When no one comes to save us

More than 10 years ago I decided to write a book almost no one reads after 2 years of fighting for consequences for Charles.

He had dodged mandatory sentencing when the local DA chose to not charge him with any of the more serious allegations against him—multiple, aggravated sexual assaults.

We had been lied to and our victims’ impact statements disappeared.

Only one of dozens of public officials I contacted tried to “look into” our case.

We moved and I told myself I should just expect no help the next time.

I wrote a book so that the story would be there for others. I warned people it was not a fun book to read.

A year ago a friend called me and told me her young daughter had been brutally and repeatedly raped by a former MLB player who began coaching children when he retired from baseball.

The victim told a clear story of assault, abuse, and video recordings of abuse. She has always struck me as a very truthful person. The story she tells is cogent and strongly suggests she was not the only victim and that other young girls were raped and their rapes were recorded and shared.

The local law enforcement never arrested the alleged assailant. He was never charged with a single crime.

The local FBI cautioned the victim’s mother that she should not bother the local police with the story.

Here was an outcry which strongly suggested multiple minors had been raped and those rapes had been filmed and disseminated.

Nothing happened. The alleged rapist still coaches children.

After Uvalde I called the head of DPS and his receptionist sent me to a voicemail of the Texas Rangers. I have had no success in trying to help this family. They moved to another state but the trauma and threat remain.

And what about all the other potential victims? What about the possible footage of the rapes?

What should we all do

When no one comes to save us?

All our fiery words

I wasn’t there

But I have taught my girls to write things down real good, even if they, in their goodness, leave out all the vowels I would growl and punctuate myself

Lately I have been absent too much– attempting to complete my hostage negotiator certification

— I envy the flyboy his reckless invectives

If only he were just

Overturning tables in the temple

Not just

Staging some unforeseen tantrum

I want to tantrum too!

Put my street prophet beard on and stomp and rant

Shake this

dying world down

Bedtime stories

She tells me to tell the bedtime stories

One about a little girl shouting at the top of the stairs and the other about that little girl’s once-upon-a-time daughter

Shouting from the roof

Beginning her long history of aerial protests

In an attempt to give her daughters more of her I find the news report which shows both their parents together at an impromptu arraignment, the way other orphans might re-watch their parents’ wedding videos.

This is all we have–bits of dialogue and local news

And the dogged belief that one day the truth must indeed set us free

When the waters rise and waiting

Romans 13:8-12 NIV
[8] Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. [9] The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery,” “You shall not murder,” “You shall not steal,” “You shall not covet,” and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” [10] Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. [11] And do this, understanding the present time: The hour has already come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. [12] The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.

Destiny

When I was young and pretty we became foster parents. We met children for short and long times. Some stayed for years and some I wished had stayed longer.

Veronica was the baby we loved so much and were forced to relinquish. We offered to adopt all of her siblings. Destiny was her older sister, a beautiful little girl who had been through a lot by the time I met her.

Her mom died a few years ago and she contacted me, angry that I had written about her mom without really knowing her faults.

I knew some of her faults, but still cared about her and mourned when she died.

Destiny died the same way her mom did on Easter Sunday.

She was a beautiful young woman like her mother and her sisters.

What can I say? What can I do?

We all live flawed lives, but we still matter. We leave holes in the world for what was and what could have been.

Know Somebody

The argument simmered under the surface for years. The paternity of the little girl was questioned by her (alleged) paternal grandmother.

I don’t know how many times she made the argument, but when I talked to her all her sons were still living. She said the girl was the child of the identical twin brother.

Which either way woulda made her the grandma…

Never mind

She is my little girl now

I don’t like what happened to her mom in either life or death.

But I am grateful she is here with me

Spitfire pixie

Piercing

Matthew 21:37-40 KJV

[37] But last of all he sent unto them his son, saying, They will reverence my son. [38] But when the husbandmen saw the son, they said among themselves, This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and let us seize on his inheritance. [39] And they caught him, and cast him out of the vineyard, and slew him. [40] When the lord therefore of the vineyard cometh, what will he do unto those husbandmen?

Thrift Store God

I think about his robe, his beautiful, seamless robe. Like the Cross, its molecular integrity is gone by now–not in a cathedral somewhere, not in a tomb. They cast lots for it, so as not to destroy its value,

A thrift store God–

Giving us

A seamless robe

he paid full price

Advice for the dictator

Lately he doesn’t seem to smile much, hardly a surprise when his latest hobby is world domination.

I pray for him, but how?

How do you pray for a monster?

By acknowledging we are all monsters, only some monsters do not obey the voices in our heads which

Reduce cities to rubble and children to dust.

The advice is simple–

You are a man, just a man

And you are dying

You cannot, no,will not, outrun God

Repent and change

Leave everything but your soul behind and say you are sorry for what you have done

Replace your illusions of control with the acknowledgement of your weakness

For we are all monsters here

Debtors all to grace