(12) LAST CALL: Abuse, Alienation, and Spiritual Growth

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It was spring 2014 and I found myself trying to adjust to a new normal, again. My youngest son had been put in foster care the previous fall, taken from my husband due to neglect and abuse. I struggled to navigate the legal system and social services from inside prison walls. Each time I found myself experiencing hope, it would be crushed by a new pain.

I didn’t know it, but this would be the last year I would have contact with my daughter, my husband lashing out in anger to destroy my relationship with her. Are you struggling with co-parenting or worse, parental alienation? This is a difficult episode to share, a difficult episode to listen to, but there is hope! This is another step in my journey towards lasting spiritual growth and transformation. Join me!

TRANSCRIPT

Have you experienced emotional abuse, legal system challenges or parental alienation? Are you hurting and in need of real help?

In 2014 I was three years into my 8 year prison sentence. I would face all of these painful issues and more as I sought to remain connected to my family. Discover with me the secret of peace in any circumstance, and the issues that stand in our way.

While this episode discusses difficult subjects, it points us to real hope for our future. Listen until the end – you won’t want to miss a word. This is Last Call.

“Mommy? Do you still love us?” Vivi’s little voice sang out across the phone lines. It was the summer of 2014. Timmy, under supervision of Child Protective Services, was in foster care. My heart ached as each month new reports from Social Services arrived documenting their life.

“Yes I do, Vivi!” I answered, surprised at her question.

“I thought so,” she mused. “Brian visited and said you didn’t love us anymore, but I thought, ‘That can’t be true, or why would you send me new bracelets you made every week?’”

Brian was Timmy’s social worker. Pride over Vivi’s critical thinking skills was drowned by outrage at Brian. How could any adult tell children their mother doesn’t love them anymore? I was shocked.

“Vivi, I am so proud of you! You are so smart and I love you so much, yes I do. Thank you for asking me that question,” I reassured her. Privately I wondered how to stick it to Brian.

Have you ever been confronted with uncomfortable questions at an unexpected moment? Have you ever wanted to resolve a painful issue but felt unsure how to proceed? Do you struggle with conflict in relationships today?

I’d been incarcerated for 3 years and called my children daily.

“Do you know why I answer the phone for you?” My husband snarled one afternoon. I did not know. We rarely spoke. My husband’s phone was my only connection to our young children. I called and usually they would answer. Occasionally my husband would answer silently, passing the phone over.

I paid for all phone calls, so money was not on his mind. He didn’t wait for my response as he rushed on, “I answer this phone for you because our sons are old enough to remember you. They would be mad at me if I didn’t.” He sucked in a breath. “They want to talk to you,” he spit out angrily.

Eerily his voice dropped, a man finding control. His next question was almost sing song, “But you know what?” This time he waited for my response. Frozen, I didn’t answer. I was almost afraid to. He snickered into the silence. Feeling more powerful he pressed, “Vivi was only 4 years old when you went to prison. Too young to remember you. It’s my mission to make her hate you as much as I do!” His voice had risen in volume as he spoke, ending at a near shout, shaking with hatred.

I listened horrified, disbelieving. He swallowed a hysteric, manic giggle, continuing. “If I can’t make her hate you, I’ll make her forget you completely!!” He erupted into laughter.

My husband was expressing intentional harm, describing a world without gravity, earth without a sun, things that do not happen. I said something stupid, “But that’s wrong!”

Laughter roared out of the phone. “I know! It’s great!” He waited for me to respond. Speechless again I said nothing. A minute then, instantly calm he hissed, “And no one’s going to stop me.” Click.

Prior to incarceration my family attended church together occasionally. I remember one sermon the pastor told this story: “I asked my wife to name something I could do to make her feel more loved. She answered, ‘Say I love you more.’

“For the next year,” the pastor continued, “ I said ‘I love you,’ more often. The following ...