Wednesday, October 10, 2012


For over a year now, my family has been waiting on Kentucky’s legal system to walk through its lengthy process, dealing with a church that, for whatever reason, refused to investigate its ranks for other possible incidents in such matter, and doing our best to simply find peace in our belief that God’s hands had it all in control. Yesterday the gavel came down and the offender is looking at fifteen years, however that works out with the various options attached to the ruling. We sat in the court room for nearly two hours as various individuals faced the judge for a final ruling, as it happened, our concern falling last on the list before her. Some were brought into such space via a door to one side. All of those were handcuffed and wearing prison attire. Others were seated here and there in our midst, wearing an ankle monitor, I suppose, to insure their attendance, but free otherwise. Their conviction would amount to some sort of ordered program or perhaps a loss of freedom other than being confined to a cell. Two were being sentenced for robbery, one a mother on drugs, the other a father of eight with other problems. The latter stepped up from our section, but was shown through the other exit when he departed. Most there had addictions of some sort, one an old man of seventy, a truck driver hooked on heroin and cocaine pleading for a chance to get his retirement. He was told that if she had known how much money he had in such fund, she wouldn’t have assigned him a public defender! To be truthful, I’ve probably seen far too much television drama along these lines and was expecting a different scenario. For the most part, this was “cut and dried”. Each of the guilty parties would make a plea for mercy. The lady in black would then look them straight in the eye and told it just like it was. Will it be any different when we stand before Him, I wonder, each of us with our own theory, our own version of chapter and verse. People, of course, have the right to ride whatever horse they wish in “crossing over”; but my trust is in a risen Savior, my assurance gained through a tangible witness here and there along the way. The relationship is not taken for granted; indeed, this old man gets his passport verified on a regular basis. Better safe than sorry……

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