Loss of Faith

 

I used to have faith.

I had faith that truth would win. I had faith that the justice system would provide actual justice or fairness. I had faith that in general, people are good.

I have lost all of that faith. 

My faith in God held on by a thread when it was all over. The Bible tells us that “The Lord Himself will fight your battles- you need only be still.” (Exodus 14:14). I waited for God to take up the sword. I am still waiting.

When we got home from Florida, I told the kids that if anyone- a judge, a lawyer, a counselor- anyone- asked about what had happened, they had only one job: Tell the Truth. This has become our family mantra and our most deeply held value. That is all I ever “coached” them to do.

My first order of business was to deal with John. I started inquiring about when/how he would be charged with a crime. I was told I had to file a separate report on him- the DFS case had nothing to do with charging adults, and they don’t turn over info like that to the Sheriff.  I went ahead and filed a complaint right away with the Sheriff’s office.  I also stayed in close contact with my attorney regarding our custody case.

This is where things get confusing. I hope you can follow me.  There were now 3 separate cases going on for us, simultaneously: 1- - The prosecution of John for his crime of failing to report/prevent abuse in his own home. 2- The juvenile case that was pending against Adam. 3 - My custody case against John where my goal was to shorten the time he had with the children and obtain full legal custody in order to make my own decisions for them without him standing in my way, like he had with Adam. 

Here is how the case against John went:

I filed my report on him with the Sheriff. Shortly after, I heard he had gotten a lawyer and was refusing to answer questions. Then nothing. Crickets. For more than a month. I contacted the Sheriff, who said it had been turned over to the prosecutor. I called the prosecutor’s office and left messages, but heard nothing. Finally, I got someone on the phone who put me on hold and came back much later to tell me the prosecutor had shelved the case. This meant John would not be prosecuted. I asked if they could give me a reason why, since I filed the complaint. They said they don’t do that.

So for the moment, John was escaping any kind of punishment. I was flabbergasted. Floored. I can still feel the spinning in my head that went on for days after. When I came to my senses, I found out that we would be getting a new prosecutor for our county that fall. I pre-emptively reached out to her to ask for a meeting.

Here I must highlight an angel. There were several along the way. This person, who I will call Madelyn, was kind, compassionate, empathetic, and comforting to me. She teared up as I told her our story. She expressed her shared anger that things like this happen.  And most of all, she pledged to look into the laws deeply to try and figure out what we could do.

She stayed in touch with me as she investigated.

Finally, months later, she asked for a meeting with me. She was finally in elected office as Prosecutor, and I was ready to launch into action.

She told me that she had investigated and had met with prosecutors from other counties who she trusted, and they all came up empty. 

In our state, parents are not listed as mandated reporters of child abuse. Additionally, child neglect and child endangerment laws greatly favor parents over children in our state. Madelyn explained that all John would have to say is that he had discovered the abuse and took steps to protect Honey, and he would be off scott free.

She continued to be compassionate and was heartbroken that she couldn’t help me.

But there was nothing we could do.

In our state, if Honey had mentioned the abuse to a teacher, a counselor, a nurse, a childcare worker at church…almost anyone else…and they failed to report it, that person would receive a fine and possibly jail time.

But not her own father.

I felt angry every time I had to send her to his house. Our custody hadn’t changed yet and she didn’t want to go, but I was required to send her. She had to spend time with a man who had hurt her so deeply, and all along with the knowledge that he didn’t have to pay for how he hurt her.

So that ends Case #1.

Remember that all of these cases were running concurrently. In addition to that, I had Adam far away at a facility, and weekly video calls to do counseling with him. I began scheduling weekends to go visit him, but it was 4 and a half hours away, so it required a hotel stay and being away for a whole weekend. Legal action requires a lot of money, plus the fact that I still had 3 busy children at home and lots of events/commitments. It was difficult to make all of it work.

And then there was Honey.

My primary concern at the time was taking care of her. I wanted her to feel supported and loved and safe.

But then the nightmares started. The voices. The shadows in her room.  The extreme headaches. The anxiety and constant fear.

She told me that she just “Knew” Adam would “Get Her Again.”

Dark figures hovered over her as she laid in her bed.  Voices told her to hurt herself. She couldn’t sleep.

I rushed her to our pediatrician, who made a plea for the ONLY child psychiatrist in our city to see her urgently. She prescribed some meds to help the voices stop and to help the headaches. She diagnosed her with “childhood PTSD.”

More spiraling. More heartache. And as ever, more anger brewing in my heart and veins.

And it was ALL directed at John. Adam had upset me deeply and was having his own consequences, while also admitting what he did and trying to get better.

John has, to this day, done none of those things.