#25. There Is Power In Our Words

Last week had a theme in my life, power in our words. I said that to Ray one day during a porch sittin’ chat while discussing healthy communication, then repeated it to Austin when we were talking about the way we speak to and about ourselves. Then on Wednesday evening when I got to Bible study, I’ll be danged if that wasn’t the topic we studied!

I spoke about accountability in my last post, and I’ve really been trying to stay true to myself in sticking with my goals. I finished the leg/glute challenge, and it felt amazing proving to myself that I could do something that I didn’t think I could do. Working out for 30 consecutive days (minus Super Bowl Sunday) is no joke! In addition to that back in December I decided to get a jumpstart on a New Year’s resolution that I’ve been telling myself for years I was going to do anyway, and that was to read the Bible all the way through. I’ve tried in the past but would inevitably get frustrated because I’d end up confused which ultimately led to me giving up, putting that goal on the shelf for another day/year. This time I’ve been reading it on the Bible App in chronological order and while it’s still not easy, it’s holding me accountable to myself and reminds me every day that I’m “on-track” with my goal. Let me add here something that I’ve also struggled with in the past, but thankfully have learned since. When you’re reading through the Old Testament about all the laws that God gave His people back then, that was all Pre-Christ. Especially in Leviticus! On Valentine’s Day I was reading in Leviticus about how The Lord declared that when they made blood sacrifices, they were to drain all the blood from the animal before putting it on the alter and that they mustn’t consume any blood when eating, and if they did the priest had to declare them unclean, or if they had a blemish or a sore they had to go outside of town and shout for all to hear, “Unclean, unclean.” I was disturbed after all that to say the least. That night Ray and I went to dinner at a steak restaurant, and here’s my confession… I prefer my steak rare/medium rare. So, as I’m enjoying my bloody steak in my mind I’m thinking “unclean, unclean” and so thankful Jesus came and saved me from having to yell it out in public!! Before I had a better understanding and I would try to read through all of that, I’d literally feel so convicted, I imagined myself shrinking, almost like into my own shadow and thinking no way was God going to love me because I couldn’t even follow the “basic” Ten Commandments, much less all of those strict and terrifying decrees that He handed down all those years ago. The kicker here is, if you don’t already know this, they couldn’t follow them either! They failed miserably over and over again, and they were God’s CHOSEN people! What a relief to know that even they let Him down and though He judged them harshly many times, He also delivered them to the promised land in spite of themselves. But He didn’t stop there because either did they, they continued to sin/defy Him, so what did He do? He sent His Son to die for ALL of our sins, to save every one of us who are willing to let Him. THAT kind of love I understand, the love a parent (our Heavenly Father) has for their children. Anyway, adhering to these goals I’ve set for myself has created a new habit in me I realized, when I didn’t work out last weekend. So now my new goal is to work out five days a week. I made myself a chart to keep track of what I do every day and it’s so satisfying to check it off after each session. I’m finding that holding myself accountable, doing the things I told myself I was going to do, isn’t just making me physically stronger, but mentally as well. There is power in my words! That revelation has brought me full circle, back to where I left off in our story, there’s also power in the things you don’t say….

After I was able to breathe again after Faye’s unburdening, I told her I needed time to think and texted my sister-in-law to cancel our plans (the last ones we’d ever make) and called CeeCee. I was reeling again, unable to wrap my mind around the realization that not only had Alex been victimized, but so had my daughter. My daughter who’d been in anguish and struggled through most of her teen years, who’d been suicidal and carried the weight of it all in silence. I knew the anger was in me somewhere, simmering just below the surface, but the shock was back and in the driver’s seat in that moment. I could barely look at myself in the mirror when I went to the restroom before I left, nor could I look at Ray when I told him I’d changed my plans and was going to see CeeCee. It’s only occurred to me in this moment, how profound that is. I couldn’t look at me/us at just the mention of it all, what perspective that gives as to how the girls must’ve been feeling their entire lives, or at least since they’d been old enough to know better. Their innocence, the very thing that we as their parents had been trying to preserve had been taken from them by not someone we just trusted, but by someone who should’ve been protecting them right beside us. I wanted to scream, and I did some here and there when it got to be too much. I said all the bad words, called people the meanest names I could think of, made idol threats and even investigated imprecatory prayer. *Definition* Imprecatory prayer refers to a type of prayer in which the person praying calls upon a higher power, typically God, to bring judgment, curses, or harm upon others. In imprecatory prayers, individuals often express feelings of anger, frustration, or a desire for justice, seeking divine intervention to address perceived wrongs or injustices. These prayers are characterized by their intense emotional content and the invocation of divine retribution or punishment upon individuals or groups perceived as enemies or wrongdoers. They are found in various religious traditions and texts, often in contexts of conflict, oppression, or perceived persecution.* As a Christian I now understand that when Jesus died on that cross for us, it wasn’t just for me, it was for ALL of us, and that also meant trusting that The Father was in full control of every bit of what we were dealing with, not us, as bad as I wanted to take matters into my own hands. I wanted justice, whatever that looked like. I also wanted to run away, to pack up my family and just disappear. None of those things were real though and I knew it. One step at a time Melissa.

After I met with CeeCee and she talked me off the ledge, I went home and spoke with Faye and Alex. Ray had rented a tractor that weekend to begin dirt work for the pond we’d been dreaming of and had been on it all day, so he was exhausted and had gone to bed fairly early which worked out in our favor. We conspired together and came up with a semblance of a plan. We needed to call Erin. I had a sinking feeling that it was highly likely that if he’d done these things to Faye and Alex, they presumptively weren’t the only ones. When Erin had arrived and the other girls shared with her what they’d gone through, we then asked her if it had happened to her as well and it was as if all the air was sucked out of the shop. That’s where we went to have the discussion in private, we weren’t ready for any of the boys to hear it yet. I could see the horror surfacing as she processed what she’d just heard. After much deliberation, she couldn’t say definitively whether she remembered anything like that happening to her, she said she felt like if it had, she’d suppressed it deep within her. As we reflected on that, it occurred to us that he hadn’t had as much access to her as he had the other girls, so maybe nothing had happened to her. I told her that we didn’t need to try to dredge it up anyway, because it was needless to torture her for no reason. We sat there for about three hours that night, speculating on how we were going to move forward, how we thought their daddy and brothers would react, and everything that would come after that, until we were all delirious from exhaustion and decided to call it a night, because tomorrow would be yet another day in hell…

The next morning, I hem-hawed around, avoiding the inevitable as long as I could. I was watching Ray who was back on the tractor without a care in the world and thought to myself that everything he thought he knew about his family was about to be changed forever. Again, I felt physically ill, how was I going to do this? Tell him everything I’d found out and carried around for what seemed like forever, and knowing that once I did, there was no going back. Even though we were well past that point, it still felt to me as if I was systemically dragging each person I loved into this pit of demise and bottomless misery. I’m not sure how long I stood there watching him out that window, before I was able to make my feet move. I still had on my pajamas, put on my rubber boots, said a prayer and headed for the pasture. I can still see the smile on his face as he turned the tractor in my direction and saw me approaching, oblivious to what was coming. He pulled up beside me and shut it down, and I told him that I needed to have a very serious conversation with him, and I needed to have it right then. In his ever-stoic manner, he didn’t ask one question. He got down off that tractor and followed me into the shop. I’m not exactly sure what the exact words were that I used, but I do remember the look in his eyes as I told him everything. I know him almost as well as I know myself. I could see it all unfold, in real time, right before my eyes. Shock, disbelief, denial, realization, dawning, clarity, heartbreak, fear, anger, fierceness. In that order. When I was done, he said, “I need to talk to the girls”, and I just said, “Wait here and I’ll get them.” I tried to be as quiet as I could, so I didn’t wake up Ray III, because it wasn’t time to bring him into the conversation just yet. But the girls had been anticipating this talk and all three of them came barreling down the stairs trying to gauge any reaction Ray might’ve had from me as they did. I was too distracted by attempting to ease their discomfort to realize that they’d woken their brother up. We’d barely gotten settled into our seats when he came out to see what we were up to. Since then, I’ve tried to imagine what that must’ve looked like to him, the only one in the house not invited to participate. As soon as he came through the door, both Ray and I told him to go back in the house and that we would come and get him when we were ready for him. The crushed look on his face was a punch to my gut, and then I realized I should let Austin know to come over as well. I’m not exactly sure what my text said, but when he did show up, he was barefoot and running full speed ahead and his little brother was right on his heels, defiant to us to tell him to wait in the house again. The girls had answered all of Ray’s questions and he’d apologized repeatedly as they answered with humiliation and embarrassment palpable in the air. The five of us were sitting in a quirky semi-circle and we told the boys to grab a chair and come join us. As I watched them coming toward us, untainted by the knowledge of the horror that came from knowing, I again was struck by how this would change them. It’s funny how you can see something like that as plain as day and know the truth in it, but still not at all be prepared for the aftermath. That’s how I refer to this now, that was before, this is after. This time I let Ray drop the bomb, I honestly couldn’t say the words again. I hung my head the entire time he was talking. I couldn’t look at any of them, my tears were sliding silently down my face. Ray was crying too as his voice shook while he spoke. Ray III was sitting next to me and I swear I could feel the heat emanating from him, I took a quick look at him and the veins in his head and neck were grossly distended, and his fists were balled up in his lap. Across from me I could see Austin’s foot bouncing as he’s prone to do in an uncomfortable situation. When Ray fell silent, Austin jumped up knocking his chair over as he began to pace and shout, “WHY? I WANT TO KILL HIM!” In that moment, I could see Ray III out of the corner of my eye, it was as if it was all happening in slow motion, and he yelled, “WHY HAVEN’T WE?” Ray and I immediately started to attempt some sort of damage control, trying to reason with them. I told them that we would NOT be letting him, or this situation take one more thing from us and that meant keeping us all out of prison for murder. I think that statement and the tone in which I delivered it, somewhat brought them back to earth. Austin sat back in his chair, and we all sat together for I have no idea how long, but the together part was what mattered. We were finally whole for the first time since it had all been revealed, and it instantly felt like we would be okay, because we had each other.

Later after we’d mosied our way back to the house, somehow it was already late afternoon, and everyone was starving. The kids had decided pizza sounded good and all five of them piled into Austin’s car and went to pick it up, leaving Ray and I alone which we needed and so did they. I wasn’t in that car, but I’m certain the conversation was probably them worrying about us and what would happen next, and the same thing was happening on that porch between us. As we watched them make their way down the driveway together, I turned and asked Ray, “What happens now?”, to which he replied, “I’m going to confront them tomorrow.” Them being his parents. I asked how he thought they’d react, and he said, very matter-of-factly, it would go one of two ways. They’d either completely deny all of it, or it would be a murder/suicide situation. As the words were leaving his mouth, and again now as I type them, a chill rolled through my bones. We had all speculated whether his mother knew, or how she couldn’t know, but hearing that Ray believed his father would take her to the grave alongside him, terrified me on a whole new level. Why would he stop there? What if he got his gun out while Ray was there and turned it on him as well? Here came the fear again, taking possession of every breath I took. No way was I letting him go alone and I told him so. He said, “You’d really go with me?”, and although my sanity was screaming “NO” in my mind, my mouth said, “Absolutely”, and we both began to cry again.

Isaiah 42:6 NIV I, The Lord, have called you in righteousness; I will take hold of your hand.