You’re an educated man. Have you read much Longfellow?

How about his poem, “Retribution?” I’m rather partial to it:

Though the mills of God grind slowly;
Yet they grind exceeding small;
Though with patience he stands waiting,
With exactness grinds he all.

I’m pretty much over the common belief that “justice delayed is justice denied.” I know God will deliver His justice, in His time.

I’ve done my homework.

I know that between 1975 and 1991, you abused many children.

I know the laws in our state, and I’m aware that, for many of your victims, the statute of limitations (SOL) has expired.

I also know that, in 2013, the SOL in our state was lengthened.

I’m pretty sure you must know that, too. I imagine you, tracking the house bills, wondering if they’ll clear the session; wondering if the senate will pass them, as well…

It can’t be easy for you.

I don’t want it to be easy. In fact, I want you looking over your shoulder, wondering if this year — this one — will be the year our state does away with the SOL on sex crimes against children.

I also know the recidivism rate for reoffense by child molesters is based upon those who have been caught, prosecuted, and convicted. Even that number is fairly scary, especially considering many of them receive treatment in custody.

But people like you… People whose crimes are dealt with administratively, saving a school district embarrassment, people whose crimes are reported to law enforcement (at least twice), but are never charged… What is the recidivism rate for you?

I’m going to guess it’s higher. Much higher. You’ve been getting away with it for decades. Literally, decades. Longer than many of your victims have been alive.

So, I’m banking on the fact that there is another girl (or boy) out there, in more recent years, that you’ve touched, shamed, and tried to destroy.

It only takes one.

One story to open up the door to prosecution.

I’ve told my story, now. I’ve joined forces with a couple of powerful, beautiful warriors, and founded the LISTENconspiracy.

We’re stripping away your protection. We’re telling the stories which have too long been kept silent. We’re uniting survivors, and we are rallying for justice.

God’s justice.

Telling my story once was difficult. Telling it again, and again, and again, and again has become quite easy. I have the truth on my side, and God is storming the fortresses of silence before me.

It’s a small town. Someone is going to talk. I know that one story is out there, and it will come out.

When it does, you can bank on seeing my face in that courtroom. You can plan to hear me speak out for that ten-year-old girl you preyed upon.

She’s found her voice.

And a megaphone.

I’m not going to go away, and neither will the truth.

I just thought you should know.

I’m reminded of a story from the Bible… The story of DAVID.

David was tapped to do some pretty awesome things as a young man, and ended up in a position that required him to give wisdom and leadership. (Not unlike many who are called to be teachers.)

As king, he sort of lost his focus. Big time. See, when he should have been out leading his troops, he was hanging around the palace, instead, and that’s when he saw Bathsheba.

Unwilling to quell his own lust, he made time with the beautiful lady, and she became pregnant.

This was a major faux pas — not only because God had given David all the concubines he could ever want, but also because Bathsheba also happened to be married to one of David’s most loyal and fierce warriors, Uriah.

So, David devised a plan to hide his sin, and had Uriah brought home from the battlefield, thinking the battle-weary warrior would celebrate his homecoming by making love to his wife.

Unfortunately for David, the plan didn’t work out so well, as Uriah was a dedicated soldier, and refused to do anything but hang out at the servants’ quarters, and request to go back into battle with his brethren troops.

So, David directed his leaders to push Uriah to the front line, and abandon him like a lamb left for slaughter.

It was no great surprise (in fact, it was rather a relief) when David received word that Uriah had died in battle.

In short order, he moved in his pregnant mistress, and attempted to get on with the business of playing house with her.

But, God was displeased. He’d stood by David, even blessed him with great power and riches, only to have David rebel with his lust. So, God struck Bathsheba’s child ill after it was born.

David was distraught. He pleaded with God to spare the child, to no avail. After a very public, very prolonged, period of repentance, God once again blessed David with a son.

I relate this story not because I think you don’t know it, but rather because it illustrates a very basic, very necessary principle:


Do I think it’s too late for you? No. I don’t. However, I must emphasize that you have not yet gained God’s forgiveness, because you have not repented.

I’ve been speaking with some of your victims. They still — decades later — live in terror of you. We have seen no indications of remorse, regret, or repentance.

It is also of note that God delivered the sentence for David’s betrayal, and in addition to taking the child Bathsheba carried, He also determined that a man would — years later — sleep with David’s concubines in broad daylight.

It happened, just as God said it would.

David’s repentance spared his life, but his sentence took years to complete.

I beg you, repent; confess. Accept your sentence, though it may take years to carry out. Do it, so that God may spare your soul.

Though the mills of God grind slowly;
Yet they grind exceeding small;
Though with patience he stands waiting,
With exactness grinds he all.