Dear Turner family,

A little over a week ago, I publicized some of my immediate thoughts on your family's controversy. I entitled it, "An Open Letter To The Mother Of Brock Turner." I desired to be the voice for each and every victim — specifically, for the unrecognized and manipulated woman that doesn't know where to go from here. I sincerely hope that that was accomplished. But now, we with nearly a thousand shares later, I believe it is time to let you in on the other side of the story.

I got a variety of responses. Many were even very positive — full of such passion and intent for the world around us. I must say, though, I was overwhelmed with the response. I still stand in absolute awe that 971 (currently, and growing) people would read my thoughts, let alone share them. I'm so thankful for every single contribution, whether it be in the form of an outraged parent or a heartbroken victim.

But of course, no one can chime in on controversy without some opposition, right? Within the past week, I read that I was too harsh and that my words were unnecessary, along with the insinuation that I was insensitive to the grief of Mrs. Turner. After reading this, my heart began to sink. I felt guilt and the need to thoroughly reflect my actions. Was it right of me to pursue publication? Was it necessary? Was it too much? Was it hurtful more than helpful? What if I came across condemning and unkind in the worst of ways? I began to severely question my own integrity and even greatly fear that others would get a tainted view of me just from one publication.

After a significant time of reflection, I was reminded that I can always be more — more loving, more sympathetic, more kind. There is forever room for more. But, I still do not take a word back. Why? Because what had happened to the victim was absolutely wrong, along with its justification. Nothing will change that and I certainly do not wish to sugarcoat such a monumental crime.

See, in America we're all about grace, but don't you dare say the word 'sin.' Now don't get me wrong. Grace is absolutely incredible. I could talk about it all day, and I can't even grasp the concept. At the end of the day, it's a part of this beautiful equation that will forever mark my earthly life and eternity.

But, we often forget the other half of that equation. We often forget that we can't give people half the message. We just can't keep sugarcoating the very things that are blatantly evil. The wages of sin are death, so why sugarcoat and justify the very thing that causes so much separation and destruction? And why fuel the fire to this dangerous cycle of enabling?

Oh, but grace. Not grace that lets you continue to live the very life that destroyed your own well-being and others, but one that empowers you to walk freely from those chains. The grace that is sufficient. The same grace that was enough for Paul, the chief of sinners. The same grace for Sarah, who laughed at the promises of God. The same grace for Moses, that questioned God. The same grace for David, that entertained an affair. The same grace for Hosea’s wife, that sold her body for money. The same grace for Lazarus, that was dead. The same grace for John, a lover of self-righteousness. The same grace for Noah, a drunk. That very same grace. Because here's the thing — Christ came for ALL. Not the select few, not just the self-righteous, not just for the ones that know they messed up, not just this person or that person, not for this or that group. He came for ALL.

I will never be able to adequately write about the beautiful inclusion of the grace of Jesus and I hope I'll never be able to.

"Here is a revelation as bright as the morning star: Jesus comes for sinners, for those as outcast as tax collectors and for those caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams," Manning writes in "The Ragamuffin Gospel."

"He comes for corporate executives, street people, superstars, farmers, hookers, addicts, IRS agents, AIDS victims, and even used-car salesmen."

All- inclusive, no questions asked, grace fully extended.

It's crazy, incomprehensible, scary-messy even. But it leaves the question that there is healing at the feet of Jesus for any circumstance, no matter how messed up or hopeless it seems. There's restoration for you — criminal, rapist, enabler, justifier — there's grace in the midst of each and every label you find yourself wearing.

In Christ,

A daughter of The King

Writer's note for my ladies: There's grace upon grace for you. Please don't you ever forget that. It doesn't matter what you were wearing. It doesn't matter how many drinks you've had. It doesn't matter how many excuses come flowing out of his or his family's mouth. It doesn't even matter if he lives his whole life with humiliation and agony in reflection of his actions, or if your name never traces his mind in his lifetime. It does not matter.

You can become joint heirs with Christ, and none of that will ever define you if it tried. Absolutely believe and pursue that infinite truth. And please do dial the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 if needed.

My prayer to anyone who's reading — whether it be the family of Brock Turner, the victim or anyone in between — may grace meet you exactly where you are and may you never be the same.