Tag: Diane and Chris’ story

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the VictimsLeave a comment

Entry Sixteen

By Diane S.

Broken.

That seems to be a word I often use to describe various things in my life lately.

My heart is broken. My life feels broken. My stepson’s spirit is broken. My mother-in-law’s heart is broken. My husband is a broken man on the mend. Our extended family has been broken apart as some have decided they just can’t support or even accept this situation. I understand that and I hold no fault towards them. Some can continue a relationship with me even though they don’t support my decisions & I am very grateful for the maturity on their part and mine to make those relationships work. Some have removed themselves completely because they can’t handle any aspect of the situation.

I understand  one of their concerns. I am not bitter towards them….anymore. My city is broken. This country is broken. The justice system in this country is VERY broken.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”  Psalm 147:3

All of the above mentioned brokenness can only be healed by Jesus. Unfortunately we live in a society where our leaders and politicians look anywhere and everywhere but Jesus for answers. In fact, they deliberately steer as far as they can from this very simple answer to all of this.

JESUS.

I don’t understand why that’s such a hard concept for people. Jesus. He’s the answer. It seems so easy that it is mind-boggling that people literally run in the other direction to avoid Him.

In the last week I have seen quite a few examples of just how broken the society we live in has truly become. My friend Tony just wrote an article on here called “Punishing the Innocent” and his article showcased some of the brokenness that I have not yet experienced just simply because my journey is so new. I am blessed to have such a wise friend who is always challenging my thoughts and making me look deeper into myself.

In my last post I mentioned how some people close to me reacted to finding out a sex offender was in their neighborhood. The reaction they had is so common, so normal, so broken. It is a reminder of society’s brain-washed mentality regarding ANYONE on the sex offender registry. It is like a scarlet letter. I never imagined I would ever relate with Hester Prynne on any level when I read this book in high school but I find the quote below to be quite accurate for not only the beginning of my journey but so many others with heart breaking stories just like mine:

“In all her intercourse with society, however, there was nothing that made her feel as if she belonged to it. Every gesture, every word, and even the silence of those with whom she came in contact, implied, and often expressed, that she was banished, and as much alone as if she had inhabited another sphere, or communicated with the common nature by other organs than the rest of human kind.” Hester Prynne in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “The Scarlet Letter”

If you want proof of just how broken the justice system is read through your Facebook feed or scroll through the top stories on Yahoo or MSN. The stories are endless, each with their own brokenness. I am sure if you aren’t living under a rock you have heard about the current storm The Duggar family from Arkansas is going through. My thoughts on that one still aren’t coherent. I just don’t know how I feel other than sadness for a broken family and its broken victims. I’m not sure I have an opinion on the appropriate course of action at this point. I do know that his wife and children are suffering a great deal from a mistake he made a very long time ago and that is so very sad for all involved. There is a lot of brokenness surrounding that story and I can’t imagine having to try to deal with that while in the public eye.

I offer them my prayers but I truly don’t know where I stand on the issue.

In the last 12 hours our local news stations have posted two different stories about teachers having sexual relationships with students. They were both on-going relationships. One teacher brought the student to their home and gave the individual alcohol on some of the visits. He was sentenced to 6 years in prison and the judge suspended all but SIX MONTHS! In the other case, the child was under 14 and the teacher served 6 years. Meanwhile in federal prisons across this country people are serving 8, 10, 15, or even 20 year sentences simply because they downloaded a file from a music sharing site and it had hidden inappropriate images in it. The government tracked these photos to these people’s computers and the consequences include broken men, wives, children, mothers, brothers, sisters….etc.

These are people who didn’t go searching for those photos, they accidentally got them & promptly deleted them when they opened what they thought was music or a movie they downloaded for their child. These people are the faces of an incredibly large number of the sex offenders sitting in federal prisons serving 5+ year sentences. Meanwhile, we have teachers having physically inappropriate relationships with children they are trusted to TEACH that are serving SIX MONTHS, or sometimes all they receive is probation.

It’s not just stories about sex offenders either. Not long ago there was a story out of Atlanta in which a professional sports player admitted to shooting and killing a 22yr old mother as she was walking down a street. He had no reason other than he thought she was someone else. His sentence was short and he will end up serving 4-5 years, FOR TAKING SOMEONE’S LIFE! It makes me irate.

These stories are endless….these stories are sad……..these stories show us just how broken we are.

I can’t understand this logic. It doesn’t make sense to me. I need someone smarter than me to explain why my husband is sitting in jail for 8 years while these people are serving less harsh sentences. I understand that a big difference is that a lot of the cases like I mentioned above are ‘state’ cases where my husband’s and so many others fall under federal jurisdiction. If you didn’t know, many federal convictions have mandatory minimums. This means nothing matters and you get at least the mandatory minimum for whatever your charge may be. In Chris’ case it was 10 years. C

Chris was a first time offender, never been in trouble with law enforcement a single day in his life. He had over 20 character reference letters and he had a good lawyer. It didn’t matter. All that matters is the charge and mandatory minimum sentence that goes along with it. My husband did make mistakes, there is no question. He should be held responsible for his actions, there is no question.

Should he serve jail time? Maybe, but not 8 years.

I have never gone into detail about my husband’s case & I’m not sure that I will. I will say that he didn’t have a physical relationship with anyone and his charges aren’t related to computer pictures. He made a very bad decision and then was accused of some horrible things. Together those two things made for an incredibly difficult situation.

It’s a very broken system when your best option is to plead guilty to get a 10 year sentence rather than try to prove your case and risk getting a 30+ year sentence if you don’t win. And you probably won’t win. People shut down when they hear “sex offender”; details and truth don’t matter at that point.

When I first read the stories I mentioned above I was angry. I was angry at God, I was angry at those people. I was just angry. Then I realized those people made mistakes and it’s not my place to judge them. I realized those people also have family and friends that now have broken lives because of someone else’s choices. They could have spouses that are living a journey like mine. I realized there are actual real victims of their crimes that now have broken lives.

I was still angry with God.

How can he allow the things that have happened to us and let other people like those mentioned above have such an easier journey? Why does our journey have to be so hard? I was driving home last when it all hit and I had a meltdown. I was actually driving in my car in tears and yelling at God and asking him why. Why couldn’t we have got a 6 month sentence? Why didn’t God intervene at some point and stop some of this, any of this?

Why did he allow all this brokenness in my life?

Asking why doesn’t ever get me anywhere. Eventually I calmed down when the song “Just say Jesus” came on the radio & that’s exactly what I did for a good 5 minutes. I just said “Jesus” over and over. Then I prayed. Then I was okay.

The wires in my head get a little crossed when I think about the truth that God has a plan for us that includes this next 8 years. He also has a plan for the teacher who will spend 6 months in jail, and a plan for the one who will spend 6 years there. It’s just so hard to understand why his plan for us had to include this 8 years while so many others do things much worse (in the eyes of the law) than what Chris did and his plan for them includes much less punishment.

If you don’t get anything else out of this post I hope you remember this: Not everyone, in fact probably the majority, of people that are registered sex offenders never hurt and never would hurt anyone, especially a child. They didn’t go down a street and offer an 8 year candy to bride them into their dark van with no windows. Anytime you say someone is a sex offender in this society that is what people immediately think and it is just NOT TRUE. Of course there are some who did commit horrible unthinkable acts but it’s such a broken way of thinking to lump all 800,000 people on the sex offender registry into that category.

One day I hope I will no longer be able to identify with Hester Prynne.

It all just proves my point….

This world is a very broken place in need of the healing of Jesus Christ.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the VictimsLeave a comment

Entry Fifteen

by Diane S.

Understanding.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”  Proverbs 3:5

Sometimes we just have to accept what we don’t understand and there is a lot in this world that I do not understand.

I like to have cause and effect and reasons to explain why things happen. I’m learning that sometimes there simply is none. Our minds are not capable of understanding the vastness and complexity that is God’s sovereignty and His plan for us. We don’t usually understand that sometimes God doesn’t do what we want because he has something better for us even though at that time we can’t see anything better.

We just have to accept these things without understanding.

I find that to be the case often in my life, where I just have to accept the situation without understanding. I just have to trust God and lean into him. I ask him – often – to help me accept the things I don’t understand. Sometimes the only comfort I can find is knowing that God is in control. God already knows every tomorrow. God loves Chris more than I do. If I think about those things, understanding the “whys” becomes less important.

I’m an adult and growing in my relationship with Christ. I can accept this theory of not understanding yet accepting.

However, my husband’s 12 year old son isn’t quite there yet.

We don’t know just how this will affect him for the next 8 years and the rest of his life. We don’t really know how it will affect any of us, but I know I have a strong foundation of faith, a growing relationship with my Savior and many Christ following friends who will pull me up at my weakest times. I’ll be ok. My husband will be ok too. We will both be changed forever but that’s okay because ‘…but God’. I pray my stepson will be ok too, but he is young and vulnerable & I worry. There is no way to tell how this will affect him and if he will learn to lean on God for comfort. Right now, he is just hurt and sad. He doesn’t understand. He can’t really accept it. I pray God gives the adults in his life the guidance we need to be able to help him through this with the least amount of pain possible.

Yesterday he posted a video on social media he saw on someone else’s page. It was a video taken while someone was talking to a homeless man who had been in prison for 12 years. This man talked of the struggles he has had since his release from prison and what brought him to the place he is now….playing his guitar for change in front of a gas station with no job or place to call home. I can’t imagine what a 12 year old thought as he watched that video. I talked with him about it made sure he knew that wouldn’t be his dad’s situation.

He said he understood and I hope that he did.

I’m just ‘the prisoner’s wife’. The ‘prisoner’ also has a son and a mother. The ‘prisoner’ has a sister and brother. The ‘prisoner’ has dogs. The ‘prisoner’ has family and many caring, concerned friends. And they have all been deeply shaken by this situation. I don’t know of anyone who truly understands how we got here. Yet, we all accept it on some level and continue on. Each of us hurt in very different ways. I know what it feels like to be a prisoner’s wife, but I don’t know what it’s like to be a prisoner’s child or a prisoner’s mother.

One thing I do know is that we each feel like we are walking through different degrees of our own personal hell on some days.

I don’t understand why God hasn’t intervened on our behalf in the last 18 months. I don’t understand why He has allowed all of this happen and hasn’t stopped it. I don’t understand why everything had to be taken away leaving me by myself at a rock bottom of sorts where I am 33 years old and I can’t afford to live in a place of my own. I don’t understand why the sentence had to be 10 years instead of 5. The list of things I don’t understand is quite long. I could go on for a while but I’ll stop here.

I don’t understand these things but I accept them. I can only accept them because I know God is in control and if He has allowed these things then they serve a purpose in His plan.

His plan is not just ‘good’. His plan is not even ‘very good’. His plan is not ‘better’.

His plan is PERFECT.

So I will wait patiently for the Lord’s plan to come together. He is always right on time you know. I will go where He leads me and do what He asks me. I pray that my heart can be open and receptive enough to not miss it when He tells me where to go and what to do. I am often scared that I will not be paying close enough attention and I will miss something important He is trying to tell me, show me or ask me to do.

“Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength” Isaiah 40:31

The story of Ruth in the bible is a very good story that illustrates how God always has a plan, even when we can’t see anything but darkness. Nothing can come to God’s children unless he allows it. If he allows it to come to you it is because He has a plan to work it together for your good and His glory.

This is the very reason I am able to accept my current situation without having the slightest bit of understanding.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the VictimsLeave a comment

Entry Fourteen

by Diane S.

Life Goes On   

“No matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.”    Maya Angelou

In truth life does go on.

I am not sure about the “better tomorrow” in literal terms, but I do know that there will be a lot of “tomorrows” that will be better. I just have to make it to those better ones. The days come and go, things happen, bills have to be paid, kids need to go here and there. Life does go on, even when you feel like yours has stopped.

Life goes on, just differently.

Today makes exactly 4 weeks since my husband’s surrender day. I feel like a lot and nothing at all has happened in those 4 weeks. I guess that is what happens when it feels like you are living life from the outside looking in, only doing the minimal to get by every day. It’s still very odd to try to grasp.

I’m still not sure how my life has turned into this. I am not sure how, but I do know why. God is teaching and preparing me/us for His plan. Not that I have any idea what it is, but that is the reason I find myself in my current situation even though I absolutely do not understand it.

I just pray for acceptance, not understanding.

The last 4 ½ days have seemed just a slight bit easier to get through. No breakdowns, not many tears. I don’t know if that is good or bad. I’m going to go with good. I’ve even made it to visit with friends a couple times and am starting a new Bible study at church tonight. I have a few other things on my ‘to do’ list as well.

I guess there can’t be a new normal unless I actually attempt to go on with life and stop living from the outside looking in.

Life goes on for Chris too. He writes & calls every day. He walks a couple miles a day on the track and has seen the crosses that a dear friend told him to look for. He has found that he can eat more things if he actually tries them, which is good. He reads his bible, watches TV, and hangs out with his cellies…life goes on, a new life, true, but it goes on nonetheless. Neither of us really has a new normal or a new routine yet, but we are making it. He found a Bible study that meets once a week in his unit last night and that is something I have been praising God for today. He attends chapel on Sunday nights.

Our letters seem to be the source of staying the most connected. He doesn’t enjoy writing as much as I do so my letters are usually much longer. The post office makes a lot of money off stamps from me when one letter takes 2 stamps. I try to make sure he will have a letter at every mail call but I am fighting a very slow small town post office and jail mail; so despite my best attempts he doesn’t get mail every day. We share Bible verses and encouraging things we read/see with each other and that is helpful too. It feels like we can connect.

It’s both sad and encouraging that life is continuing on. Secretly I want the world to just stop so I can too, but that wouldn’t do anyone much good. It’s good to have a feeling that this may get easier as time passes, but it’s sad to think I will ever be ok with a life that doesn’t involve my husband here with me.

Not that I have a choice.

It’s sad to know that life goes on for a 12 year old boy who dearly misses his dad and there is nothing I can do to fix that. Letters, phone calls and infrequent visits are as good as it gets. I don’t know if I will ever get over that heartbreak. Life goes on for Chris’ mom who moved her entire life 7+ hours from where she has lived for at least 30 years just so she can be near her son.

Life doesn’t stop just because ours did.

One bad decision changed everything for so many people. I still can’t get over how this has affected every aspect of our life and the lives of SO many people around us. It is beyond my comprehension that the repercussions of one bad decision can devastate things so completely. I often wonder how many people really think about what may happen when they intentionally make an unsavory decision. My guess is no. They probably think “no one will ever know” or they just flat out don’t think that far ahead about what the decision may cause until it’s far too late.

I have a brother who has been a corrections officer in a state prison and he once said, “The biggest difference between the people here in prison and us is that we didn’t get caught.” I believe that to be a very true statement. If you look back over your life, I am sure almost everyone can think of a time that things could have turned out very differently if you had been “caught”. It’s hard for me to understand how society can write off individuals in prison when, if they really looked honestly at themselves and their life, they could probably find that if one tiny little thing had happened differently they could have easily ended up in prison too. Yes, I realize not everyone has committed a horrendous crime, but there are A LOT of people in prison that haven’t either. I also realize that there are probably some who can look back over their life and not find one time when a bad decision could have turned out differently. I am not one of those people.

I have never robbed a back, kidnapped, or killed anyone but I can think of at least two times decisions were made that could have very easily ended with a mug shot.

Another thing I have found hard to deal with is how people view those who have committed crimes in the past. Just this past week some people very close to me found out a sex offender was living in their neighborhood. The reaction was typical. ‘Is it legal for him to live there? There is an underage girl living right next door?’ ‘How can a child molester live in a neighborhood with kids?’ These are people who love me and love my husband, but they are just like everyone else.

My husband is different to them because they know him.

None of them knows the story of the sex offender who lives in the house in that neighborhood, but they are all quick to judge. They may have good reason to be alarmed, I don’t know…but neither did they when they formed their initial opinions about this stranger wearing the label ‘sex offender’ living in their neighborhood. I found that to be a very eye opening experience. Society is broken, the system is broken, and lives are broken.

But life goes on.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the VictimsLeave a comment

Entry Thirteen

by Diane S.

Visiting Day                                                                                                                               6.1.15

It’s now been a full week since I visited my husband at his new living quarters for the first time. The thing that seems to keep coming up in most of the posts is the fact that I was unprepared. I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t even close.

I knew visits would be hard.

I thought there would be some happiness in the fact that I got to see him, talk to him, hold his hand, etc.   I try not to think much because I am usually not right. I kept telling myself that even though I am seeing him in prison it’s much better than many wives who visit a grave for their husbands. It really is too bad that the things I know to be true can run so far and so fast out of mind in the middle of a stormy situation. It’s usually not until after the fact that I remember what I told myself I was going to remember during the middle of the situation to help get me through.

A brief summary of my 3 days of visiting with my husband: they were sad, curious, a little small bit of happy, more sad, and the realization that I don’t think I will ever be prepared for anything coming my way in the next 8 years. It’s going to have to be a take as it comes type thing, otherwise I end up not being able to get out of bed for days. It doesn’t seem to matter how much I try to be prepared I never am so I think I’m going to stop stressing over it.

So here are some details about the actual weekend: We left at 4pm on the Friday before Memorial Day on our 6.5 hour drive to Chris’ aunt’s in Shreveport. My mother in law was concluding her move to Shreveport so she was in her car, I was in my car and off we went. We had a few hurdles, nothing major but when you get two women on a road trip there has to be a few “oops” along the way. After a detour through downtown Shreveport at 11:30 on Friday night around one of the biggest ‘mud bug’ festivals they have there, we made it to Chris’ aunt’s about midnight.

That’s a great time to get into town when you have to get up to drive 2.5 hours at 3am to get in line for visitation.

Let me say right here, I had greatly underestimated the dedication of these prison wives, mothers, fathers, aunts and uncles. We had “heard” people start lining up for visitation about 6am. We arrived to the ball field around the corner from the prison at 6:40 on our first day to visit. We were the 17th car in line. We weren’t sure we were in the right place, but you find many kind souls in the cars around you and they are more than happy to help out first timers. It turns out; visitors are not allowed onto prison property to the visitors’ parking lot until 8am. To circumvent that problem there is a very small ball field around the corner and you just pull up and get in a single file in your cars and wait until 8 am. And by wait, I mean you sleep until 7:30 and then get up and put on your make up.   At exactly 8am the first car in line starts their engine and line moves slowly from the ball field to the visitor parking lot at FCI Oakdale I.

Again, once you get out your cars here you find more nice folks who are happy to tell you how it works. In this case, it is important to notice who you are in line behind in the car line at the ball field because that is who you line up behind when you form your single file standing line at the edge of the prison parking lot.

You can find at out some really good information while standing in that line. We found out that a lot of wives get in line at 2-3am to make sure they are first in line. That’s dedication (most likely won’t ever be me). We also found out that if you aren’t in the 1st, 2nd or 3rd (on a good day) group of 10 in line you will likely not get processed in before the 10am ‘count’. The ‘count’ stops everything. If you do find yourself not being processed by about 9:30 you can take a seat on the ground because you won’t be going anywhere until after count clears which seems to be about 10:45-11am. We made it in before count on the first, after count on the second day, and before count on the third day. We haven’t found any rhyme or reason to the times people arrive. All three days we arrived at different times and all three days we were in very different spots. We have decided it’s just a game of chance.

We also found out that rules change….daily. The first day ladies were allowed to wear white pants in for visiting, the second day they sent them back out to change. ALWAYS have a complete change of clothes for everyone in your visiting party. The first day our bras were ok to pass the metal detector, the second day they weren’t but they gave us a warning. If you showed up on third day and couldn’t pass you didn’t get in to visitation. I think the prison and Wal-Mart right down the street has an agreement because after the second day we saw 4 other visiting groups correcting their bra situations by purchasing new ones before the next day’s visit. They also turned people away for not having the right shoes on the first two days but the third day several people were allowed in with sandals. I’m not sure how anyone could make sure they follow all the rules when they are different every day.

Overall the process to get into visitation is mostly painless; it just takes a little time. We figured out on day 2 that if someone goes in and gets the paper work you have to fill out and it’s completed when they call your group it does go much faster. Once you are called you go in, give them your id, do the metal detector, get your hand stamped (I still don’t understand the reason for that one) and then you are lead through 2 locked doors, across a breezeway, through 2 more locked doors and in a large room with 150 plastic chairs, and 6 vending machines. That is all the excitement for the next 6 hours. Well, other than trying to pick out the seat you think will be the most private in a room that large with many other people and then making the decisions as to what the menu is for that day from snack machines. You better go to the snack machines early, prison food must not be all that great because the food in those machines goes QUICK and it’s really not great food. Who knew chicken wings could be in a vending machine and just be heated up in a microwave.

Anyway…I digress.

The first day was the most difficult for me. I was in tears before my husband ever came in, and in more tears when he did walk in. The tears were off and on all day. He looked the same; he hadn’t even started to lose weight yet. He had got a haircut and pretty much shaved it all off, it was so short it didn’t look he had any hair at all. He had to pay 3 mackerels for that hair cut (we’ll chat about mackerels in another post). Leaving was HARD that day even though I knew I’d be back the next day.

Leaving that place and leaving him there WILL NEVER BE RIGHT. EVER and I HATE IT.

I had a complete and total meltdown later that night after we got back to his aunt’s house. It was an overwhelming sadness and sorrow I have never felt before. I had to leave his aunt’s for a while and just be alone to pray. Knowing that was the best it was going to be for 8.5 years is a very difficult thing to try to accept.

If wasn’t real before the first visit, it gets very real after it.

The next two days were better, we laughed, we joked, we talked, we held hands…it was almost normal, I guess it is the new normal. I don’t like it. I am thankful they aren’t strict and you can hold hands, hug and be close (within reason) throughout the entire visit. Very grateful. The worst part was leaving Monday afternoon, not knowing how long it would be before I would be able to afford another trip. It was heartbreaking. It was like saying goodbye the first day all over again. For two entire days I didn’t think I’d ever want to visit again. Entry Twelve went further into the horrible week last week was.

I almost let it take me down and not get back up, but I did.

The visiting room is a very interesting place. I learned that once in the visiting room you don’t talk to the people you made acquaintances with in line. In the visiting room it is you and your inmate, no one interrupts anyone else. It’s almost like everyone has a little bubble that appears around them and their visitors and no one really notices anyone else. Even the inmates that know other inmates don’t say more than “what’s up”. It appears it’s an unwritten respect that everyone knows and follows. You also know by the second day that some people must come there often and have certain seats they sit in. So you don’t sit there if you see those people in line for visiting.

I have a curious mind, a very curious mind.

My mind wandered all day wondering what brought all these very different men to this one place. Everyone has a story. You see these men with their wives (that you probably talked to in the waiting line) and kids and how they light up when they are with them and it’s hard to imagine they did something that truly warrants them being there. Then again, I sit in the same room visiting my husband. I observe a lot, like the guy who had a different woman visitor every day and they all appeared to be his girlfriend by how friendly they were.

I probably observe too much actually.

There is a lot to observe, there is also a lot of hurt in a lot of eyes you see in that room. I came to the conclusion that overall the visiting room is a happy place, at least most everyone puts on a happy face. Everyone seems genuinely happy to be there and be able to spend time with their inmates. I didn’t fall into that category this first visit. I pray that one day I will, but the first visit was far more sadness than happiness for me.

It’s comical the amount of times I have been asked “is it like TV” since last weekend. In a short answer, NO it’s not like TV at all…at least not at the facility where Chris is. There is nothing but 150 plastic tan chairs in the visiting room, no tables, no board games, and no card games. You can’t go outside to picnic tables or anything else. There is a small playroom for children that has 1 table, 8 small plastic chairs, and some books. It’s funny how easily kids can entertain themselves. There is a desk in the front with a monitor, I assume it has feeds from all the cameras around the room. A CO sits pretty quietly at that desk and during the 3 days I visited was pretty nice to everyone. We didn’t have to sit and talk on phones through a glass wall, although I do think at higher security prisons that does happen. You are in that room sitting in those chairs for 6 hours, no cell phones, no iPad, no TVs.

I kind of liked it that way, no distractions. You actually communicate with each other. My first experience is that the visiting room is a very calm and safe environment.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the Victims1 Comment

by Diane S.

Entry Twelve

Drowning.

“No amount of guilt can change the past. No amount of worry can change the future” – Unknown

“Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”  1 Peter 5:8

I’m really not sure how to sum up the last 6 days.

I have felt like I was drowning and I did a real terrible job of grabbing onto the hand of God that keeps me from going under. However, I have managed grab onto His hand and to come up for air today. I may even be able to get out of the water if I try hard enough today.

This week I should be writing details about my first visit with Chris last weekend. I probably should have already written about it but I haven’t been able to do it yet. So far it’s indescribable and I haven’t found the words.  I have experienced more emotions in the last 6 days than I care to admit. That wooden roller coaster has been very rickety this week.

The actual 3 days I visited were good. Of course the first day was difficult and emotional, but good overall. The other two days were also good.  It was good to see my husband. It was good to be with him. It was good to see that he is okay.

However, the emotional and mental crash after the last day of visiting and having to come back home has had me questioning if I ever want to visit again. I’ve asked myself why I am doing this to myself. Why have I chosen this path? Why would I ever want do something again that breaks me down so totally?

And why have I resigned to do it for the next 8 years?

Drowning in the doubts of the enemy is the only thing that can describe the last 3 days.

Prayer has been difficult for me this week; I just haven’t known what to say. A lot of prayers this week have just been asking God to strengthen me in Him and asking Jesus to just listen to my heart because I didn’t know what it was saying other than hurt. I have not been in a place this week where I can thank God for this situation or even for waking up every day. I know I should be thankful for each day, but the last 3 have convinced me that being in Heaven with Jesus and not here going through this would be a much better option for me.

I know that isn’t true, but you know the saying “You can’t see the forest for the trees”? That is a good way to describe the feeling. I have been so focused on the doubts, fears and worries this week I have not seen anything else.

It’s a difficult place to be, drowning that is. I haven’t wanted to write anything this week, not letters to my husband, nothing for this site. Basically, I have done exceptionally well listening to the “woe is me” bidding this week and I crawled into a hole of worry and doubt.

It’s a very bad, very dark place with the only company being the enemy.

It’s always funny to me how people don’t think Christians should struggle like this; Christ followers don’t get depressed. They seem to think because I have a relationship with Jesus and some days they can see faith and trust in me that I don’t or shouldn’t have struggles. That’s not true at all.

Not even close.

I’m still human and now probably more than ever the enemy is working hard to get me to fall. Does the enemy know your weaknesses? I think he probably does & since he does it’s an open invitation for him to use those against you. It’s probably in the Bible somewhere but I can’t recall a particular verse about it. I think I will do some more research on that.

I didn’t work yesterday because I allowed this all to make me physically ill. I have worried about everything from travel, to finances, to bills, to the overall picture of the next 8 years. I know that when I think about the next 8 years overall it’s more than I can stand, but when I just focus on today I’m usually okay. I’m learning to just focus my eyes on today and what Jesus has for me this day. Worrying about how I am going to pay all my bills, afford visits and not let anyone down is so very pointless because even though I can’t see a way, I am not planning the way. God will provide, I know this yet I still drown in worry and doubt.

Today is a new day. I am not out of the water yet, but I am at least floating on top of it for now. That’s even better than just treading water, right?   I have a lot of guilt today because the last two days of phone calls with my husband have been a complete mess. I am resolved in my decision to be on this journey until the very end, I will not waver. (And I will visit again, as often as I can…see above where I said I was questioning that).

Even on my darkest days deep down in my heart and soul where it really matters I am steadfast in my decision and never questioning. You would think that would be enough to tame the doubt. However, on the drowning days it isn’t. Sometimes on those days, like the last two, I voice my doubts to Chris that rise to the surface about how we will ever survive this and of course it makes him question if there is any way I will actually stay resolved to stay on this journey. It hurts me to my very core that I know that after that 10-15 minute phone call I have let my doubts become torment for him until we talk again in 24 hours. My saving grace today (5/28) is that it is my birthday (the first one of nine without him, only 8 more to go) so he called early this morning for a couple of minutes to tell me “Happy Birthday” and I was able to tell him that I am back on semi-solid ground today and not drowning. Hopefully it eased his mind and calmed his heart. I wish he could know the difference between my mind and my heart; they stay on different pages a lot. Does it make sense that I have doubt in my mind but never in my heart and soul?

I don’t know if that does make sense but it’s the only way I can even attempt to explain it.

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the Victims2 Comments

A Note From Tony: Apologies are in order, because I posted #8 before #7.

Entry Seven

Shaky.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”  Romans 15:13

I have  never liked roller coasters – real ones or emotional ones. They aren’t my favorite.

Lately my entire life is one big emotional roller coaster, the scary kind. The kind that is the oldest roller coaster in the amusement park and is made of wood. The one you can see the sides shaking and creaking as you slowly climb the biggest hill to the top for the most exhilarating ride down the other side. The whole way up you are scared because you feel at any moment an old piece of wood could give way and the whole thing will fall down in one heaping mess and you’d probably get splinters too.

That’s my life. That has been my life for 17 months, with the last 13 days being the longest valley in the history of any roller coaster ever. Even on an okay day that has more good hours than bad ones I am apprehensive of when the wood will give way and I will be in a heaping mess of tears. It happens often and without warning: in stores, at work, in the car. I could be doing ok and then BAM, one piece of wood goes and I’m a hot mess (Sorry, my southern is showing).

I’ve been told a lot in the last two weeks I am strong. No, I’m weak. Jesus is strong and HE gives me strength. I’ve been told a lot in the last two weeks that my faith is inspiring. Maybe, but it’s only because Jesus gives me that faith in order to glorify Him. I ask God for strength and faith every day, multiple times. I’ve heard that others are saying those kinds of prayers for me too and I am so very grateful for each one. Yet, I’m on some very shaky ground here. The only thing solid to plant my feet on is God, and sometimes I get upset with him and then there is nothing to plant my feet on. I have to come back from being upset with God very quickly because if I stay upset with God then what do I have?

Nothing.

I have been reading some books by a wonderful lady named Carol Kent. She is in ministry as is her husband and they have been for quite some time. They found themselves in an unthinkable circumstance a few years ago as they got a call that their only son was in prison accused of murder. He is now serving a life sentence with no possibility of parole. She has written 3 books, all after her son’s incarceration and they are immensely helpful. This is an excerpt from one her books that resonated with me when I read it six months ago, and it still does today:

“Lord, where would I go if I turned away from You? If I didn’t have You, I would have nothing. I have nowhere to turn, so while I’m pounding Your chest with my hurt, pain and anger, please know that I am still facing You, still leaning into the warmth of Your embrace, not sure I can trust You, but knowing You are all I have left. If I left You, I would be completely aimless and lost. So while I feel devastated by what You have allowed to happen, I still cannot resist pressing into the comfort of Your strong arms. I am angry that I am not resisting You more, because I know You could have stopped this from happening, but I have nowhere else to go.”  Carol Kent; “Laying My Isaac Down”

I love those words from her. I read them often. It gives me comfort that I am not the only one feeling that way. People tell me to take it day by day, I’m more at the hour by hour stage for the time being. It’s more manageable that way. I have good hours and bad hours every day, sometimes I just go minute to minute. My prayer usually sounds something like this in a desperate time, “God please help me to trust you for the next 5 minutes, and if I make it through those then we will work on the next 5 minutes”

Literally minute by minute is the only way I get by sometimes.

Shaky ground. Shaky trust. Shaky Faith. Shaky emotions. Basically, just a shaky life right now.

I am not always strong in my faith, it’s shaky and messy sometimes. But I can say I always come back to Jesus’ embrace and the shakiness doesn’t last long. It’s 11:15 am and I am feeling pretty solid in my faith right now.

At 7am this morning, it was as shaky as ever. I wrote my husband a letter around that time and I have since thrown it away and re-written it. I refuse to let the enemy win me over and actually get me to send out a letter that will cause my husband pain when it isn’t what I really mean or want to say. (See my previous post about how writing is better for me because I can re-write hurtful things I say after I am over the mood I was in when I said them)

I’m learning more every day that the enemy finds your most shaky spot and then whispers lies over and over until you are almost face down on the ground. That is where I was this morning. The good thing is that before he gets me face down on the ground, he knocks me to my knees….and that is when I can regain solid ground. I’m finding I’m much stronger on my knees than standing. I’m also stronger when God is carrying me, pulling me or pushing me (whatever he has to do to make me move in the direction of His will), standing on my own two feet serves me no good right now.

I have times when I am angry too.

Angry at God (they are getting less and less these days), angry at my husband (getting better too), sometimes just angry at nothing and everything at the same time. Those are the times when trust is hard, when trusting His plan seems next to impossible. It’s just so difficult to accept something you can’t understand. It’s also difficult to trust God to provide for your needs and be able to tell those needs from your wants. I WANTED very much to be able to go visit my husband this coming weekend, however it looks like that isn’t a need and that doesn’t seem to be God’s plan. THAT is difficult for me and if I am not careful it puts my faith and trust in a shaky position.

So I just pray…I pray A LOT. Prayer brings me back from that shaky wood roller coaster and puts me back on solid ground. Even if the solid ground is a very tiny piece of property it’s God’s property and it’s all I need most times to turn the shakiness into steadiness in His grace.

I’d like to add one other thing here, not pertaining to this entry but because it’s been gnawing at my mind for a few days. These are posted under “Giving a Voice to the Victims”. I don’t want anyone reading to misunderstand and think that I consider myself a victim or that I would ever compare my struggles to that of true victims of horrible crimes. I do know the difference and I would never say I am victim. I am a victim of circumstances beyond my control, I am a victim of someone else’s decisions and actions. My step-son, my mother-in-law, and myself are all victims of circumstance we had no control over, not victims of any crime or abuse.  So please, when you read “Giving a Voice to the Victims” please know I view that term loosely and I have never really seen myself as a victim. I think it’s just a good place to put the blogs in a technical sense.

Another Note From Tony: First, let me just say that this woman’s honesty should provide us all with motivation to examine our own lives and our own circumstances and to see how our relationship with God figures in how we manage those lives and circumstances. Every time I read something she writes, I am encouraged. Saddened at times, and certainly often on the verge of tears for her, but encouraged also by her reliance upon God for strength.

Secondly, let me point out that Diane and I exchanged emails regarding the very last paragraph. I had convinced her to allow me to remove it since all of the individuals mentioned, including herself, are victims of the crime committed by Chris. I feel very strongly about that, but then…..this is her story, and His story, and their story. After careful consideration, I decided to leave it as written.

So here is the challenge: Help me come up with a new category under which to post all of Diane’s thoughts and make them uniquely hers. “The Prisoner’s Wife”, perhaps? “In A Prison Of Pain”, maybe? Email your suggestions to me at tonydc14@outlook.com and I will re-categorize all of the articles already posted and post all future ones that way.

Thank you all, God bless you, and please continue to show your support for Diane by reading and commenting.

 

 

 

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the VictimsLeave a comment

Entry Six

by Diane S.

Same.

I’m sure you have all heard the saying, “The more things change, the more they stay the same” at least once in your life, probably many times. I don’t think I really understood the full magnitude of the meaning until recently.

Everything is the same, but everything is different. Except God. He is the one constant. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8

I still get up every day. I let my 2 dogs out. I get ready for work. I drive to the same office and do the same job. I come home. Take care of my 2 dogs. Do whatever other little small things come along that particular day. I go to bed every night. Things are the same, except they aren’t at all.

I do it all alone.

I don’t wake up in the same bed as my husband. I can’t ask him to let the 4 dogs out for me. I don’t get to talk to him on my way to work. I don’t get to talk to him during the day or meet him for lunch occasionally. I don’t go home to cook him dinner. I can’t ask him to feed the 4 dogs for me. I don’t make him a night snack of stove top popcorn. I go to bed alone with 2 dogs instead of 4.

I hear the same songs on the radio, some of his favorites. They are the same and I still like them like I always have but I don’t sing along anymore. They aren’t as enjoyable to hear anymore without him there dancing silly or singing along. I don’t turn on our favorite songs in the car and turn it up loud and roll the windows down. I haven’t listened to a Christian rap song in 2 weeks, those are our favorites and for now I can’t take that change. Whenever I do get to the point that I want to listen to them again the songs themselves will be the same but everything else will be different.

It’s only been 10 days and my life has changed drastically, yet so many things are the same in a lot of ways. I pray, but my prayers are very different. I eat, but not often or much. I sleep, but not well or restful. I work, but I am unfocused.

Thankfully I do get to talk to him on the phone now. This morning he called on my way to work, it felt the same as in the past except it’s not. The phone call is preceded by a recording reminding me this call is from an inmate at a Federal Prison (just in case I may forget I, suppose). It reminds me at least 1-2 more times during the call depending on how long we talk. The phone call is brief, not 30-45 minutes like they used to be.   A quick call to say I love you and have a good day, he has to be mindful of the minutes he uses. I am thankful to hear his voice, no matter how brief. He dials the same number he always has but everything else has changed.

It’s all changed but it’s all so much the same.

The one thing that is the same, that hasn’t changed and that will never change is God. There are no words to describe how grateful I am to have a God wh0 doesn’t change. It’s comforting to know that no matter what else happens in my life, especially the next 8 years, God is in control. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is sovereign, His love is unconditional. One of the most comforting things that I know to be true about my God is that He loves Chris even more than I love Chris. I cling to that truth and remind myself of it daily. It is hard to imagine He loves him more because I know how much I love him. It gives me great comfort to know that He loves him more and no matter what that will always be the same and never change.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”  James 1:17

“Stories Of A Prisoner’s Wife”

On By Tony CassonIn Giving a Voice to the Victims1 Comment

Entry Two

by Diane S.

The Day

This journey is going to be a long one, we are just beginning.

May 5, 2015 was the hardest day of my life to date, but the 6 days since haven’t been easy. They have been filled with prayer, constant prayer. Prayer for my husband, my step-son, myself, my marriage, my mother-in-law. We had a good bit of information about what was going to happen on this day. We “knew” what to expect but quickly found out that even if you expect it you surely aren’t prepared for it. Nothing can prepare you to say goodbye to your husband for eight and a half years and drive away from a federal prison facility leaving him there.

Nothing.

God was with us, there is no doubt, but the heartache and pain are no joke. That is real raw emotion that I’m not sure anyone could ever be prepared for. We stopped a few blocks from the prison on the side of the road and prayed together and I truly believe that is how we all made it through the next hour.

There isn’t an instruction manual on how one goes about self-surrendering. There are no signs pointing you to the correct door once you arrive, you just kind of guess. We guessed right and were in the right place. My husband, myself, his mother and her sister walked into the institution and were greeted with a friendly, “May I help you?” The gentleman at the desk was nice to us. He told us to have a seat and someone would be out to get him shortly.

True to his word, it wasn’t long and a correctional officer appeared to take him back. He asked about the things we were told he could keep. We thought he could keep a cheap digital watch, but that wasn’t the case so he took it off and handed it to me. He was able to take his Bible, his glasses, his wedding ring, a bookmark, and a piece of paper with 3 phone numbers on it. The officer told us to say our goodbyes. I was first and he took my hand and told me he wanted me last, so I stepped aside to let him say goodbye to his mom and aunt.

Then it was my turn.

I don’t really remember what was said other than “I love you”, over and over. There are no words to describe the pain you feel when you know you are hugging your husband in freedom for the last time for 8 and a half years.

It was time.

They took him away through a metal detector, out a door and down a sidewalk. I watched him all the way until he stepped through the door of what I assume was the intake part of the facility.

And he was gone.

I could see his face right before he stepped through the door and I don’t think he was crying. I sure was, but he looked composed. The officer informed us that if we would wait a little bit he would bring out his clothes and shoes.

Here is the good stuff.

This is when God gave me some desperately needed ‘bread crumbs’ on that day. We sat in the chairs in the lobby waiting, observing. It was a clean place, it looked well kept and it seemed organized. It’s not what I pictured the lobby of a jail to look like. There were windows and much more light than I expected. As we were sitting, there was gentleman standing over to one side of the room. I don’t know who he was or what he was doing there, but I do know that God put him there at that time. He asked us how long he would be there and we said 10 years to which he replied he will do about 8 and a half years (we did know that). He told us he will be fine, just tell him to get busy with church things and education things and the time will pass. Then for no reason I can think of other than it had been a topic of prayer for all of us there that day, this man told us at least we didn’t have to worry about him eating because the food there was pretty good, much better than other prisons.

Now that may seem like a very insignificant thing but it wasn’t for us. We were (still am) concerned about what he will eat, I have never met a more picky eater than my husband so it’s a legitimate concern of mine, probably a silly one all things considered, but still. A few minutes after our conversation ended with that man we were asked to step outside for a few minutes while they did something, maybe a prisoner transfer? Not quite sure.   While we were standing outside a nice lady walked up to the door and it was locked. She asked us what we were waiting on and we told her my husband clothes. She asked his name & we obliged. She said, “Oh, I should have him in a few hours and for a couple of days, don’t you worry about him. He is going to be ok.”

Again, there is only one reason for something like that to happen. God was showing us he was there. It wasn’t long and the officer that took my husband back came out with his clothes in a clear plastic bag. He was getting off work so we all happened to walk to the parking lot and he said to us, “Don’t worry, he is going to be ok. We had a talk, he is going to be ok, I can just tell he’s going to do fine. You don’t have to worry.”   He may say that to everyone he returns belongings to, I really don’t know. However, on that day, it was another ‘bread crumb’.

You probably think that the ride home was unbearable, but it wasn’t.

God gave us a peace in that car for that 2.5 hour ride home. Not one of the three us cried until we were exactly 13 miles from his aunt’s house and ‘God Gave Me You’ came on the radio. That song has always made me think about my husband and it made me cry, but when I looked out the window of the car a random rainbow in the sky made me smile. It was like God put it right there just for me. I’m not saying there weren’t many tears shed later into the night, but that ride home was peaceful. The kind of peace that only comes from Jesus.

A Note From Tony: Amen! I am so encouraged by this woman’s reliance on, and trust in, God. Curiosity got the best of me, so I looked for that song. In case anyone else is curious, I have provided a version of it here. Enjoy.

I have exchanged emails with our guest author and asked her what names I should use. She never even considered that there were no names used. It was not an intentional omission. She simply didn’t think about it until I mentioned it and she has given permission to use first names for now. Her name is Diane. Her husband is Chris.

Women named Diane seem to figure prominently in my life, but this one is not to be confused with the one who has done so much for me through my incarceration, and continuing to this day. I am inclined to think that this ‘new’ Diane will ultimately figure prominently as well as she helps us all to try and understand America’s Culture Of Incarceration from the perspective of the victims of the punishment of the crime, rather than of the crime itself.

This is not to diminish the pain, loss, and suffering of the victims of those crimes, whatever those crimes may be. I have never, ever done that in all the years of “TOC” and I never will. It should, however, be important to society as a whole to examine the effects of this country’s policies and practices on everyone involved and weigh all of those factors when determining our national approach to a solution.

At present, what we have is not a solution. It is an overblown, overgrown industrial enterprise of behemoth proportions which helps no one (except those involved financially) and solves nothing. It doesn’t truly help the victims in most cases. It doesn’t help society at all, really, because the causes are never substantially or effectively addressed. It doesn’t help those who violate society’s laws (which are far too numerous in the first place).

And it most certainly does not help the families of those who have been left behind in any way, shape or form. In many, many cases entire families, and especially spouses, are treated as being equally guilty.

By all means, please leave your comments of encouragement for Diane. In today’s world, far too many women are a lot closer to ‘being’ Diane than we should all be comfortable with.

Lastly, I would like to mention that there is a woman who has followed TOC through the years whose husband was also in federal prison. Many of you may be interested in Kate Mest’s blog. Please visit and offer her encouragement.