When we arrived home from vacation I had a red, white and blue piece of paper awaiting me; I was being summoned for jury duty for the second time in three years. I served on a jury six months after we had moved to the area and it appeared it might be my time again.
That time, Goo Goo was in town and kept Sawyer for me while I was away. This time…well, I feel like the court picked the busiest week in the history of the world to hold district court. We don’t trust our kids with just anyone…and rightfully so…and it was becoming a challenge to find care for them. Our lovely neighbors came to the rescue on Monday and kept them for jury selection day.
The week leading up to my report date, I felt like I was in denial. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave the kids. I was hoping it would get cancelled. No such luck. A friend texted me and reminded me that maybe the Lord had me there for a time such as this…so off I went, verbally submitting myself to Him, as a reminder to myself if nothing else.
There were about 100 potential jurors and before we had our first break so the attorneys could look over the juror questionnaires, they had excused 10 or so people because of conflicts of interest, 10 or so people that worked in law enforcement or social services, etc. After the break, they dismissed 20 or so after reading their questionnaires. They then sat 25 jurors in the box and then had to have private meetings with them. When one was dismissed, they were replaced with another. During this time, I’d say close to 30 people were excused for one reason or another during the private meetings or for wheat harvest or one reason or another.
It was around 3:30 in the afternoon and the attorneys were just about to dismiss each of their six choices…when the judge dismissed one last individual who was replaced by a gentleman who asked to be dismissed so he could finish his harvest. And? You guessed it…my name and number were called to replace him.
At the end of the day, I was chosen to sit the jury. We knew from the moment we walked in that it was a child sexual assault case; a grandfather was being accused of repeatedly engaging his grandson in unwanted sexual acts. I wasn’t looking very forward to the testimony…at all. It was a hard, confusing, frustrating week.
There were testimonies that made your stomach turn…testimonies that made you question whether the boys’ parents should’ve been on trial for poor parenting…facts and figures that made you shake your head…things that were hard to follow because a child’s memory and concept of time is only so good.
At the end of the day, after five hours of deliberation, we found the defendant guilty. It was the right choice, no question – but still hard to make. We had to remember though, that the defendant chose this…not us. He chose this the first time he sexually abused his vulnerable grandson and he chose this for every time he did so after…for three. solid. years.
I am spent; my heart is heavy and my head hurts…though what I’m experiencing is not nearly as bad as what the victim has been through.
As we left the courthouse, the sky had clouded over and rain was just beginning to fall, almost as if the heavens were weeping for the victim.
I have been praying for you from the first day of this ordeal and commit to continuing to do so. I pray that you receive the help that you need to get past this and to quit blaming yourself and to heal. I pray that your new community would embrace you and not bully you. I pray that your parents, especially your step-dad, would truly understand the trauma you have experienced and will have grace with you. I pray that you would know Jesus and that He would send someone that is worthy of your trust to disciple you for Him. I pray that you would be able to trust again. I pray that you would be able to sort out all of the confusion and shame and mixed emotions so that you can use your story to help others and be all that the Lord created you to be.