PROLOGUE

I woke up that fateful day feeling the way I always did—my mother’s perfect nine-year-old daughter, ripe for adventure, curious about everything, and full of love and life’s essence.

My neighbor, Mr. Dyson, was a small, gray-haired man in his fifties. He had been spending a lot of time with me that summer. I felt so special when I was with him. He treated me the way my father treated my mother, and he had chosen me over my sister, Alice!

He came by that warm summer day, as he often did, and asked me if I’d like to take a walk with him in the woods. I was flattered and excited to join him for this experience. I practically lived in those woods and knew them like the back of my hand, as I loved to explore and seek adventure there. When I was younger, I had fantasized about running away from home and making a fort deep in the woods to live in. Although I never quite had the courage to run away, I felt safe there. At dusk fear emerged from deep within me, however, and I would run home.

As we walked into the woods that bright and sunny day, the shadows deepened. It almost seemed like dusk, and I felt a twinge of fear. Alone in the woods together, the only sounds were those of leaves rustling, birds chirping, the water in the creek gurgling around the rocks, and an old tree creaking. I hardly noticed that Mr. Dyson had spread out a blanket until he asked me to sit down on it with him. I wondered if he had brought a picnic and turned my big brown trusting eyes toward him with anticipation.

Reflecting on the scene as a mature adult, I imagine these were his feelings and actions:

Excited by the desire I saw in her eyes, I gently pulled her close. She rested her head on my shoulder, melting into the warmth and security of my body. I was transported by her soft skin and the warmth of her unspoiled body next to mine. I felt her invitation. This was the moment I had so patiently been working toward. Suddenly, blinded by desire, I seized her, clumsily ripped open her clothes, and penetrated her. I released my seed into her in a climax of exquisite rage.

And thus began the illness that led to my experiencing a powerful call from God to return to health. God the Father called me— loudly and clearly—to mental health. The strength to fearlessly overcome the many obstacles and challenges that are described in this memoir came from God the Holy Spirit—both within me and in many other people with whom I had relationships. God the Son called me to be fully human throughout the journey. His was the hardest call to hear and accept as I first had to confront all my fears and rage. The fire of the Holy Spirit ultimately burned all the internal obstacles away so that I could allow myself to become vulnerable.

My story is unusual, I believe, in that great underlying weakness in my personal life was countered by remarkable strength and accomplishment in my academic and professional life. My memoir is a story about the power of science and faith working in concert to bring about miraculous healing as these two threads became fully integrated late in my life.