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To Continue the story…

Suddenly fear for Wesley overwhelmed me.  I began to pray for my son’s protection and begged my attacker to let me care for him.  The attacker finally relented, pulled me up and marched me down stairs with the gun firmly in my back.  Turned out later that the gun was my husband’s off duty police gun.  He was no longer an officer, but the gun had been tucked away in obscure place.  The rapist had been in the house alone for some time.  That thought alone is very creepy.

Wes was still on the floor, unaware of the danger and quite happy even though it was past his morning nap time.  I was allowed to carry him to his room, but the window shade had to remain open, my attacker announced.  I put Wes to bed with  a wet diaper–with none of the usual rocking and reading.  Miracle of miracles, that child went right to sleep and never uttered a sound.  As I was led away, a peace settled over me, Wes was safe.  But the peace lasted only a moment, for the next hour was sheer horror. 

The gunman pushed me back into the mater bedroom.  Using several scarves he’d found in a drawer, he blindfolded me so tightly that later I had trouble seeing.  He tied my hands behind my back.  He proceeded to fondle my breast and put me down by saying “Not much for tits, huh?”    I asked him if he was going to rape me.  He said no as he began to take off my jogging pants and underwear, then my shoes and socks.

I said, “I thought you said you weren’t going to rape me. 

“This is just for insurance for when I leave,” he said.  He then untied my hands and took my top off.  Once I was nude he retied my hands then got undressed himself.  With the tight blindfold I could only hear him do this.  He climbed on top of me and proceeded to rape me orally, rectally and vaginally, with this penis, fingers, and tongue over and over again.  I cried out in pain, but he told me to shut up and raped more brutally.  At one point he tried to make me say disgusting things to him.  Say, “I want this big dick in my pussy,” he insisted.  When I didn’t comply, he shouted, “You’re not talking!”  The truth was I couldn’t make those words come out of my mouth.

Instead, I said, “Jesus loves you and you don’t have to do this.”  He kept on, and I lost track of time.

When he was getting ready to leave, my attacker forced me onto the bed–face down.  I felt certain he was going to shoot me in the back three times. I can’t explain why it seemed so real.  Every rape and sexual violation is a brush with death, I later learned.  I prayed for survival but as best I could, I prepared to die.  I was dragged onto the bathroom floor, nude, and still tightly blindfolded.  He tied a scarf through my mouth and around my head, retied my hands behind me, and my feet together.

The attacker then put what seemed to have been a ether-soaked cloth firmly over my face and nearly suffocated me in his haste to make me breathe it.  I had no choice but to do so. I don’t know how long he kept forcing that, but at some point he let go.  It sounded like he was getting dressed.  When I found myself losing consciousness, I prayed again, this time to remain awake.  At the same time, I tried to convince him that I was going under.  He ordered me to count to 1000.  When I had reached 32 or so, he yelled at me asking me if I could hear him, but I didn’t answer readily on purpose.  He asked again, louder.  I vaguely acknowledged him.  He then ordered me not to tell anyone what had happened, threatening that he  would be back to kill me if I did.  He then yelled at me to keep counting.  I did, up to 130.  While he finished getting ready, I miraculously remained alert, and was fairly sure I heard him leave through the sliding glass doors.

In addition to the miracle of the peace I felt about the safety of my son and my not losing consciousness.  I also knew my daughter was due home any minute.  I was completely and securely tied up.  I could not speak or pick up the phone.  I struggled and struggled to desperately get my hands free, with absolutely no success.  Then I prayed for help.  Immediately, with my hands tied behind me, I simply was able to pull them easily apart.  I then immediately took off the gag and blindfold.  I hysterically called my husband at work.  Also, miraculously, I had a police officer and his wife a police dispatcher, living next door.  They worked nights and were asleep.  Knowing this, I grabbed a robe, ran to their house and screamed and pounded on the their door.  He came downstairs with a gun and they immediately took over.   They closed up my house, brought Wes over (leaving him there just shows how hysterical I was), and were compelled by law to call the police since he had used a gun.  My poor daughter came home to four or five police cars at our house, was taken away by someone, and I did not see her for four days.  Wes was also taken, and I do not remember when I saw him again.

What didn’t show, were the knife cuts left bleeding in my brain, heart and soul.  The damage done to me also created damage in my ability to mother my children well.  They are still suffering from the fall out of this nuclear explosion to us. Again, they were only 5 and 22 months old.  So little.


  1. Being violated when we believe we’re in a safe place is a horrible thing. It disturbs us tremendously. Nowhere feels safe anymore. You were attacked by an intruder in your home. I’m so sorry. I’m sure the devastation was beyond words. I was defiled by someone in my home as a child. Many times. And in my grandparents home. And with others. With nowhere to run. It has wrecked havoc on my family and marriage too. But thank God, He has been and is redeeming all of our lives. I have been able to speak the truth. It is setting me free. In recalling the traumas and allowing the emotions to be expressed, in leaving the pain with my kind and loving Jesus and His tender Father, I am healing. Having a wonderful team of therapists, pastors, friends, prayer partners, and medical professionals has helped me during my healing. God is love and He grieves when evil people hurt others. He reaches out to all who come to Him and offers a healing balm and refreshing waters.

  2. I’ve just spent an hour reading your blog postings Sherrill and have learned the unthinkable details of your rape and I just wanted to say that I am amazed at how you have recovered from such an ordeal. Clearly it is Our Lord who has given you a voice for those who remain speechless from trauma and shame. This horrible act that was meant for harm has been turned for good and I ask Our Lord to continue to give you widsom and peace as He walks before you on your Unintended Journey.

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