Testimony of Truth

I remember praying and wondering about where my eyes would rest in that room in which sat my abuser, officials of the church, other pastors, my friends and family, and the judicial panel. I had no file to consult about how I should act - what I should do with my hands, my feet, all the nervous energy coursing through my body. My friend sat next to me, ready to help or be of encouragement if she could. My abuser's attorney caught her eye and stared at her menacingly, as if trying to intimidate her. She met his eyes and stared right back. I tried to look at Ron intermittently so that I could get used to seeing him before I was called to testify. He kept his head down as if engrossed in his note taking, and rested his head on his hand so that no one could see his face. Fine with me.

They called the room to order, opened with prayer, and read the charges. It seemed like within only moments, I was called as the prosecution's first witness. I was grateful that a brief recess was called before I was to begin so that I could walk over to the chair and get situated while people were busy milling about. Although I had little doubt that my purse would be safe in the guarded saferoom, I brought it with me because it was heavy and familiar and something I could hold against me on my lap. The chair stood alone out in the middle of the room with no table for cover, or chair next to it for a friendly presence. As I sat down I felt calm and resolved to provide the panel with all the truth they needed to determine his guilt and remove him from ministry.

The defense attorney began by asking me my high school grade point average, followed it up with a request for me to verify my all-conference athletic status in softball, and then wrapped it all up with his point - that there was no way I could have been abused because I had it all together! He then proceeded to ask me to define rape. I replied simply, saying "in this case, rape is when an adult has sex with a child." He smirked at my response and went for his second point - his assumed definition of rape. He faced the panel and stated that he considered rape to be "when there is violence, struggle, screaming and shouting that ends with forceful penetration." The prosecuting lawyer thought Christmas had come early as he heard this definition described for the panel, and doodled smiley faces on his legal pad as the panel moderator of the judicial panel addressed the attorney directly, indicating that they would go with my definition for the purposes of this trial, and that "level of resistance had nothing to do with what happens when there is an inequity of power." A lot of healing happened when the panel moderator spoke on my behalf, defending me against the very things of which I have accused myself over the years.

Because I had, for over two years, been providing detailed testimony to various investigators and attorneys in the case, I had become adept at holding the details of my own story far enough away from my emotions, that I could list off horrific details succinctly while maintaining my composure. Now I don't know that this skill has at all served me personally and emotionally, but it got me through that day, and allowed me to provide them with the information they needed. But when the defense rested, the prosecution asked me their questions, and then I heard that the defense would not choose to cross-examine? I gasped and a sob briefly escaped my throat when I realized it was over - that I was likely done testifying. I locked that sob away and waited to be escorted back to the anxious-yellow saferoom.