Confessions of an 8th grade killer
Nancy Kennedy
Note: This story is adapted from my book, “Move Over, Victoria, I Know the Real Secret.”
We’re going through the Ten Commandments at my church and we recently hit No. 6, “Thou shalt not murder.”
It reminded me of my first premeditated murder. I was 14.
I don’t remember her name, just that she was a scrawny blonde who stole my boyfriend in 8th grade.
His name was Scott. Silky blond hair. Played football.
I was in love, sure I would one day become Mrs. Silky Blond-Haired Scott.
Then she showed up and ruined everything.
Technically, he dumped me before he ever met her. But that’s not how I like to remember it.
After all we had meant to each other, I knew I had to win him back.
So I killed her.
Trashed her reputation with preteen vengeance, spread lies, told everyone she was awful. I was sure Scott would come running back the moment he saw her for who she really was.
I was right. He came running — bringing his friends with him. They ambushed me on the football field, one by one telling me what a horrible human being I was.
Turns out the only person I made look bad was me.
What I had thought would be sweet revenge turned out to be a bitter poison. When you’re in 8th grade and everybody hates you, you might as well crawl in a hole and die.
My only saving grace? It happened at the end of the school year. Just a few weeks of daggered stares and whispering behind my back until summer break.
It was sheer agony, not just being hated, but realizing how much unbridled hatred I could harbor.
And yet, I blamed her. It was her fault. She made me like this.
I know better now. I know that I am capable of incredible evil, including murder.
Jesus said anyone who is angry at another person without cause, or even calling someone a “fool,” is guilty of murder (Matthew 5:21-22).
The Heidelberg Catechism puts it this way: “In forbidding murder, God teaches us that he abhors the causes thereof, such as envy, hatred, anger and desire of revenge; and that he accounts all these as murder.”
A few weeks ago, my pastor asked, “Are you currently holding a grudge? Are you bitter? Have you rejoiced over someone else’s misfortune? Anyone you feel is worthy of your indifference or contempt?”
Then he said, “It’s good for us to confess the seeds of murder that are in our hearts.”
He also said that this commandment not only means “don’t take a life.” It means we’re called to give life. “Not just spare others from our worst, but to give them our best, even our enemies,” he said.
That’s impossible to do on our own. We don’t naturally possess love for those we hate.
But in our confession, God forgives and “cleanses us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).
We love because God first loved us. “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).
His mercy enables ours. His grace makes us gracious, even to our enemies.
The good news is, I haven’t intentionally killed anybody since 8th grade. (But I’ve come close.)
Thankfully, Jesus saves murderers — even the ones who kill only in their hearts.
