Faith, Love & Truth
I want to talk about something today that is very seldom talked about seriously…stalking. Unfortunately, many of us will have to deal with a stalker in some way or another at some point in their lives. It may be an ex-boyfriend, acquaintance or the spouse of your ex. It may be someone you work with, someone you were friends with or someone you simply said ‘hello’ to at the supermarket. Regardless of who, or how, it is a very frightening experience; at its worst, it can be dangerous and deadly.We’ve all heard the jokes, read the funny cards and heard it referred to as “intense research”. I’ve even read a businesses website that said “stalk us on Instagram”. I can tell you this, if you’ve ever been a victim of stalking, it’s very real and absolutely not funny. It’s not a compliment, it’s a nightmare.
When I was in college, I started dating a boy. Not long into the relationship, I started noticing a few “red flags”. Then came the story of his ex-girlfriend. He told me of how she broke up with him and it infuriated him. So he waited until she left her house, went in and put a pan of grease on her stove and turned the burner on high. Essentially, he burnt her house down. Was this story true? I have no idea. Was it meant to scare me? Absolutely. And it worked.
As the relationship went on, It turned abusive mentally and physically. At one point, he even told me he wanted to shoot my mom because she didn’t agree with our relationship. Just one more way for him to add fear and keep me under his thumb.
One day, while sitting in class chatting with my friends, I finally got up the courage to end it. With help from my friends, we devised a plan. He lived a half-hour from me. So, I knew if I did it over the phone it would take him at least a half hour to get there. If I packed my bag ahead of time, I could leave as soon as we hung up. That would give me time to get in my car and drive to a friends house.
I was scared to death, my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, but I picked up the phone to make that call.
With my voice shaking, I said the words. I want to break up. He was instantly furious; screaming, swearing and breaking things. In the background his Mom started yelling to me to run, he was on his way to my house. With that, I hung up the phone and ran out the door. I drove to a friends house an hour away. I will never forget that drive and the fear I felt the entire time.
The next morning, as I pulled into college I couldn’t wait to tell my friends how brave I was! And then my heart dropped. He was standing there waiting for me. He had spent the entire night walking the 40 miles to my school. Thank God I had some super amazing friends that surrounded me and walked me in to my class. As class started, I looked out the door and there he stood, glaring at me. He stood there through that class, and the next two. Finally, my amazing Mama came to the school and he left.
I wish I could say it ended there.
Three days later he was admitted to a mental facility by his parents. When he got out, the stalking began. I was followed, I had rocks spun all over my car, I was chased and nearly run off the road and I cannot count the phone calls I received. At one point he stopped at my house and recounted my entire previous weekend.
I will never forget the day I was home alone and he pulled in. Thankfully, I already had all the doors locked. I hid under my bed and called my friend as he pounded on the door, yelling for me to open it. I told my friend what he was doing, saying and driving so if anything DID happen to me, someone would know. The fear was so real, just thinking of it can take me back to that day.
A few months later I started dating my husband. He told me about a night, before we met, where he had actually spoken to the stalker. He noticed that in the stalkers car, he had a ton of pictures of me taped to his dash. When he asked him about it, my stalker told him it was his girlfriend. He then pulled a gun out from under his seat and showed him. He said that if he ever found her with another guy he was going to shoot the guy, shoot her and then shoot himself. Praise the Lord that never happened.
Fast forward to last year.
I spent four months repeatedly getting phone calls from an anonymous man, asking me to “go out” with him. He would never tell me who he was, he knew my husbands work schedule and he knew my health issues. He would repeatedly call until someone answered, even as much as 15 times in a half hour. He would talk to my littles if they answered and even called when he knew my husband was home because he had to hear my voice. He told me he knew I was unhappy in my marriage (he’s obviously never read my blog, right y’all) and he needed me to meet him. This instantly took me back to being that scared-to-death teenage girl. There isn’t anything worse than feeling scared in your own home or feeling as if you constantly have to look back over your shoulder.
Fast forward to last week.
After months of feeling safe, one phone call from last years stalker was all it took. My daughter answered the phone. He said two words, and sent her reeling into an anxiety attack. Once I got on the phone, I realized it was perhaps the creepiest phone call yet. I am praying, praying with all I have, that this isn’t happening again!
If you have taken the time to read my stories, you can see stalking is very real, very scary and very dangerous. Hollywood has produced romantic comedy after romantic drama telling men if they make some grand gesture, even if it’s inappropriate, they will get the girl. These movies teach girls that crazy, unstoppable pursuit equals true love. Not to mention the glamorization of stalking and abuse in 50 Shades of Grey. But as Gavin de Becker, the nation’s leading expert on violent behavior says, “Persistence only proves persistence – it does not prove love. The fact that a pursuer is relentless doesn’t always mean you are special – sometimes it means he is troubled.” Taking relationship advice from Hollywood is a bit like asking a lost person for directions.
The music industry has sensationalized stalking as well. As we see with Robin Thicke’s song Blurred Lines “I hate these blurred lines, I know you want it” and Randy Travis’s song What’ll You Do About Me “Well you can call your lawyer, you can call the fuzz, You can sound the alarm, wake the neighbors up, Ain’t no way to stop a man in love, Now what’Il you do about me”.
The golden rules when dealing with stalkers from Stop Online Stalking…
As soon as Sunday School was over, I’d gather my things together and scurry upstairs. I would slide in the pew and settle in beside my Mama.
The service would begin.
I would sit there, impatiently waiting to sing a hymn. Singing was always my favorite part of the service. The song leader would announce the hymn number and I would quickly grab my hymnal and stand, always being one of the first ones up. As soon as the hymn would start, my Dad’s voice could plainly be heard above the rest of the congregation. When he would start singing, I would stand a little taller. I was so proud of my Dad’s singing voice, his ability to harmonize easily and his knowledge of virtually every verse of every hymn.
As I got older, my love of this Sunday morning moment never changed. If there was a Sunday my Dad had to work, I would still stand tall and proud, doing my part. My Dad had taught me how to harmonize, how to pull the melodies from the music and how to hear the piano over everyone’s voices.
I also took piano lessons for many years when I was young. I was lucky enough to have a piano teacher that was not only a Christian but attended the same church I did. Many of my weekly lessons were learning to play hymns. I can assure you there were many a night spent around the piano (not always willingly on my part), playing hymns with my Dad singing melody and me singing harmony. I can remember the neighbors saying how they enjoyed sitting on their porches in the summer listening to us. And Sunday mornings when the song leader would call out a hymn that I knew we had practiced at home, I would do a little victory dance inside. I would stand up and sing beside my Dad as loud as I could.
My Dad has aged over the years, not having the best hearing and vision anymore. There were quite a few years where he didn’t attend church because of his health issues. This had never really affected me until Easter a few years ago. The song leader announced the hymn, He Arose. I stood to sing and suddenly was overwhelmed with sadness.
I sang every hymn that Easter Sunday through tears. My husband saw me crying and asked what was wrong (which just makes me cry harder and turns it into an ugly cry). I couldn’t even really explain it to him without it coming out all jumbled. I was basically, in that single moment, overwhelmed with the reality that my life is changing. The “old days” were just that, the old days. They weren’t my reality anymore. I thought I would never again stand beside my Dad in church and harmonize. And that broke my heart into a million pieces.
But then, something happened. Something amazing happened. I walked into church one Sunday, and saw my Dad sitting there! The smile on my face couldn’t be hidden. My Dad felt confident, even though he can’t see or hear well, to again attend Sunday morning service. And my heart leaped with joy! That first Sunday when the song leader announced the hymn, I nearly fell over. It was the same hymn that, all those years ago, I played on the piano while my Dad and I harmonized. I stood as quickly as I could, turned to the page, and then I heard that familiar sound. My Dads voice rising above the rest. I could feel the tears welling up, but I had to hold them back. I fell right into my harmony spot. For the remainder of that song, I was just a 10 year old girl standing beside her Dad singing her heart out.
Nearly every Sunday, whether my Dad is beside me or not, I can be found singing a hymn through my tears. In fact, just yesterday I cried off every drop of my makeup (including my false lashes).
