Behind the Scarlet Mask: A Story of Healing and Redemption

Content Note

This post includes references to sexual assault and sexually transmitted infections (STIs). Please take care of your heart as you read.

If you’ve landed here, I want you to know you’re not alone.

My story may be your story ~ or somewhere in between.

It may look different, but the pain is still the same.

You are seen. You are heard.

You are worthy of so much more than a sexually transmitted disease defining who you are… and this is where it begins.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made (Even When I Didn’t Believe It)

The first thing I had to learn along my journey… and it is a journey... was that I was "fearfully and wonderfully made" to be more than what had been defining my life.

And if I’m being really honest, that revelation didn’t fully hit me until just a few years ago. Even after my healing... which totally transformed my life.

Where My Story Really Started

My story began long before I was diagnosed with a sexually transmitted disease.

It started early in my childhood.

I learned that performing well earned me acceptance and love.

And, I spent those early years striving for perfection, trying to overcome criticism and the sting of being the target of other children's cruel jokes.

No one knew the weight I carried.

I believed that if could just achieve something great, I would be admired and valued.

And so, cheerleading became my passion, but those early years brought repeated rejection.

Each failure, paired with hurtful rumors and ridicule, cut deeply into my soul.

Those wounds laid the foundation for a life consumed by striving to prove my worth and to be truly loved... a trap I now recognize was a lie from the enemy.

So, why not jump right to issue of the STD?

Because just like the woman with the issue of blood or the woman at the well, there was suffering along the way that played into my foundation leading up to that monumental encounter with Jesus.

The Night Everything Changed

Fast forward to my junior year of high school.

I was finally living out my dream, or my quest, I should say, and enjoying life as one of the “popular kids”… or so I thought.

I was easily influenced by the world and, like so many teenagers, I experienced many so-called “fun” nights drinking with my friends.

That was, until one dreaded night when something was stolen from me, against my will. Something I could never get back.

My virginity.

I can recall every horrific moment as if it was yesterday.

What started out as another "fun" night of drinking and hanging with my friends turned into a traumatic event that would change my life forever.

And no, that was not the night I got the sexually transmitted disease.

It was, however, the night that trust, love, and God’s plan for intimacy in my life was shattered by the enemy.

One kiss, too much to drink, and then a NO… a multiple times NO, turned into his obsession to complete the betraying act.

And in the blink of an eye, I was no longer a virgin.

In my eyes, I was no longer pure.

I couldn’t get it back.

All I wanted to do was go home, and I never spoke to him again after that night.

That night would haunt me for years and years to come… even after I’d forgiven him.

College: A Fresh Start… and More Rejection

Two years later, I left for college and everything was new.

It was a chance for me to start over.

No more memories of my younger years or the traumas that kept me bound.

That first year was tough, and it brought more rejection as I was dropped from sorority rush and then fraternity little sister rush.

Rejection once again became my old friend.

However, it drove my determination to overcome and planted another seed to succeed at something great.

I spent hours and hours working out, running steps in our college coliseum and preparing for college cheerleader tryouts… only to make it to the final cuts and then nothing.

Another disappointment.

Another rejection.

So, I dug deeper and pressed into what I thought was strength and courage… and to some degree it was.

But what I didn’t realize is that I was trying to achieve something BIG so I could avoid the noise of every NO, every hurt moment, every disappointment in my life.

I was just putting on another mask.

Then it happened… all my dreams had finally came true.

I made it into the sorority I really wanted, made little sister, and drum roll please… I made college cheerleader!

Out of hundreds of girls that tried out, I made it.

I made it!

It was the proudest moment of my life, and I thought I had finally arrived.

The rest of my years at college were amazing, and I was living out a life I had always dreamed for… all the while still hiding behind the mask.

Don’t get me wrong, it was an incredible experience.

One I will never forget, and I am forever grateful to have had the opportunity.

But what I’ve learned about trauma is that it will always find its way back into your life if it’s not dealt with.

The Pattern I Didn’t Want to See

By this time, I hope you can see a pattern.

Unfortunately, un-dealt with trauma usually follows with more trauma.

Because when you’re broken on the inside, there’s nothing your outside can hide from.

You’ll continue looking for ways to mask the pain... you don’t even realize you still have. No dreams fulfilled and no goals accomplished can fix what’s broken inside.

Only God can.

And until you let Him heal your wounded soul, you’ll keep searching for something the world offers to try and fix it.

There’s a song that plays over and over in my mind, and if you haven’t heard it before, it’s definitely worth the listen. It’s part of what motivated me to share my story with you today.

It’s called “Does Anybody Hear Her” by Casting Crowns.

That was me… just me screaming for love and acceptance.

And that screaming became so loud inside of me that it was all I heard.

The Diagnosis That Marked Me

After I graduated, I thought I had finally found true love… only to find out that more than love found me.

I had begun a new job, a new relationship, and I was away on a business trip when I suddenly became ill. I was running a fever, having pains in my lower abdomen, and thought I was coming down with strep throat so I went to a doc-in-the-box.

He asked a lot of questions, one of which completely caught me off guard.

“Are you sexually active?” he said.

I reluctantly answered yes because, after all I’d been through in my past, I was not what I thought of as a “sexually active” person. I had been with only two boyfriends prior to the current relationship I was in, and for the most part, thought of myself as a “good girl.”

To my surprise, he said we needed to do a pelvic exam and run some tests.

Well… need I say more.

If you’re still here reading, you’ve probably heard the same thing.

That day my whole world changed again and marked me in a way I would never understand.

Now it wasn’t just a “scarlet A” I was wearing anymore… it was a “scarlet mask.”

A mask that I would hide behind for many years to come.

And, attached to that mask and the trauma, yes trauma... was the enemy of shame, condemnation, embarrassment, feelings of unworthiness, feelings that no one would ever want or love me, and more rejection.

Those sank deep within my spirit and became my identity.

The Closet Full of Pain

Several years after that unforgettable moment, I got married, had three beautiful children, reconnected to God… or at least the best way I knew how.

But due to all the un-dealt with trauma, and a very dysfunctional marriage, the lies of the enemy kept getting bigger in my life.

It was like I was packing a closet with more and more junk.

The closet was getting full, but outside the room was clean, neat and tidy.

And, no one knew what was behind the door.

The mask was still on.

Little did I know that one day I’d open that closet door, and everything would come crashing out on top of me like a raging river busting through a dam.

Our dysfunctional marriage is a whole other story, but all I can tell you is that two broken people will eventually end in more brokenness if God doesn’t come in the middle of it all.

Unfortunately, all that brokenness did get bigger for both of us… and it eventually ended our marriage.

Now I was left alone, raising three children on my own, and forced to move back home to my hometown.

It was one of the most difficult times of my life.

Nothing I had been through before, believe it or not, was as hard as this.

The Ugly Cry That Became a Prayer

But then… I broke. I mean I really broke.

My children were broken.

I was broken.

Our family was broken.

And then I had one of the ugliest cries of my life.

I cried out to God, on my knees, face on the floor.

I kept thinking to myself... if anyone hears me, they are going to think I’m dying in here. And I was.

I was finally dying to years of trauma, years of pain, years of rejection.

I had nothing left inside.

All I had was an ugly cry… a very ugly cry… and a prayer.

I prayed that day for family because I had no idea what family looked like anymore.

I prayed for laughter because I had spent the last seventeen years in tears, not knowing who the girl in the mirror was looking back at me.

I prayed for the roller coaster ride to stop.

I wanted Him… and in my life like never before.

I prayed for steadfastness in my walk with Him.

No more pulling Him off a shelf only when I needed Him.

I knew there had to be more.

I was completely undone.

But He met me there, on the floor.

Tears puddling beneath me like still waters in the rain.

The Words I Never Wanted to Say Again

And then… the redemption moment came.

But with it came the most dreaded, scary, fearful words I’d ever have to say.

The words I never wanted to have to say again.

For years I had prayed for God to heal me of that STD… but He didn’t.

And so, after reconnecting with my high school sweetheart and knowing I was in love, truly in love, I would have to tell him.

I didn’t have the courage to tell him face to face.

I was still wearing the scarlet mask.

So I picked up the phone and called him.

I said, “There is something that I have to tell you, and I don’t know how. I love you and I’m scared I will lose you, but you have to know this about me.”

He said, “What?”

I said, “I have a sexually transmitted disease.”

At first there was silence.

Then, in the kindest, most loving voice I’d ever heard, he said these words:

“I love you and if you have that, it’s ok. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and if I get it one day, we’ll have it together.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop at that moment.

Then the next words out of his mouth were simply:

“I know you have that, but God can heal you. Let’s pray.”

Over that phone call, he prayed for me.

I wept.

Years of rejection… years of unworthiness… and feelings of being unlovable came streaming down my face as I listened intently to every word he prayed.

It was short and simple, just asking God to heal me.

Then he said, “Do you believe He can heal you?”

I wasn’t sure I fully believed it was possible, but a quiet, broken yes came out of me… and that was the end of our conversation.

Doing It God’s Way

In being true to our faith, we made the commitment to put God first and wait till we were married to be intimate.

For the first time in my life, I wanted to do it God’s way.

No more striving. No more performing for love.

Just a heart surrendered to Him and His plans for the rest of my life.

Today, we have almost been married sixteen years.

We don’t have any sexually transmitted disease. There is not even a remnant of it.

We have a normal, healthy sex life.

We have five children together and four of the most beautiful granddaughters in the world.

But this isn't the end of my story.

Yes, I was healed, but God had so much more.

The Dreams That Wouldn’t Stop

My journey was long. It was hard fought.

But it wasn’t over yet…

On September 6, 2025 at our church’s women's conference ~ the first Big Ladies Conference, the mask finally came off for good.

No more scarlet "A". No more scarlet mask.

You see the STD had been gone for years, but the mask was not.

For several weeks prior to that conference, I had been having visions and dreams of being on a stage at a church.

Not necessarily our church… sometimes dreams are vague about details.

But I was on a stage giving an altar call for women who had sexually transmitted diseases to come down for healing.

I believed if God could heal me, He could heal them too.

In my dream, hundreds of women were flooding the aisles, coming down front for healing.

Then the dream ended, and I woke up.

This dream continued to happen three more times over the next couple of weeks.

And after the third time, I knew I had to share it with my husband, Chris.

I mean, there had been times before that I felt Holy Spirit would have me share at some point… but these dreams were so vivid I couldn't ignore them.

I shared what I’d seen with him.

Next thing I know he’s trying to call our pastors to tell them about it.

“NO!” I told him. “Put the brakes on! This is MY story, and it is the most difficult story I'll ever have to share... especially to people who didn’t know this about me.”

I loved his enthusiasm, but I knew I had to know when the time was right.

Reluctant Obedience

Two weeks after sharing that, I went to the conference on that Friday night.

Pastor Christa Smith was speaking on the story of being a “Debra.” It was amazing… but I left perplexed. Angry.

Angry at God... and I didn’t know why.

I didn’t understand at all.

I couldn’t sleep.

Waking that next day, I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to be there.

However, I had family in town and was awaiting the birth of my twin granddaughters.

And just the night before, I had already told my spiritual mother, Belinda, I wouldn’t be coming to the Saturday sessions.

I had every excuse in the world, NOT to go.

But, I had no idea what it was or why I felt I was supposed to go.

Already late at this point, I picked up the phone and called Belinda to tell her I had changed my mind and would be there.

I even tried to share with her about these dreams… only to finish and her say to me, “I’m sorry, it’s raining so hard I couldn’t hear you.”

I thought to myself, "This just wasn't meant to be. I just told her about my dreams and she didn't hear any of it." I was frustrated.

But with reluctant obedience… I went.

If you could have been a fly on the wall in my bedroom that morning, you’d have thought I was completely crazy.

I couldn’t find my bra. Tore everything out of my closet looking for it. Threw my hair in a ponytail, grabbed a shirt, put on some jeans… and ran out of the house like a whirlwind.

My husband just stayed his distance knowing I was in a mood and probably wondered why I was even going.

On the way there, I tried to talk myself out of it what seemed like a hundred times and almost turned around more than once.

I was already so late.

“Just Go.”

Sneaking in during the end of worship, I sat down on the fourth row next to Belinda and some wonderful ladies she had invited too.

Hayley Braun was the first speaker that day and her message about the power of the Holy Spirit was incredible to say the least.

Wrapping up, she gave an altar call and said something to the effect, “If you need to come to the altar and just pray… be with Him, come.”

Tightly gripping the seat in front of me, I said to myself, “I’m not going down.”

I was holding on with everything I had. I didn't want to go.

Then that still small voice inside of me said, “Just go.”

So once again with reluctant obedience I went.

I kneeled down in the darkest, most inconspicuous area of the floor near the altar... where I hoped no one would see me and just poured my heart out to Him.

I needed it.

I cried and cried.

It was as if years of wearing that mask were weighing me down to the point that I couldn’t hold it on anymore.

Now remember… I’ve been healed.

God has done amazing things in my life.

But as I said earlier, trauma can linger... even when we’re walking in His presence.

As I was praying, I felt the touch of a hand on my shoulder and a voice that was distinctly recognizable to me.

It was my beautiful friend. Someone who’d heard most of my testimony and had walked with me through some very difficult moments with our family…

It was my pastor, Pastor Leisa.

She continued to pray, and I cried as she prayed over me.

When she was finished, we stood up.

She gave me one of those hugs... you know the ones. The kind of hug that says, I love you. I'm here for you no matter what.

Then, after a few more encouraging words, she said, “Is that it?”

Again... a reluctant no came out of my mouth.

I said there's something God's laid on my heart and I don't know what to do with it.

I proceeded to tell her about my dreams, and about the mask I’d been wearing all these years.

She said to me, “Kristi, you have to share!”

I said, “But how… when? I’m scared to death to share this!”

She said, “You’ll know.”

Again I said, “But how?”

And in her gentle pastoral voice, she said, “I don’t know. Maybe it will come from the platform.”

Oh… those famous last words. You know the ones that you will never forget.

The Prophecy That Took My Breath Away

I pretty much fasted through my lunch at the altar... if that's a thing.

There was such a sweet presence of the Holy Spirit.

I didn’t want to leave.

But the next session was starting soon, and Revivalist Miriam Evans was speaking on the power of our testimony.

That one really hit me hard, and I knew why God had me there.

But hold on… that was just touching the tip of the iceberg!

At the end of her incredible testimony and lesson, she began prophesying over our pastor's... and our lead pastor in particular.

As I stood at my seat listening intently to every word she was prophesying, what happened next I'm not sure how to fully describe in words.

It was a word only Holy Spirit could bring.

As I'm watching the big screen, I witnessed Pastor Britt fall to the floor.

Miriam continued to prophesy over her. And as she did, these words came out of her mouth... these exact words left the tip of her tongue.

She said, “Sexually transmitted diseases are going to be healed by the POWER OF GOD!"

As you can imagine, I fell to my seat in awe.

I had absolutely no words. I was shaken to my core.

My whole body was numb by those thirteen words. Thirteen words that would change my life forever.

In all the years I’d been in church, I’d never heard ANYONE actually say the words “sexually transmitted disease".

It was taboo. You didn’t talk about it.

It was like saying a dirty word… but she said it.

Plain as day.

She said it from the "PLATFORM!"

Little did I know that Pastor Leisa had actually prophesied over me just two hours earlier. Neither of us knew it.

And in that moment, my life truly would never be the same again.

Never.

My mind racing with thoughts… thoughts about what Pastor Leisa had said to me just hours ago.

What to do now.

All that kept resounding in my head was the story of the woman with the issue of blood.

How she had suffered all those years.

Lost within a crowd of people, all she wanted was to touch the hem of Jesus.

All she wanted was to be healed.

I began plotting in my head how I would go to Pastor Britt after service and tell her we needed to get coffee so I could share with her my dream. All I wanted was to see women healed of this disease.

Leaving Pastor Britt, Miriam continued to prophesy over sicknesses and many different issues with some of the women in the audience. Then with an encouraging voice, she asked anyone who was touched or healed by the Holy Spirit to come share.

I didn’t feel led to say anything.

But then...

All of a sudden… (don’t you hate those kind of all-of-a-sudden moments) Pastor Leisa is standing at the end of my aisle motioning me to come out.

The Mask Came Off

Only God knew what it would take for me to share.

So feeling like I could throw up and shaking terribly, we went up in front of the stage.

It was nearing the end of the conference and ladies were closing their bibles, putting things together to leave.

I thought I to myself, "Maybe I have escaped the most humbling, and embarrasing moment of my life."

But then... another one of those.

Pastor Christa looks at Pastor Leisa and motions her to come up front to the microphone.

Still trembling inside, but at complete peace, I accompanied her to the stage.

It was a peace I still cannot explain to this day.

I knew it a Holy Spirit moment.

Pastor Leisa prefaced my testimony as she so eloquently does… and then I began to share.

Tears streaming down my face, I shared my testimony to hundreds of women.

Women I knew and women I'd never seen before.

Women looking back at me… no mask on.

Just me.

The real me.

Undone from the trauma.

Undone from the pain.

Undone from the scarlet mask.

And then these words came out as I looked at Pastor Christa and Pastor Leisa…

“Can I make an altar call?”

With a profound “YES,” Pastor Leisa shoved me onto the stage and Holy Spirit took over as I began calling women with sexually transmitted diseases down to be healed…

Healed of disease.

Healed of shame.

Healed of condemnation.

Healed of feelings of unworthiness and every other ugly lie that stigma and lies of STD's had been telling them.

Women came pouring out from their seats.

Masks off.

On the floor.

Letting Holy Spirit fill them with new life from their past.

I truly have no words for what I experienced that day.

A dream… a vision that God had placed on my heart... was unfolding before my very eyes.

And it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

I’m still undone every time I think about that day.

If You’re Still Here…

I’m not hiding behind the scarlet mask anymore.

I made a lot of mistakes along the way.

I lived outside of God’s will and suffered through many sleepless nights filled with tears.

I was a prodigal daughter waiting to come home to Him.

But if you’re here still reading, I want you to know that no matter where you are in your journey... even if you don’t know Him, He still heals.

I am living proof of that.

And the 50 to 100 women that came down front that day are too.

You don’t have to live behind the scarlet mask anymore.

He hears you.

He sees you.

He wants to heal you too... just like He did me.

And the best part is… HE REALLY CAN!

I can’t promise you your story will end up like mine.

But I can promise you that you will never be alone again.

You will never have to look in the mirror again and see the scarlet mask.

You are beautifully and wonderfully made... STDs and all.

And HE loves you just as you are.

I can't be silent anymore.

It was time to share my story, not for me, but for you.

The beautiful woman reading this right now.

The fearfully and wonderfully made woman that has a name.

And that name no longer has to be defined by her past.

Just like the woman with issue of blood.

She did touch the hem of Jesus and that one touch changed everything.

I touched the hem of Jesus that day and just like her, I can't be silent.

"A woman in the crowd had suffered for twelve years with constant bleeding. She had suffered a great deal from many doctors. and over the years she had spent everything she had to pay them, but she had not gotten better. In fact, she had gotten worse. She had heard about Jesus, so she came up behind Him from the crowd and touched His robe. For she thought to herself, "If I can just touch His robe, I will be healed." Immediately, the bleeding stopped, and she could feel in her body that she had been healed of her terrible condition.

Jesus realized at once that healing power had gone out from Him, so He turned around in the crowd and asked, "Who touched my robe?"... Then the frightened woman, trembling at the realization of what had happened to her, came and fell to her knees in front of Him and told Him what she had done.

And He said, "Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over." ~ Mark 5: 25-34 (NLT)

You see, for most of us, it's not one event in our life that marks us.

It's years of suffering through the pain of every hurtful moment... every heartbreak... every mistake.

And we carry it as though it was our best friend.

But just as the woman with the issue of blood, we come to a point when it's too great to carry anymore and we just need to reach out and touch the hem of His garment.

That's all it takes.

Just one touch.

It doesn't have to be pretty or perfect.

But you do have to reach out for it.

Because on the other side of your touch is His healing.

On the other side of your touch... there is no shame.

There is no condemnation.

There is no trauma He can't redeem.

HE CAN AND HE DOES STILL HEAL TODAY!

I am living proof!!!

Thank you for letting me share my story with you.

If you'd like prayer or want to share your story privately, you can email me at

sketchedinhishands@gmail.com.

May the Lord bless you and keep you. May He make His face shine upon you today.

And remember, we are all masterpieces being sketched in the Master's hands ~ Ephesians 2:10.