A God of Justice

The judge assigned to my case peered at me over the frame of his reading glasses. “Miss LaLanne, I could hold you in contempt of court for this. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Well, it seems more fitting to suspend your parenting  rights for one weekend.”, he said as he turned his attention to my ex-husband’s lawyer.

“Mr. Foster, are you in agreement?” The judge began scrolling our parenting calendar. Our co-parenting arrangement alternated weekends. Our daughter was already with her father for most weekdays. Since I was on restricted probation, it was easier for him to get her to and from school.

I cringed at the thought of losing more time with my daughter. That meant we would not have another weekend together for an entire month. On the other hand, I knew the consequences of my choices could have been much worse, so I remained quiet.

His attorney responded, “Yes, my client agrees this is fitting and requests the court suspend the weekend of May tenth from Angelica’s mother.”

Checking the calendar, the judge replied, “That happens to be Mother’s Day weekend. You are suspending her from having Mother’s Day with her daughter?”

I looked over at my ex-husband with intense hatred, yet disbelief. He could not even look at me. I wanted to hurt him. How could he do this? I tried to maintain my composure. The tears poured down my face. What would my angel babe think of me now?

“It seems fitting, Your Honor.”, his lawyer scoffed.

The fact that I was fighting to hold onto my parenting rights was surreal. It took five years of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) before having my one and only child.  I’ll never forget the day my infertility was diagnosed. When I asked the doctor how my fallopian tubes ended up so disfigured and riddled with scar tissue, he could not give a conclusive answer. He did, however, question me about my sexual history.

“Yes, I was molested as a child.” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.

My doctor went on to describe the probability of silent infections causing the massive destruction to my reproductive system. “The only way you’ll conceive is through In Vitro Fertilization.”

I was furious. Furious at my stepfather. Furious at God. I needed a moment alone to process all of this. Not only was this yet another trauma to my soul, but rage welled up in me as I worked through the emotional triggers that accompanied this news. I screamed as I cried into my hands, “He stole my childhood and now he gets to steal my motherhood, too?”

Our life took a sudden turn as we navigated our reality as an infertile couple. IVF was still considered experimental. There were no guarantees and zero insurance coverage for the procedure. We financed our home and scrimped and saved to pay for the astronomical costs. The first two IVF cycles were devastating. We were ready to give up.

I needed answers. Was Jesus the answer? A dear friend of mine invited me to attend a Christian women’s retreat with her church in the Santa Cruz mountains. There, I was on my knees, crying out to Jesus. Are you real? Do you even care? Why am I going through this?

Several ladies prayed for me. “Cherie, are you ready to accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior? All you have to do is ask Him into your heart and pray this prayer.”

After we prayed together, I stood in awe of what took place. Is this for real? We started singing songs to God. In that moment, I was overcome with peace in my soul. All the rage and fear left me. One of the women seated near me handed me a card with a handwritten Scripture from the Bible, “For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV)

My new faith gave me the strength to endure the third and final attempt at IVF. This was my first experience learning how to trust God. During my prayer time, it was as if Jesus was speaking to me. “My child, he will not steal this from you. I am a God of justice.” This changed everything. I believed in my heart we would be blessed with a baby.

The following year, God entrusted me with the most miraculous of gifts. I was now a mother. When she was dedicated to the Lord, I vowed to raise her up in His teachings.

As time went on, I began battling PTSD. My marriage fell apart and I lost myself. From there, I returned to what was familiar from my childhood. The outlaw biker clubs were easy to track down. I did anything and everything to be accepted and taken under their protective covering. The sexual addiction and promiscuity I struggled with early on in life returned with a vengeance. I would prove my loyalty to the clubs using any means necessary. That included tattooing my body, having sex, theft, whatever. It was dangerous. I nearly went to prison, but my public defender saw that I did not belong in jail. Mercy. Grace.

My daughter was only eight years old and she hated everything about me and my lifestyle. My choices caused me to lose my house and everything else we had worked so hard to build. And I was now on the verge of losing my daughter. Her father was very vindictive and was determined to get full physical and legal custody. Of course he knew it was not possible for me to have another child. He was doing all he could to make me pay for not going back to him. My life had taken a bad turn and I certainly was not faithful to my vow to God concerning my precious daughter. I was awful at promises to anyone.

Our family court case was into its’ fifth painful year. Our daughter endured so much trauma through mediation, counselors, and fights between her father and me. I was determined to straighten my life out and I recommitted my life to the Lord during this time. Despite this, my ex-husband pulled out the heavy artillery in the courtroom. His lawyer began manufacturing lies and embellishing the truth. Things were bad enough, but the picture he began painting of me was filled with lie after lie. He was an evil man.

Throughout these years in court, I represented myself. As a little girl, my dream was to become a lawyer in order to keep my father out of jail. How ironic that I was now my own lawyer. There was no legal representation available if you did not have the money to hire an attorney. I spent hours on end in the law library each week, researching forms and legal procedures. No matter what lie was fabricated against me, I was not giving up my fight for my child. I began researching parental alienation and learned how to best respond to emergency ex parte orders. Those are court orders served without notice. I was doing all this on my own, with limited resources.

While praying one night, and reading from my Bible, I came to a Scripture that read, “So, do not be afraid of them. For there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed or hidden that will not be made known.” (Matthew 10:26 NIV). I remember reading how God is a God of justice and truth. Oh, Lord, please show me grace and reveal your truth in the courtroom. I thanked God for this Word and thought, I need to pray this Scripture in the courtroom. I believed if I prayed and declared this Scripture over my court case, over every courtroom, and over everyone involved in the case, truth would prevail.

Once I began praying that Scripture in the courtroom, over the lawyer, the judge, and even the bailiff, strange things began happening in the courthouse. My ex-husband’s lawyer, who vowed to never let me see my daughter again, began making a fool of himself in the clerk’s office. He was even reprimanded in the courtroom! One morning, I responded to another emergency ex parte hearing. While waiting for my hearing, the clerk told me the lawyer did not file the necessary forms and that I could go home. The lawyer chased me down the hallway, yelling, “Stop! You better not go out that door!” Security ended up reporting him to the court.

At our next scheduled hearing, we found out a new judge had been assigned to the case. I was not sure what to think. He’s not even familiar with my case or anything I have presented. What now?

The judge took a few minutes to quickly look through our case file before addressing us. “I can’t believe how long this case has been dragging on. I do not see anything proving this mother is unfit. All custody orders will remain as is. This case is dismissed. Good luck to you both.”

What just happened? I sat there in awe of God with tears running down my face.

“Thank you, Your Honor.” 

I closed my eyes. "Oh my God, thank you for not letting him steal my motherhood. Thank you for your justice and for your Word."