Topic: Blog Tours
The Rape of Innocence: Taking Captivity Captive-No More Victim Here
The title of this book may seem long, but it only captures a small portion of what lies within its pages. Over the next couple of days, we will be visiting with the author of this book, Lacresha Hayes. We'll look inside the book and talk with Lacresha. Hopefully, before it is over, some of you will find hope and healing in your lives.
On April 18 at Noon EST, please join me as I welcome this inspirational woman to my chat room http://pub29.bravenet.com/chat/show.php/2488831080 for an hour-long talk on not only how her innocence was tragically ripped from her, but how she came to heal, grow and thrive today.
Below is an excerpt from The Rape of Innocence by Lacresha Hayes:
Molestation happens across cultural lines. It happens across racial lines. It isn't based upon intelligence. It isn't based upon financial health. It may seem to happen more in poverty-stricken communities, but I can assure you that most of it just goes unreported.
I found out the hard way that molestation isn't just a black thing or a poor thing. It is a perversion thing. It happens to God's called and chosen people, and it happens to the average Jane Doe in an average home. God created each of us with purpose. I don't believe the enemy would waste his time tempting people to molest or rape a person who has no destiny and no call upon their life. Because of the very nature of the crime, it can be nothing less than a device of the enemy, one of his strongest weapons.
Someone reading this book may think that they have never been molested when indeed they have been. A molester is a molester long before he touches his first victim. He is first guilty in his thoughts. Some men never actually touch their victims. They just think and fantasize about touching. They rent the videos of children with adults engaging in sex acts. Some molesters do it with the words of their mouths. They talk filth to children. They take advantage of their positions in those children's lives. They open a door that should not be opened by planting filthy word images in young minds. Some of you haven't actually been touched, but you have been molested.
That family reunion opened my eyes to a lot of things. Because of that repressed memory, this book exists. God had to allow a series of events to happen to make me go back and deal with my past. This testimony was freed while I was in jail.
I was arrested in August 2005 for old fines and failure to appear warrants. While I was in jail, God kept bringing the memory of what my great grandfather had done back to my mind. It seemed to torment me. It had been 2 years since I first remembered and here it was, still cropping up.
One night as I was praying, God spoke to me in a whisper and told me that I would be in jail until I learned obedience. He would never specifically tell me what I needed to do because I already knew. I was in jail for 44 days, skirting the issue, hitting and missing at what He wanted from me. Finally, I put pencil to paper and began to write. With every paragraph I was stopping and crying. It was dreadful! I didn't feel prepared for the suffering!
With every page I completed, the family reunion kept coming back up. The answer had been right before my eyes. The reason the memory continually resurfaced was that God was telling me to share my testimony with the world. He wanted to use my story to break heavy yokes of oppression, depression, worthlessness and anger off of others. In my own family, rape had happened... not only to me, but to others that I loved. I was angry. I was really angry at the devil for the first time and God helped me to channel that anger onto these pages.
My family reunion was the genesis of my assignment, my destiny. I was called to bring the light of exposure to the hidden world of familial incest and perversion inside and outside of the Church, and to bring encouragement to men and women around the world who have been victimized and disillusioned. Though this call is not easy, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
