago.

As the press reports would go live, I would tune in, hoping and praying for good news. Then,  when words like "foul play," "homicide," "murder," "death," "investigation," and the like are brought up, it triggered me.  Back to 1980.  The biggest question that took my breath away was "Deputy, do you know when the last homicide took place here was?"  The fear and shame that overwhelmed me was unreal.  Why the fear and shame, you ask?  See, my dad {bio dad, not the step dad who just passed away a few months ago.  Yes, I've had a lot of loss, friends}, was murdered in my hometown in 1980.  Ugh.  Do you know how gross, ugly and disgusting that is to even type?  Let alone read out loud?  Granted, I was just 2 at the time, but for me to talk about "how safe my town is," and "how things like this don't happen there," aren't 100% entirely true to my reality. The bizarre thing as I look back on it is that it felt safe growing up there.  It's like I lived in this little bubble of denial maybe?  Or just unaware since I was so young when my dad was killed? {Ugh, I normally say die, so those words take on a new meaning as I type them out.}  And, that's why what has happened there hurts me so much.  

So all that to say I suppose this hits super close to home for me, since I experienced something similar in that same town many years ago.  The loss, the grief, the mourning, the unknown, I get it.  I've lived it.  I grew up with it as close to me as the shirt on the back of your neck.  It was so woven into who I was and my identity that I didn't know any differently.  See, growing up with that happening to me gave me a "victim mentality," or the "my dad was killed when I was young, so have pity on me," that sort of thing.

It wasn't until fairly recently that God set me free from that and showed me HIS mentality. The Daughter of THE King Conquering mentality.  And, ya know what?  Regardless of what you've been through in your's there for you too.  So if you wonder why I'm passionate about freedom and helping women be free in Him, there's a bit of the backstory for you.

Please keep my hometown and these sweet families and the students in your prayers.  


  1. When I tried to think of the last homicide, I thought of your dad. Praying for your peace of mind

  2. I remember, and I did think the same thing when the question was asked. I worked at the stone quarry then, I thought of you and your mom. God bless you, hugs to Kathy and yourself.