A Journey Through Darkness

In the Spring of 2011, just as he was finishing his third year of law school at University of Virginia, my son was accused of lying about an incident of racial profiling he had experienced. He was not able to attend graduation, he lost the job he had lined up after graduation, and his reputation was destroyed. He was cleared by the UVa Honor Court, and later granted his degree, passed the Pennsylvania Bar Exam as well as the Character and Fitness inquiry. This experience was complicated by a coerced confession at the hands of an FBI agent, during which Johnathan agreed to recant the story of his experience to "make it all go away." His legal counsel advised him to keep the FBI involvement silent for his own security and safety. It has now been six years, and the statute of limitations has passed, giving him freedom to tell the whole story, including the role of the FBI which had previously been unknown to the general public. 

Needless to say, the days, weeks and months surrounding this experience were awful. It was so hard to watch my son struggle to stay afloat--always positive and always working on the next step for his future. I did not handle things well, and was an emotional wreck for months. Following are some of my thoughts from that time.

NOTE: Johnathan persevered in his quest to practice law in the field of educational law and is presently working at Harvard University in Cambridge as part of the legal counsel team at that university. He's one of the most engaging and highly motivated young people I know, and I say that with all the objectivity of a proud mother.


A Psalm—Pleading for Mercy                        5/11/11

Lord have mercy.
My heart is heavy and my eyes are full of tears.
My heart and mind are overwhelmed with thoughts of
anger, grief, disbelief, and pain.
Please, have mercy.
Save my child.
Remove him from this pit of snakes where he is struggling
to keep his life on track.
I find myself trying to find the right words to get your attention, Father.
I think if I can somehow say it in the ordered way
You will intervene and make things right.
I know there are no perfect words
I believe you hear me right where I am—in this awful downward spiral
of emotion
Father please have mercy on my son.
Grant him favor
open the ears of those who have power to hear the truth
That’s what this is all about—truth.
But our lips are sealed and we can’t intervene on his behalf
No one seals your lips, Father.
You are our only hope.
I can’t sleep or eat or pay heed to my work
My son’s face comes to me, or I hear him on the phone
and I have to find a place of solitude to pour out my tears and my heart.
Lord, please have mercy on us.
Because you have given us your holy spirit to dwell in our hearts
filling us with all that you are and have,
Along with the apostle I say,
For this reason, I bow before you Lord, maker of heaven and earth
lover of my soul and of my son
pleading through the power of that same spirit
pleading for your intervention and salvation.
Calling on your strength and might, creator of the world
Come and heal and save.
I will stay in this pit with this reality
Until you come and save us.
Please Lord, come
Have mercy on us.


Threads           5/14/11

I woke up from my drugged sleep
feeling sluggish and heavy
I sat with my morning coffee
and a great sadness returned
and soundless tears rolled down my face

I took my coffee to the stoop in the backyard
and the normalcy of life washed over me
new blooms in the garden—new weeds too
harsh cries from birds
disturbed by the wanderings of my cat

in ten years, mom, we’ll look back
and talk about this with disbelief
assurances from my daughter

where is my solid ground?
where my hope and strong faith?
they are drowning in the sea of present realities
and I am hanging on to the thread
of what I’ve known to be the greatest reality
God’s love for me and my children


Justice?          5/21/11

An unjust confrontation
revealing man in his true form
giving for one brief moment
insight into how injustice feels

has now turned around
doubled back and become a second wound
evil came and had his way
and great havoc has been wrought

and here is the innocent
at the threshold of his glorious moment
shut down and made to look like sin
turning the truth into a lie

with motivation of the deepest purity
to help provide for those dear to him
he persevered and worked his future
in spite of numerous obstacles—he ran

and now
was it for naught
it can’t be so
injustice cannot have the last word


Dark Nights       5/22/11

Why is it that when I close my eyes
my mind flies to the darkest thoughts of the day?
I replay all the details of my son’s descent into pain and betrayal.
How did it all happen?
Why doesn’t someone step in and stop it?
Where’s the man who brought it down and how does he get away with it?
How will he pay for his education, now that he’s been cast out?
I recall my mantras—
sleep…sleep…sleep
peace…peace…peace
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy; Lord have mercy Christ have mercy.

Sometimes I wake up several hours later
and realize that it worked.
Sometimes I get up and on with the day.
I can delay the darkness till another night.


My dear sister-in-law, Joanie Perkins Potter, an attorney in Jackson, Mississippi, flew to Lancaster to spend a few days with us. She was so encouraging and just what we needed. I began to see some hope, even if the outcome we hoped for didn't come.

Joanie Brings Hope

Because my natural bent is Debbie Downer
You know--worst case scenario and all that
I tend to draw the breath and life out of an already sad situation

Here comes Joanie, auntie from the south
And like my son, she talks of hope and turning things around;
Looking for the proverbial silver lining

It's a God thing--a sign of His grace and mercy in our life
That he sent us this gift from Jackson
Bearing gifts and collard greens and hope.


The University of Virginia has an honor system that requires someone, if they are accused of lying, cheating or stealing, to undergo a trial by their peers. These violations of honor are taken very seriously and there is only a single sanction--expulsion from the University. Johnathan was accused of lying and therefore was required to appear before an honor court. 

Honor Trial       7/15/11

Tomorrow we go to Charlottesville.
I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime since that Saturday in May.
So many emotional ups and downs—mostly downs.
Turmoil in my gut and tears in my eyes.
My child has taught me so much
And he’s the injured party.
I shouldn’t be surprised. After all,
he’s fought dragons in the past.


Hysteria         8/31/11

I am laughing; no I’m crying
Am I laughing or crying?
I can’t tell—they both bring tears
Is it funny; no it’s sad
Is it funny or sad?
I’m not sure—it’s unbelievable.
Good or evil?
That is up to God.
And that’s the Truth.


I wrote this poem to express my love and appreciation for JoAnn Kunz, my spiritual director and dear friend. She was truly a lifeline back to sanity and grace.

To Jo

A crushing blow was dealt my son
And down I went with grief and disbelief
When I tried to stand I needed help

I tried the conventional way
Consulting a help professional
I knew it wasn’t what I needed—
I wanted someone to guide me toward God’s face

As I struggled for sense and meaning
Into the gaping wound there stepped a friend—
Someone to direct me to the face and heart of God
And as she listened to my story
She guided me back to the flowing stream
Where I plunged in with no regard for depth

In the ensuing weeks and months
I have moved from grace to grace
At home in divine mystery and love
And with each encounter
She gathers up my life into
A gift, a grace, a prayer

…you are my kingdom come…

Names have been named          9/27/17

Names have been named—

Hilland, Fielding Blakey

They may not care

They may feel nothing now

But I believe they

remember the day

they cornered my son

and humiliated and wore him down

Now I can let go

Now I can even forgive

They will not have the last word

He has persevered

courageous and determined

always under a cloud of fear

But no longer—He’s free

Names have been named

He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep, pain, which cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.   - Greek playwright, Aeschylus

Hindsight

A story in the Old Testament

tells of a young man sold into slavery

by his jealous brothers

Years later this young man

saves the lives of his brothers

when a famine left them starving

Don’t be afraid, Joseph said to his brothers

what you meant for harm

God meant for good

To the police who stopped and treated my son rudely

to the police lieutenants sworn to serve and protect

to the agent from the FBI whose goal was to make it go away

To lieutenants Fielding and Blakey, and agent Hilland

You sold my son to the system

Hoping to get him off your grid

You cost him graduation and his job

You sullied his reputation

You made his mother cry in despair

But what you meant for harm

or maybe just to rid the campus of an inconvenient truth

what you did to this beloved young man

this dragon slayer who had already overcome so much

while horrible and almost fatal to his future

Has proved to be no match

for his tenacity, integrity and strength

for his prowess and determination

You did not write the end of his story

what you meant for harm

God has used for good

Stepping Out of the Boat

i ponder this feat
as i take a morning
meditation walk
and it occurs to me that
this does not require
a major miracle
or act of greatness

as i pick up cups
and napkins and
ketchup wrappers
i know that getting
out of bed each
morning is, for me
stepping out of the boat

Fall came today

Fall came today

Actually it crept in during the night

While we were asleep

And we woke this morning

To a cool breeze

The bluest sky

Happy birds

I sit on the back porch

In my Harvard hoodie

(Which I’ve been longing to wear

since I bought it in Cambridge 

where I was visiting my son)

Listening to the clothes

Flapping on the line

It always comes

But I am always 

Taken again by surprise 

At the joy it brings

Along with an edge of sorrow

And the dying to come

The cold darkness of winter

9/30/17

Civilized

All bets are off

Anything is possible

Anything can happen here

Fear in each spoonful of oatmeal

Hatred in ham sandwiches at lunch

Dissidence

Spite

Lies

Anger

Our evening stew

Violence justified

Indecency glorified

Lies equal truth

This will not end well

Anarchy and war

Guns are lifted

Pointed

Aimed

Fired

At the other

We are safe

Syria will never happen here

We are civilized

I am inspired by an Irish poet, Michael Longley, who wrote during the years of strife in his country; strife between people who lived in the same neighborhoods, walked the same streets, shopped at the same grocery stores.

I am at the same time disappointed and confused by the stances taken by people that I love. It’s hard to think that one sees things so clearly, only to have another trusted and respected friend, so clearly stand in opposition. My faith in my fellow humans is shaky; my faith in my Father is firm—come what may.

Nancy Perkins

November 6, 2016

For Nancy

Nancy, wife of J G Williams
Born October 12, 1821
Died April 1, 1850
She lived about ten years of her life a devoted Christian and died in the faith


To Nancy
Lying in the woods
Beside the road where I walk
Your grave stone lies flat
In the leaves and sapling trees
No one but the dear and birds
Attend your sleeping
Born one hundred years before me
You bear my name

Now you know, as you know God
Our souls are held by him from
Our conception and beyond--not just ten years
Now you know that ownership of men
And women was against his design
Now you know that we are all His
As you break bread with souls
From every tongue and tribe
Now you rest in peace

7/31/16

Yesterday, along the road where we walk, my sister and I discovered an old burial ground. Some of the markers are hard to read; some are small with no names at all--possibly infants or children. One that drew me in was the one pictured above: Nancy, wife of J G Williams. Only 29 years old when she died. What was her story? She died before the civil war; did she own slaves? I went back to the cemetery this morning, drawn in to this woman's untold story. She died 100 years before I was born, yet somehow I feel connected. Weird...

Re-Centering

Google Maps has a feature
you can use if you
stray from the predictive road.
It's an arrow labeled
Re-center.

Sometimes the news and noise
flashing through on my devices
crowds my mind and
disorients my sense of
who I really am.

I need a weekend of silence
I told my daughter.
I need to separate myself
From people's comments
And likes and whatnot.

Like Google Maps, she laughed
Press Re-center.

Abandoned...and yet (An ode to Spencer)

Sometimes I feel abandoned
By the one who could
Have shed light on this violent pathway
Could have given guidance
Could have helped us find our way

Yet as I walked this morning
Listening to Josh Groban
Sing Up Where You Are;
I cherish all you gave me...
And therein is my way forward

These children who are so precious to me
Are your gift, the presence you left behind
And while I long for your words and inspiration
I see the very things I long for and miss
In these amazing young people

In their courage...his constant prayer for himself
In their anger, sometimes harsh and cutting
In their loving tenderness, couching harsh words in grace
In their loyalty to their friends and family
In their words--spoken and written

And isn't faith believing
all power can't be seen?

Give us courage
To meet the challenges of this day
Give us hope that truth and justice will prevail
Give us strength to rise another day and another
Give us presence when we feel alone

I know you're there
A breath away's not far to where you are


These days I long for Spencer and the wisdom and insight he brought to a world of injustice and violence; wisdom learned from his own experiences of violent racism, applied to daily living. What would he be saying today? Would he go to Ferguson, to Baltimore, to Baton Rouge? In the phone calls and frantic texting and conversations with Johnathan and Jubilee and April Joy, I hear echoes of his courage and call. I see glimpses of his determination and persistence. I find wisdom and guidance and strength for my own journey, and I am reminded that we are not abandoned, just separated physically from Spencer. His words are being written from new pens; his words are being spoken through younger voices; his legacy of truth and justice now continues threefold in these amazing gifts he left with me.

Joanie, you probably don't remember, but you are the one who shared with me Josh Groban's song, Up Where You Are, after Spencer died. I couldn't listen to it very often back in those days, but recently I have found it to be so comforting and precious.