It was necessary for Phil to move out of our home. He would stay with his parents for a time while charges were filed against him and court proceedings took place. But on the day he had been found he went to sleep at our home that night. The next day he’d gather his things and make the move final. Even though I was staying at my parents’ home, I went to see him that evening to talk with him before he moved out. Restrictions were that he would not be allowed around the children, so I left them with my parents’ while I went to talk with Phil. As we spoke, the conversation was strained. I wanted him to tell me about the problems he was experiencing and I needed some explanation as to why he would do these things. Our conversation did not satisfy my need to understand. He told me that he’d had this problem for a long time and hadn’t acted upon it for years, but he couldn’t stop himself any longer and had given in to his desires. I reflected back to one night several months before when Phil was having a bad dream. He had cried out in his sleep in a fit of terror. I shook him to make him wake up and asked why he was screaming and thrashing around. He told me a huge bear had been chasing him in his dream and the bear attacked as he was trying to get away from it. As our conversation continued, I felt certain that dream and the huge bear were a manifestation of his addiction to sexual perversions, and it was chasing him now. I don’t think he wanted to have this challenge, but for some unknown reason it was his. By giving into it and acting out his sick fantasies, he had sealed his own fate. Instead of getting professional help to combat the beast inside him, he had surrendered to it and now it had become his downfall.
During our conversation I felt weak and sick inside. I left the room for a few minutes, and on my way back down the hall I collapsed, due to the stress of the situation. The whole subject felt so oppressive and heavy to me and I just couldn’t hold myself up any longer. As I laid there on the floor I was in a sort of daze and I called out to Phil for help, but he could not hear me – I think he didn’t want to hear me. He was so self-absorbed in his own fears and pain. He seemed to have no regard for mine.
Our ecclesiastical leader came to the house that same night. He offered comforting words and kindness as he spoke with Phil and I. His visit was interesting, and I learned something that night I had not expected to learn. This kind man said a powerful prayer. He prayed for me, for the children and for Phil. During that prayer there was an overwhelming feeling of love in the room. I felt Heavenly Father’s love for me, but I also felt an almost palpable feeling of the Saviors’ love for Phil, too. I was a bit surprised at this idea. But I knew at that moment that in spite of what Phil had done, the Lord loved him. Through all the pain that followed as the weeks and years went on, I would never be able to deny the love that I knew the Lord had for Phil because of what I had felt.
I learned a powerful lesson that night – Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love everyone on this earth. I had always believed that, but living with this new-found loathing for what Phil had done, it was hard for me to believe that people committing crimes against others could still be loved by Heavenly Father. I’d never had to face this idea so personally, and I was shocked that I could accept this truth now. Every human being is a child of Heavenly Father – He is our loving Father who loves us unconditionally. And our dear brother Jesus atoned and suffered for each of us, no matter what we have done. They sincerely and deeply love every man, woman and child on this earth. I may not have been able to love Phil any longer, but God could.
This was the last night that I would see Phil for a very long time.
My dear minister continued to be a friend, a mentor and a teacher to me and my children for many years to come. He often gave me wise counsel. He blessed my life in many ways and gave me hope for the future – I felt his love and support for my family at this time of great need, and as my children continued to grow. He would bless our lives in numerous ways for over 25 years. I will always love this dear man for his compassion.
As the days went on I started thinking about how life might be now and how it had changed. I began to worry about the embarrassment this would cause, and the embarrassment for my children that would certainly follow. Did everyone know? What did people know? Could I go to church and hold my head up? How would my children be treated by others? What were people saying about me? Some rumors of what had been said among the neighborhood got back to me. Some people had assumed that I had been the victim of physical abuse, which made me angry. If the abuse had been that blatant, I wouldn’t have stayed in the relationship – didn’t they know that? I knew people were talking, and I didn’t like being the subject of discussion, especially that kind of discussion.
For several weeks I stayed in the warmth and comfort of my parents’ home. I made an appointment to see the counselor my sister had summoned, Mark Rogers. He would prove to be a source of healing and comfort for me and my family members.
I didn’t see many friends during this time as it was too painful to be out among others as they lived their regular lives – mine was anything but regular now. One day a friend of mine showed up at my parent’s door. She said she hadn’t seen me lately and had a feeling she should come and see if I was OK. I think that she had probably heard something about what had happened. She asked if I would go for a ride with her, so we rode and talked. After a while we parked the car and continued our conversation. She never really asked me what had happened, she just let me talk. In a way I was relieved that someone was interested in my welfare, with no judgment on her part. I opened up and told her what had happened, and she just sat and listened to me. I know I cried, and she cried with me. I don’t remember all that was said, but I do remember telling her that I couldn’t believe that I was still alive. I didn’t know a person could experience so much emotional pain and still be physically living. But I did know that after feeling the pain I had felt, I received a profound change in my appreciation for what our Savior, what my Savior had suffered for all of us while in Gethsemane. My pains at this time felt immense, and I knew that Christ had felt my pains from this experience in addition to the pains of everyone that has ever lived on this earth as He prayed in that garden. If my pains were only a small, minute portion of what He felt as He bled from every pore, then I knew His suffering was beyond anything that I had the ability to understand. My love and devotion to Christ had grown exponentially. This was a personal and real understanding of what the Atonement truly meant, for all of us personally. I was connected to Christ in a way that I had never been connected before. My reverence and devotion for Jesus Christ from that point on was unwavering. Through tears I expressed to my friend my amazement for Christ’s sufferings.
A few weeks later my friend and her husband, along with my sweet minister came to my home and pronounced a blessing upon it. As the four of us knelt in a circle in the middle of my living room, they blessed my family and my home, dedicating it to the Lord and asking that the dark spirits that followed the adversary leave my home. Through his behavior, Phil had invited many dark spirits into our home. Now their darkness was being commanded to leave. In the future those dark spirits would try to sneak back in where they had taken residence before, and I would pray them away many times and invite the light of Christ to take their place.
I talked to Phil just a few times over the next few months. In the note he had left for me on that first and terrible day, he said that there would be hard times ahead, that our family could work through this and we would still be a family. I think Phil honestly believed that I could welcome him back into our lives with open arms. As we spoke he counseled me about our finances, my finances now, and where I should spend the money he had saved. This became laughable to me. I was going to be a single parent and every bit of any money that had been saved would go to keep my children and I afloat. There would be no more saving for a long time, no frivolous spending. I would learn to be more frugal and I would have to get a job working outside the home to make ends meet. His words felt empty to me and I was becoming more distanced from this man I really did not know.
I didn’t know yet, but the road ahead would be long.