This is gutsy. But I’m doing it.

Buckle up.

From Stronger the book.

1996: Owensboro, KY

So we were at the Executive Inn for a Friday and Saturday weekend extravaganza. I am struggling to remember the Friday night artist, but I think it was Vestal and Howard. They gave us a large oil painting and autographed it to us that night. Sweetest thing I have ever seen. Dottie Rambo was coming the next night. Friday was a huge success, and we had rooms to stay in at the hotel for the weekend. We had enjoyed our late night dinner with friends in the restaurant, and now we were headed to bed. All of the kids were with us except Krystal. She had given me some sort of story that I questioned, but I was to the point that my hands were tied. I had no proof; it was all speculation. Edie wasn't with us, but she was safe at a relative's house. So I checked off my "where is everyone?" list and went to sleep. flowy Greek style dresses for prom

At 3:15 a.m., the phone rang. I thought I was dreaming, but finally, I awoke. The voice on the other end said, "Ma'am, this is Officer Smith with the Bristol police department in Bristol, Virginia. Do you have a daughter who’s petite, blonde, and would be in Bristol?"

I couldn’t do this. I quickly handed the phone to Doug (Gerald). I couldn't get news from a police department about Krystal. I couldn't do this. I started crying, having a meltdown. I thought she was dead. After hearing a few sentences of dialogue I decided that she wasn’t dead, just injured. I grabbed the phone back. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! I was hyperventilating. Jesus, help!
The officer said, "She's alive, but we need to talk. Okay?"

I agreed to compose myself and was trying to believe what he was saying—the part about “she’s alive.”

He said, “Your daughter is in the emergency room here in Bristol. Apparently someone gave her some bad drugs that were heavily laced with a hallucinogen. She was hallucinating and ran out into the traffic. She crossed eight lanes of traffic, running erratically. She wasn't fully clothed. Several people called the police. They were very worried that she would be hit by a car before we could get her.

They kept calling and saying she had no sense of where she was and was just running and running!”
By this time, I was crying again. I told the officer I should hang up and leave. I had to go to Bristol, now!

He said, "Wait and hear me out. We arrived at the area where she was running through traffic, quickly grabbed her, realized she was hallucinating, and got her into an ambulance.

She was breathing shallow and starting to be fearful. I asked her what her name was. All I could get out of her was, ‘My momma is at a hotel in Owensboro and my family is in ministry.’

She then asked me to lay hands on her. I prayed for her, but it appeared that I wasn’t rebuking the devil with enough authority. I could tell she expected a Pentecostal prayer, but I’m a Baptist. I prayed like I know how to pray. She was obviously very afraid that she was dying. She even asked me if she was going to die.

Evidently I wasn't convincing enough with my prayers, because she started praying for herself. She was rebuking the devil and telling him that he couldn't have her soul. She kept saying, ‘I plead the blood of Jesus, I plead the blood of Jesus!’ Ma’am, she touched God. She immediately got better. I will never forget this night. I have never seen anything quite like this.”

I was in a puddle of tears by now.
He continued, “Miss Kathy, I don't know you. I have never heard of you, but this I know: I was on that run for a reason. I am a believer. I am a Baptist, and maybe not Pentecostal enough to lay hands on people without being told to, but I know this much.

I called directory assistance for a hotel in Owensboro. They gave me this hotel first. I asked the switchboard operator if there was anyone staying there who’s in ministry. She said, ‘Sir, there are 800 rooms here, but wait, I may know who you're looking for.’ She rang your room. You answered. You are her mom. With two clues and two minutes on the phone, I found you. This is about your daughter. I need to tell you more: it appears that she has lost her way, but when she was looking Satan in the eye, she started rebuking him. She went straight for the blood! Whatever she's going through, never forget what I am telling you tonight. She understands the power of the blood!”

This conversation would be my go-to for the next few years. It was God who put this man there to convey this information to me. God assured me that night that she was promised to me, that she would someday get it right. He also allowed me to see that deep down in her soul, Krystal had the hidden key to life figured out. She knew how to pray for herself.

When the room was dark and everyone was gone, she had learned to draw the “bloodline”! She understood the power that we possess in the tongue, the rebuke, that authoritarian stance that positions us, the blood bought, in a superior role over our enemies. Simply put, she understood the blood. The struggle continued, but the blood would cover it.

With this, he gave me a number to call to get an update on her condition. I got up and got dressed and readied myself to leave.

I called, and the hospital information person told me, "Some man came and got her. He had been in jail for giving her the drugs, but he made bond and picked her up!"

I highly suspected the man was the wealthy businessman . It had to be him. I knew his wife and dad. My next call was to the wife, followed by a call to his elderly father. Sin is sin, and truth is truth. I wasn't sure how long it would take Krystal to get over it, but I knew that I was required to tell the truth, even when it was about one of my own. The wife divorced him.

Krystal moved out of my house and took Eden with her. It broke my heart, but I couldn't stop her. The relationship with this man lasted for a short season. Sadly, it appears that he never found peace. Many years later, this man chose a dramatic ending for himself. On his 60th birthday, he prepared detailed directions for his employees regarding what they should do upon his death.

He then called 911 and told them to come and check out the garage area of the dealership, that they would be needed there soon. Then, he went to the wash bay and shot himself. He shot himself in the dealership he had grown up in, inherited from his dad, who had inherited it from his dad.

It was the dealership where I worked, the property where I met Adam, Aaron, Terah, and Jason, and the location of years of labor for me and my friends. It became tarnished by the self-inflicted gunshot wound of this troubled man on his 60th birthday, the man who enticed my young daughter, the man who thought Christians were crazy. He ended his legacy in a manner that made an entire city gasp. He seemed tormented, and that truly made me sad.

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Krystal? God had her. His promises are true. ? ? ?

As you can see: This story ended well for her. God.

And yes. That’s a pot full of oil in the picture. She was anointing the feet of every woman that came to “Miracle On The Mountain” in November.

She understands the oil, the price we pay for our praise, Krystal May Lawing gets it.

She knows what God can do. And yes, she knows how to pray.

Want to come be with us at Stronger? We’re hope dealers, faith peddlers. Why? Cause I know what I know.

Go here ⬇️ to sign up. Come one, come all.

Freedom awaits.
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