Darrell Scott relives the worst day of his life over and over again.
He does it on purpose. He does it to save souls. He does it for God.
Scott suffered through the one thing that parents fear most: His child was gunned down in a place once considered safe.
Rachel, 17, was shot four times when two of her fellow classmates went on a killing spree April 20 at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colo.
Scott doesn't believe it was just a tragedy. He believes that God chose Rachel for a higher purpose. Her death was planned to awaken the souls of America's youth.
Although there are contradicting accounts of the story, Rachel is the one known in early news stories as the girl who was asked at gunpoint whether she believed in God. She defiantly declared she did before being shot.
Scott spoke at Mount Ararat Baptist Church in North Stafford yesterday, one of countless stops around the globe as part of his full-time mission to reach out to youth. He was the guest speaker at all three services, each of which was packed with about 400 people.
"If you learn to see through it, you're going to see triumph, not tragedy," Scott said. "This tragedy didn't catch God off guard. Sometimes, things don't make sense. See through every situation to him who is invisible."
Before his daughter's death, his life was normal. Scott worked a regular job in sales.
Now, he and his family tell Rachel's tale all the time, everywhere. For months, they have been on the road. This new calling consumes their entire lives.
Scott didn't look the part of a preacher yesterday. He wore blue jeans and a checkered, button-down shirt.
He looked like a dad.
Behind him loomed a larger-than-life picture of his daughter. The photo, taken shortly before she died, shows her smiling, head tilted.
He spoke of the day of the massacre at Columbine, which left 13 dead, including the two killers. It was the day Scott learned his daughter was dead.
"It was the most horrible experience of my life," he said. "You can't even imagine the feeling."
Through Rachel's diaries, mysterious statements to her parents and accounts from her friends, Scott believes his daughter knew she would die for a cause.
"She had a sense of destiny," Scott said. "She had a sense of purpose in her life. There is a peace in our house because we know God's hand was there."
Before she died, Rachel told her father he would see her one day on Oprah Winfrey's TV show. Then he was on the show, walking to the stage, and saw her picture.
"My knees buckled," he said.
"She told five people, 'God is not going to let me live long enough to get married,'" Scott said.
Scott was once a pastor of a small Colorado church. He said he knew Rachel was spiritual, but didn't realize the extent of her belief in God until he saw his daughter's elaborate diary entries.
He read entries to the Mount Ararat crowd.
"It's like I have a heavy heart and this burden on my back," she wrote. "I'm not going to apologize for my faith in Jesus. If I have to sacrifice everything, I will."
Earlier, just shy of one year before her death, she wrote: "This will be my last year, Lord. I've gotten what I can. Thank you for the light you put in me."
Scott displayed Rachel's drawings.
One depicted a cross, the religious fish symbol and the words "Jesus Christ." There was a rose growing out of another flower, a columbine. Drops of blood fell from the rose.
In her last poem, Rachel wrote, "All I want is someone to walk with me through these halls of tragedy."
Following a 4:30 a.m. epiphany soon after her death, Scott decided to speak out. He heard words running through his head: "You won't have to worry about what to say because I'll fill your mouth."
"I sat on the edge of my bed and I made a commitment," Scott said. "I said, 'God, I'll do what you want me to do.'"
That same day, he got a call from a businessman who agreed to help Scott spread his word, and the man now helps pay for Scott's Columbine Redemption, a nonprofit, nondenominational, Christian organization.
During their first conversation, the man told Scott he had just woken from a dream in which he saw Rachel's eyes streaming with tears.
Soon after, Scott's family got Rachel's backpack out of police custody. Inside was her final diary.
A friend saw Rachel sketching in it a half-hour before she died. Rachel drew a picture of eyes, crying 13 tears-the same number of people who died in the massacre. The tears landed on a rose.
"I know this has to mean something," Scott told the audience. "I realized that my daughter's life and death was not in vain. Countless thousands of teenagers and even adults have been touched by one girl."
As Scott told his tale, people in the congregation wept, some wiping their eyes, some bowing their heads, some sniffling.
His message especially moved the youthful crowd he wants most to reach.
After one service, a teen-age girl spoke quietly to Scott, teardrops welling in her eyes. He gently patted her shoulder.
Nearby, a teen-age boy's eyes were red and swollen.
Afterward, Scott said reliving the memory of Rachel's death takes its toll, but it is all worth it.
"I feel that God really has called me to do this, to pick up the torch my daughter dropped," he said. "Young people were deeply wounded by Columbine, and God has used this to open their hearts."
"This is what my daughter would have wanted to see. If I died right now,
I can tell you my daughter's prayer has been answered."