Why Ask Why?
by Carmyn Sparks

Have you noticed that one of the most painful questions people ask is: “Why did this happen to me?” Perhaps I can answer that question.

The human mind is interested in “why” more than anything else. As a child begins to communicate, they have more “why” questions than others can answer. “Why do birds fly? Why do you cry when you cut onions? Why do we blink? Why, why, why?

As children grow older the “why” becomes more self- centered, “Why can’t I go?” “Why can’t I have a car?” “Why do I have to go to school?”

Finally, as adulthood approaches, the why becomes “Why am I here?”

Some seek the answer their entire life and, sadly, never find the answer.

My name, Carmyn, is spelled with a “Y” instead of the usual spelling with an “E.”

I’ve been called Cameron, Carolyn, Carmie, and the worst, Crayon!

Actually, no one knows why or how my father chose that name, and especially the “Y” in my name. This unusual spelling of my name causes common mispronunciations, as well as misspellings, even to this day. My grandfather always knew there was a “Y” in my name somewhere, but in spelling it, he was never able to put it in the same place; hence, his diverse spellings of my name as Carymn, Camryn, and Carmny.

The Danish poet, Soren Kierkegaard, wrote, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”

For most of my life that “Y” in my name was a reminder that I felt like a misplaced “why.” Looking back, it was clear why Carmyn was my chosen name, especially the “Y” in my name. When I was three-years-old, a brilliant Ball of Light surrounded me whenever my perpetrators violated my will. I live now to bear witness to the Light. And that Light has become my friend for life. This was the beginning of several times in later years when the beautiful and resplendent Light appeared in my life; but it was years later before the Light revealed Himself and I would understand what happened back then.

Many were envious of my seemingly privileged life as a wealthy, society debutante, but underneath the ball gowns and jewels, there was a tormented love-starved little girl.

Do you recall the first time you became aware people were “looking” at you?

For me, I remember the exact location and time I became self-conscious others were watching me.

It was my first day of school in September, 1954.

As other students rode the bus, walked to school or were dropped off by a parent, I pulled up in the back seat of a large black Cadillac, driven by a chauffeur. As Willie D. led me into school that first day, not only did the kids look at me, but adults stared as well. I wanted to close my eyes and disappear.

The next day, I asked Willy D. to drop me off six blocks from school so I could walk like the other kids. It only made it worse because he followed behind me in that huge car. I looked like the emperor with no clothes, which only made everyone stare and laugh more.

That day marked the beginning of my feeling different, out of place, and misunderstood. I wanted to be anybody but me; if only I could change my name and be someone else. I felt different, unacceptable, and misunderstood.

These feelings, along with a traumatic and abusive childhood of incest, left me disappointed and without hope. My endless repeated violations of rape resulted in an abortion because of the incest at age thirteen. It was the push over the edge into nothingness that tempted me to take my life to silence the pain inside.

After two failed suicide attempts, I married right out of high school at age eighteen. Due to the abusive relationship, I felt trapped, and this marriage ended in divorce, nineteen months later.

Life was not working for me.

It seems I tried everything: money, marriage, and fame. I planned to achieve fame by becoming a model. At 5’10” I weighed 114 pounds so I could get into a size four. Three weeks before I was scheduled to leave for New York City to stake my claim to fame, I met a handsome blue-eyed wonder. When he stood up to introduce himself, he gently removed his black-rimmed glasses and put them in his coat pocket.

“Hi,” this gorgeous man said as he stuck out his hand to shake mine.

Well, he might as well have said, “Hi, I am Clark Kent, and Superman is here to take you away, baby!” And I did go!

Expecting a husband and children to give me the unconditional love and acceptance my loved-starved heart longed to have, I was greatly disillusioned after two years of marriage.

One day, at age twenty-four, after I put my two daughters, two-years-old and six months old, down for their naps, I found my husband’s 20-gauge shotgun, and decided to end it all. I would not fail this time. But how do you hold a shotgun up to your head? Suddenly, my six-month-old started crying, then she woke my two-year-old, and she was crying. I glanced up and saw my reflection in the mirror, holding that shotgun.

What am I doing? I started crying and pleading, “Whatever your name is in heaven, and if you really are, help!”

Three weeks later I was invited to a Christian Coffee Hour on December 17. I thought it was a mistake; it should be called a Christmas Coffee Hour. It was my sister-in-law’s event, so I felt obligated to go.

The only times I had been exposed to church was when my alcoholic mother took me to the early morning Communion service. All they did was sit and stand, sit, stand and kneel. I finally got so tired I sat on the floor with my back against the pew. Over the altar was a huge cross with Jesus hanging on it. The minister quoted from the Book of Common Prayer, “God gave His only Begotten Son.” I never knew what “begotten” was, but I thought he said, “forgotten.” I felt sorry for Jesus, as I knew how he felt to be forgotten by His family as well.

The Christmas Coffee was uncomfortable for me, especially when a woman got up to give her testimony. She had been divorced. Me too. She had been depressed and wanted to die. Me too. She felt lost without any answers to life. Me too!

Then she did a weird thing; she prayed. I had only heard a priest lead others in prayer, never a woman. At the end of her prayer she said, “If anyone here has never received Christ, I am going to say a prayer to pray along with me.”

That was one thing I had never done, so what the heck, might as well try that. I prayed, “Yeah I have sinned, sure know that” and then I asked Jesus into my heart.

The girl I came with bolted after it was over. When we got to the car she said, “I can’t believe anybody would be so dumb to pray a prayer like that.” I thought I was anything but dumb so I said, “Me, too.”

Two months went by and on February 19, 1974, at 3 a.m., I was reading Hal Lindsey’s Late Great Planet Earth. I was terrified about the end of the world and the judgment of God sounded horrific.

I wondered where I would be if this happened? Then in parenthesis, the book asked, (Have you ever received Christ? Where is He?). By the way, I never found that sentence in that book when I went back to it later. But at that moment, since I am a visual person, I remembered Christ on the cross and knew why Christ was there. He was there for me.

Christ died for me!

Then I imagined Jesus was right behind me. I stood up and turned around, only to fall to my knees.

I felt the warm love of Jesus Christ pour over my head, and I grabbed my chest and said, “You are here.” It was the first time in my life I felt loved, accepted, and understood. I was forgiven, totally and completely forgiven of all my sins.

I had been bitter within, angry at God, and at life. I lived a life of great pretend on the outside, but with great pain on the inside.

Let’s imagine to get into heaven, our requirement is to swim from California to Hawaii. In this competition are the following people: Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi, Buddha, King David, The Pope, Billy Graham, most of us, Brad Pitt, and Oprah Winfrey. Then there is a liar, the adulterer, the thief, Charles Manson, Jack the Ripper, Hitler, and the pilots of the airplanes that hit the World Trade Center Towers.

Mother Teresa swims 500 miles; the Pope swims 800 miles; Billy Graham, 1,000; Gandhi, 300; you and I make it 75 miles; Jack the Ripper and Hitler immediately sink. The point is no one is going to make it; every single one is going to fall way short of the Hawaiian paradise! None of us are going to make it on our own; we all are going to fall short of a perfect and Holy God.

But that is not the end of the story. Just like God went to Cain and said, “Why are you angry?” God asks us and every other human being born on planet earth, “Why are you angry? If you do what is right, I have given you a way, the right way and the only way. The arms of my Son, Jesus Christ, are outstretched on the cross, dying for you to come to Him.”

For you, Jesus Christ is the vessel to take you all the way to the warm beaches of God’s love and acceptance. Jesus swam the shark-infested waters, went through the overwhelming waves of the treacherous storms of the dark sea and walked onto the warm beaches and sunlit lush paradise. He invites us to come.

And if there was only you in the ocean, Jesus would come for you alone.

God came to me and said, “Why are you angry? Why are you depressed? Why are you hopeless? If you choose life in my Son, will not your countenance be lifted?”

No matter where we are in life, no matter what we have done, God is seeking us; God comes to us; He eagerly responds to those who cry out to Him, just as I did.

The option was clear; the journey on either path that I was taking was determined by something as simple as a choice. February 19. 1974, was the divine moment in my life when I chose Jesus Christ.

My life has never been the same since. Yes, I still confront problems in my life. However, through understanding, God loves me right where I am; I can forgive and possibly never forget.

God provided my choice in His Son, and Jesus assures me, “Your past is truly your past. Now, I ask what do you want your future to be?”

I am thankful God rescued me from the deep waters that threatened to overtake me. God also has a life vest with your name on it. Will you reach out and grab it?

Carmyn and her husband, Hal, founded Breakthrough Ministries, LLC in 2013. Carmyn has taught on a regular basis in women’s ministry in various churches in Fort Worth, Texas and Tulsa, Oklahoma since 1981. She is a speaker at women’s organizations, church groups and retreats. Find Carmyn at carmynsparks.com.