Married to a Pedophile: The Tentacles of a Child Molester

Posted on November 18, 2013 by Clara Hinton

I have a headache tonight. It’s caused by stress and heartache. I know the feeling all-too-well by now. It’s been over two years since he was arrested and put into prison.

If you are new to this blog, please begin here. The reading is quick, but I will warn you that it is not easy. This is my story of being married for almost forty years to a practicing pedophile without knowing it.

I’m straying from my normal chronological order of events and sharing a bit of what’s on my heart right now. With Thanksgiving and Christmas approaching, so much new pain has surfaced that I feel it will be good for me to share. Sometimes people just don’t understand how far-reaching the actions of a practicing pedophile really are!

The pain that flows through me tonight is not for me. This pain — this horrible, aching hurt that is deep within my soul — is coming from the knowledge of how far-reaching the tentacles are of a man who molested children. This man who I shared my heart, mind, and soul with for almost forty years has left behind so much pain for so many people that at times it feels like my heart is going to explode.

Some say, “You can get over it. The children he molested will get over it. Life goes on. He’s in prison now and everyone can rest easy knowing that justice has been served.”

If only it was that easy!

Sometimes I lay awake in bed at night thinking of all of the lives that have been hurt by this one man’s actions. Every day I get emails — lots of emails — telling me of the pain. Some are angered and want to see him face-to-face and tell him how much his actions have hurt them. Others write and tell me they will never be the same — ever. They cry daily asking for relief from the pain. Some have abandoned the very idea that God exists. “How can we trust a God we cannot see when the man who taught us of God was living such a dark life of lies?”

Who gets harmed by a man who molests children? How far do the tentacles of a practicing pedophile reach?

1. Children who were victimized — nightmares, horror, fear of the dark, mistrust, shame, guilt, betrayal, confusion, depression, night terrors (and this is just a wee bit of what it was like for these precious children)

2. Church family — betrayed by their minister that they loved so much. There is often a sickened taste left in the mouth for ministers. If you can’t trust your minister, who can you trust?

3. The families of the children who were harmed — Try to put yourself in the shoes of those parents. Can you imagine the guilt for not protecting their children? Can you imagine how much it hurts that a person you loved and trusted is the very one who molested and abused your child?

4. Friends — they thought they knew this man, but have been shattered by the fact that they were so fooled. They went hunting, fishing, camping together. They shared stories and fireside chats. They thought they knew him, but are being strangled by the tentacles of his lies and deceit.

5. His children — there are no words that I can say to describe their brokenness. This is the father they loved and adored so much. He was not only their dad, but their spiritual leader — the man who baptized every one of them. He was the one who took them hunting and played basketball with them. He was there at all of the ballet recitals. He was the one they respected and cherished. The horror, the shame, the questions that these children have will go on until the end of time. Why? How? Why this? How could this be? We didn’t see it. And, then the flood of tears because they miss the father they have lost.

6. Business relationships — the banker, the postmaster, the insurance clients, the barber, the family doctor, the librarian, the Christian bookstore owner, the minister friends — the thousands of people who dealt with him weekly are shattered. I’m still getting phone calls saying, “I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe this.”

7. The community — he volunteered at the prison, the food pantry, the hospital, homeless shelters, nursing homes — you name it, and he was there. People have sobbed in front of me saying, “I’m shattered. I don’t know how this is possible.”

And, finally, the woman who fell the hardest because she feels so responsible for not seeing it. That woman is me. I’ve questioned myself a million different ways and I still come up blank. How did I not see it? Sure — there were odd things, but he was an odd person. That was part of his charm at first, I guess. I fell for him hook, line, and sinker and I just didn’t see him for who he really was.

When I am alone with my thoughts those tentacles of his reach around my heart and squeeze until I can hardly breathe. I birthed his children, and now they have such pain and will suffer all of the days of their lives. Their spouses and their children will hurt, agonize, and suffer too. His grandchildren will never have a relationship with him. It almost kills me to know that. I dreamed it would be so different. Our family is broken, and now we must find a way to keep from breaking even more.

And, then the tentacles squeeze tighter yet as they sweep across my mind and I think of him in prison doing the same thing. He brags how much good he is doing in the name of God. He’s teaching bible lessons, giving sermons, praying over people, singing in the choir, meeting with volunteers setting up programs. He is loved. His deceitful charm is working all over again, and I feel an inner shaking that wants to scream, “Liar! You are a liar! And, you’re still hurting people with your lies! Haven’t you done enough harm already? You continue to maniuplate and deceive, and you will do this all the days of your life!”

The actions of this one man — the man I married — have reached out and hurt so many people. He molested innocent children and stripped them of their childhood. He warped their thinking and mixed up and confused them so much that they don’t know who — if anyone — they can trust. He manipulated and used people for his selfish purposes. He took delight in his self-serving actions. He did nothing to stop this. He still says, “I don’t see what’s so bad about all of this.”

REALLY? REALLY? You don’t see how far-reaching, how deeply penetrating, how long-lasting your evil, corrupt, deceitful, heinous actions have gone? You don’t see the hearts that are bleeding and will forever bleed? You don’t see it because you are selfish. You don’t see it because you don’t want to see it. You don’t see it because you cannot see what you don’t want to see!

I’m writing this blog because I want you to understand the seriousness of what just ONE molester can do. Look how far and wide the pain goes from the actions of just one. Please help me to bring awareness about child predators. I was married to one, and I’m speaking from the heart. When you ask me, “How do you profile a predator?” I can only say to look for those “odd signs” — the ones I’ve been mentioning on this blog for weeks. Go with your gut feelings because they are usually right.

Do all you can to keep your child safe! Little children need us to protect them from men like the one I married! He was charming, witty, kind, generous, and he groomed little children and molested them for over fifty years. His actions will cause pain and heartache for years and years to come!

Stay on your toes. Keep your eyes and ears open. Don’t allow your children to be alone with anyone when they are young. Teach them from little up that NOBODY is to touch their body. Let them know they can tell you ANYTHING. BELIEVE them when they do tell. LISTEN to them. They will give hints.

Let us be advocates in our churches, schools, daycares — and in our homes. Let’s do all we can to keep our children safe!

Thank you for your comments, your questions, your love, your concern and your involvement in keeping our children safe. They have been unprotected for too long. It’s time we stop these predators in their tracks and keep our children safe! Speak up. Speak loud. Speak often. Our children are depending on us!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: A Constant Web of Lies

Posted on November 4, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Do you want to know how a wife of a pedophile feels? Some days sad. Some days very confused. Some days weak in faith. Some days in constant torment and pain. Some days full of questions that are begging for answers. And, some days………. mad as hell! The mad as hell feeling doesn’t come often, but when it does I really feel it to the inner core of my being. The story I’m going to share with you today is one that really gets my dander up. Why? Because I fell for one of the biggest lies ever from John and it angers me when I think of how much he must have laughed over it!

If you are new to this blog, in order to get the full story of what it was like being married to a practicing pedophile for almost forty years without knowing it, you should start reading here. The blogs are short, but each one is a stepping stone that shows just how manipulative these molesters are!

I remember this particular event so well. In fact, I saved the emails that were passed around the family during this traumatic time, and I just came across them the other day. Reading them took me to my knees. It’s so hard to read about this stuff now that I can fit the pieces of this pedophilic puzzle together!

I had gone grocery shopping on Saturday and John was watching the kids. When I came home, the house was eerily quiet. I knew something wasn’t quite right, but I didn’t know what had happened. I asked John and the kids what was going on, and they said everything was fine.

It wasn’t fine. Not at all, but I wouldn’t find out for another few days what had happened.

About Wednesday of the following week, I received an email from one of my sons who was in college. “Dear Mom, I’m not sure how to word this, but I know you’ll figure out how to talk to dad about this. I’m sure it’s nothing, but just in case there’s more to it, I thought you should know.”

The email went on to explain what had happened that Saturday when I was grocery shopping. One of my daughters had gone bouncing into my office upstairs (which was always open to everyone) thinking she could get onto my computer to do some homework. Instead, she stood frozen by what she saw!

Sitting at my computer was John. That in and of itself was a shock as he was always downstairs in his locked office where he kept his computer. She was startled at finding him there. What startled her more was what she saw!!!!

On the computer screen was some of the worst adult porn (as described to me in the email) that could be viewed. Raw, obscene, disgusting, horrific scenes and my fifteen year old daughter walked in on her dad, the preacher, viewing this.

He began fumbling to try to X out of it, but the screen was frozen, so what did he do? He turned to her and calmly asked her to delete the porn for him. He said he was working on his Sunday sermon and the porn just popped up on the computer screen and he didn’t know what to do! He was caught! Red-handed! He was caught in a horrible lie!

Needless to say, a young girl would be shocked to see her dad viewing such stuff and it worried her so much that she emailed her older brother. He took several days to think about it then emailed me.

He said, “Talk to dad about it. Mom, don’t get upset. Most men look at stuff like this sometime in their life, so maybe dad just got curious. I’m sure he has an explanation.”

I read the email probably fifty times not knowing what to do. First, I thought I’d better talk to my daughter. When I asked her what happened, she burst into tears. She said, “Mom, it was horrible. The pictures I saw where awful. Everybody was naked. There was blood. There were things I didn’t know about. And, dad just sat there and asked me to get it off of the computer because the computer was frozen. It was sickening, Mom!”

She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed!

As I held her I kept thinking of John telling me that he used to spend his summers looking at porn when he was young. So, I knew he had already been exposed to this. But now? Not now. He wouldn’t do that! But, my mind kept wondering. He was really strange in bed with me. He never, ever used foul language — not even in a teasing way. But, it seemed as though he had lost interest in intimacy. In fact, more often than not, he would turn his back on me and just say, “I’m tired. Let’s just go to sleep.” And, he had no problem going for weeks like that. And, when he did demand intimacy, he did some really strange things. Things that made me feel less than like a lady — less than like a woman sharing a close, warm moment with the man she loved.

I was worried. Maybe there was another woman. Maybe he had lost interest in me as his wife. Maybe…..a million different thoughts raced through my mind.

That night, I mustered up the courage to bring up the topic. I was breathing erratically — so nervous. How do you approach this subject? It was awkward and embarrassing, to say the least.

“John, can I talk to you? Do you remember last Saturday when I was shopping? Did anything out of the ordinary happen while I was gone?”

He was watching TV and never even turned his head to look at me. I hated that! He never looked me straight in the eye! “Oh, you mean the mix-up on my computer? Did she tell you about that? I guess I should have mentioned it. I’m studying for a series I’m going to preach on porn addiction, so I thought what better way to find out what’s out there than to get on the computer and see for myself. So, I typed in a few words and there it was!”

“What do you mean you were studying for a sermon? You need to look at hard-core porn to study for a sermon?”

“Sure. Haven’t you read what Dr. Dobson has to say on the subject? That’s where I got the idea from. He said if you haven’t seen it, you can’t preach about it. You have to view the porn to get into the mind of the guys who get hooked on it. So, I have to look at some of this stuff if I want my sermon series to be effective.”

Do you want to know what’s weird? I believed this lie one hundred per cent! In fact, I apologized for ever questioning John. I said I’d talk to our daughter and reassure her that he was just prepping for a sermon. And, I never brought up the subject again!

How many red flags and lies can you see in this one story? I’ve thought a million times over why John used MY computer upstairs to do his dirty work. He never used my computer — he had his own private, locked office with his own computer. I think this was another one of his tests. How much would I believe? How dedicated to him were his children. Who would we tell about this? Would we make a big deal? Or would we believe his lies once again?

Shock. Lies. Denial. More lies. Control. Making a person question themselves. Making a person feel bad for ever questioning his motives.

I actually ended up apologizing to John over and over for being so stupid as to question him about this. I said, “I should have known better. I know you had a good reason for looking at that stuff. I don’t know why I ever questioned you.”

He smiled. Pure satisfaction.

So, I did what any brainwashed, dedicated wife would do. I sent out a family email to the older kids telling them that I talked to dad and everything was fine. I explained that he was researching for a sermon series and that it was unfortunate their sister had walked into my office at that moment. But, all was well and there was no need to worry.

I never brought the subject up again. Not ever. And, neither did the kids.

However, I find it interesting that I saved those emails from over fifteen years ago! In fact, I printed them off and kept them in my personal files. Deep inside of me I knew something was very wrong. I felt it. I had caught John in other lies but never made a big deal about it. My gut was telling me something was very wrong, but I just couldn’t put the pieces together!

Why didn’t I search on his computer? Keep in mind I never had access to his computer. His office was locked at all times and he held the only key to it. I also found out much later that he was very computer savvy. He knew how to hack into emails. He knew his way around a computer very effectively. He was no dummy! Still, I never questioned him. I was so intent on being a “good Christian wife” that I thought it would be wrong of me to do anything except completely believe him. He was a godly man, a godly father, and it was my duty to respect him at all times. And, I did!

Beware! Pedophiles are liars! Pedophiles are very involved in porn! Pedophiles test people. Pedophiles make sure they have won your complete trust. Pedophiles practice molesting over and over in their minds before they actually touch a child. They plan every detail. They make lists. They think of every possible scenario before making their move. They target who they will molest. They work methodically and precisely! Please get a copy of Conversations With a Pedophile. This book is a hard read, but it’s incredibly helpful! Learn about how a pedophile works from the very mouth of a man who was a practicing pedophile for years and is serving a life sentence in prison just like John!

I was trying so hard to be the Christian wife and mother — so worried about being completely trusting and all-forgiving, that I gave John the benefit of the doubt in all areas of life. And, I was teaching our kids to do the same. “Never question dad.” I was truly the perfect mate for a practicing pedophile. He pushed me aside time and time again while he was carrying out his manipulative, controlling plans in order to fulfill his evil, selfish lustful desire of children. How do I know? Because when he was arrested, the evidence was all there. And, by his own admission in court, this was his life for fifty years. Lies. Porn. Control. Child molestation.

Who is the child molester? The child molester can be anyone!

Who will be the next victim? Please don’t let it be your child! Keep your guard up at all times. Be careful who you trust! Look for the signs. Listen to the lies. “A minister has to view hard-core porn in order to teach about it.” Really? I wasn’t thinking! Does this mean that a minister has to molest children in order to teach about it? I was so incapable of thinking for myself that I tremble when I think I might have fallen for that lie, too! This is how victims are — incapable of thinking for themselves. They fall into the trap of believing the lies!

Learn from my life! Listen to me clearly! Watch for a person who is constantly studying people. Beware of the person who is “too good to be true” — always has his life in order, always in control, always helpful way beyond the call of duty, always offering to help babysit and take your children to the park to give you a break. You know what I’m talking about! And, remember — if your instinct tells you something is wrong, it probably is!

Work with me to keep our children safe! Together we can be a voice that is heard! Let’s make it so hard for these manipulative liars to get to our children that they finally walk away and give up!

Love,

Clara

If you are interested in having me speak to your mom’s group about putting plans in place to keep your children safe, please email me at clarahintonspeaker@gmail.com . I want to help!

Married to a Pedophile: The Bunnies that Disappeared

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Sometimes I hesitate to write certain stories from my life that were “red flags” about John’s secret life as a practicing pedophile because quite honestly it’s hard to write about these things and it’s shamefully embarrassing to me that I didn’t at least tell someone — anyone– what was going on. I think that’s the cry of every person who has been emotionally abused — fear of nobody believing you and also fear of being called stupid for putting up with so much wrong. I lived with both fears.

This story is graphic and if you are weak in the stomach, please do not read this one.It’s very difficult for me to think about, and I’ve tried and tried to shove it out of my mind, but the images are burned there forever. I will share only because I believe this information is important for you to know — this is information that clearly shows something was wrong with John. He was a gentle, kind person, and he was also one of the most cruel men I’ve ever known.

If you are new to this blog, I’d suggest you begin reading here. It will help you to get a bit of a background of the unfolding of how this mystery came to be solved.

By now, our kids were older and we had allowed them to have pets. Our oldest daughter chose a doggie, and he was adorable. He slept with her and he was truly our spoiled family pet. We had the usual parakeets, turtles, and fish, but this particular year one of the kid’s friends from school had some bunnies to give away so of course all we heard from morning ’til night was, “Please….please can we have a pet bunny? I promise to take good care of him. I’ll play with him and teach him tricks. I’ll feed and water him every day.” And, on and on it went. Well, as it turned out, we visited the farm, the kids chose their bunnies, and we came home with three of them. They were adorable!

The kids wrapped them in little blankets while John put the finishing touches on their bunny cages. They would stay in the side yard during the warm months, and during the winter months they would be brought into our garage for protection from the cold. The kids had used their allowance for the feeders, the straw, and the bunny pellets which they ate. And, so we became a family with a pet dog, several kittens, and now playful bunnies. Every day after school the kids would play with their pet bunnies in the yard. That is until they began growing larger and got a bit too frisky for them. Rabbits have sharp claws and they can give a pretty good bite, too!

It wasn’t but a couple of months into the pet bunny ordeal that the kids came to me and said, “Do you think we can give the bunnies back? They’re mean and they aren’t fun to play with anymore.” That was fine by me because quite truthfully I felt sorry for those rabbits always cooped up in their cages. What kind of life is that?

I talked to John about calling the farm to see if they wanted the rabbits back, but he stopped me on that idea. “No way! I have a better idea. We don’t have to call the farm. I’ll find a home for those little rascals on Saturday.”

Hmmm….I had no idea who John was giving the rabbits to, but I wasn’t at all worried about it. I was just glad that those poor things would find a good home. Our kids were afraid of them, and they just weren’t getting the attention they needed.

Saturday rolled around and I asked John if he was still taking care of the rabbits. “Yep. It’s a done deal. I’m going to wait ’til the kids are down for a nap.”

Nap time came and John went outside. He said, “I’m going to take care of those rabbits now.”

“Okay. Thank you!”

This is the part that is very hard for me to share. It’s grotesque and barbaric. It was so out of character with the man I thought I knew.

After about thirty minutes, John walked into the kitchen and said, “Hand me a baking pan. I’m cooking rabbit for supper.”

I froze in my spot in the kitchen. No. He wouldn’t do that to the kids pet rabbits. No way would he do that. John loved to hunt, but my goodness — these were family pets!

I could feel myself starting to cry. “What did you do? Please tell me! What did you do?”

John looked at me with a half grin, half smirk on his face as he calmly said, “We’re having rabbit for supper. Those things were hard to kill. They kept running around in their cages. I had to hold them down while I got them.”

My body is shaking as I’m telling this story because I truly became afraid of John that afternoon. For the very first time I knew with full assurance that he was capable of doing atrocious things. He said he took a hammer from the garage and hit each one on the head several times to kill them. He literally smashed in their skulls, skinned them, gutted them, and then wanted to prepare a feast with the pets he had just murdered.

I dropped to my knees screaming and I thought I was going to vomit. John had the most odd look on his face as if to say, “What is wrong with you? I’ve just brought home supper and this is how you act?”

He took the baking pan and brought in the rabbit meat as I sobbed and wondered how to tell the kids what had just happened. Do you know what? I don’t even remember what they were told. I’m drawing a blank. I want so badly to completely forget that scene, but it’s one that will never be forgotten. I saw a side of John — an evil, malicious side — that I never knew existed.

He breaded the rabbit meat and cooked it as he hummed a song in the kitchen. No, I did NOT eat any of the meat. I couldn’t bear to look at it. I just kept replaying over and over in my mind what it must have been like as he threw blow after blow onto the heads of those rabbits until they died.

I looked at John from a distance as he sat eating his rabbit meat, and I saw evil. I felt the evil. I knew at that point that something was terribly wrong, but I didn’t know what it was. He had crossed a line and had gone into territory that was reserved for those who were mentally ill, only he didn’t see it that way. He never thought there was a thing wrong with what he did! In fact, he said that was the best rabbit meat he had ever eaten!

The red flags were there! Something was very wrong with this man who could intentionally plan on killing his children’s pet rabbits in such an inhumane way and then sitting down at the dinner table and eating them. That look on John’s face — that sneer — was frightening. He looked like a different person. I knew from that moment forward that he was capable of inflicting pain on the innocent without feeling any remorse. I had seen it with my own eyes, but I didn’t know what to do.

Do you see what was going on here? John had crossed safe boundaries — he had exposed part of his dark side to me and I reacted just as he knew I would. I was shocked. I was repulsed. I was frightened. But I didn’t tell a soul. Ever. That was a well-kept secret without him ever threatening me not to tell.

Molesters do evil things to children. They hurt them on purpose. They do not feel remorse. They get a rush from doing it. They love the feeling of being in control — being the one with the hammer — and pounding down until there is no more breath left. In a most unusual way, John was exposing to me who he was, but I didn’t get it. I knew something was wrong, but……I slid deeper down into the hole of secrecy and despondency and never told anyone. However, from that day forward, a side of me always knew that he was not to be trusted. Ever.

What can you glean from this story? Two things are most important to remember. A child molester is charming and kind and sweet to others. I don’t think anyone would ever have believed this story had I told them. They would have looked at me in dismay and thought I was the biggest story-teller around. Never in one million years would kind Mr. John do anything harmful — not even to a flea! Wasn’t he the one that spent hours buidling the rabbit pens? Wasn’t he the one that went and got fresh straw for them every week?

Besides that, he loved and adored his children and he’d never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt them. My goodness! He was the most loving father ever! He never raised his voice. He never said a swear word. He was always funny and even-tempered with the kids. This is not something their dad would do!

A child molester always has an air-tight story. The kids always surrounded him with love and their complete allegiance. In their eyes, their dad could do no wrong!

Beware. I’ll say it again and again and again. Chances are very big that you know a child molester. Chances are that you trust a child molester. Chances are that you’ve had red flags waving in your face, but you keep saying, “No. Not this person. He is too kind. Too giving. Too loving. He has done so much good in our church and community.”

Familiarize yourself with some of the characteristics of a pedophile. If you think something is “off” — something is “wrong”, then report it. It’s better to err on the side of protecting our children than letting this behavior go on!

When I put together the Christmas gift, the skull for Mother’s Day, and the abominable eating of the pet rabbits, you can clearly see that there were dangerous red flags. Why didn’t I do anything? Think of the complexity of it all. John was a beloved preached. An adored father. Women swooned over him because of the way they thought he treated me. And, in public I was the adoring wife.

I felt like I was crazy. I was not crazy. I was living with a practicing pedophile — a man who continued to molest children up until the age of 63 when he was arrested.

Please don’t allow this same thing to happen again! Pay attention and take action! Pay attention in your churches, in your schools, in your daycares, in the homes of your children’s friends, with your babysitters….just pay attention!!!!

For the sake of all of the children, please be a voice!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: Halloween Monsters in Church!

Posted on October 21, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Every time Halloween rolls around, my thoughts go back to a special church service that took place in October about eleven years into my marriage. I can truly say it’s one that I will never forget, nor will anyone that was sitting in the audience ever forget. There are certain things that are burned into a person’s mind, and this is one of them.

Before I go further into the story, let me take this time to thank you for being here. Thanks for reading, for following along, and for “getting it” about the seriousness of emotional and sexual abuse, child molestation, and how important it is to provide a means for those who have been used and abused to find a healing place. If you are new to this blog, I strongly suggest that you begin here, and read each blog in chronological order because there is a progression from manipulation to molestation that is so important for you to understand.

Okay, back to this story. Continue reading →

Married to a Pedophile: The Most Unique Gift — Better Than Pinterest!

Posted on October 7, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Pinterest is the big craze right now, and I admit that I love visiting there, too. Fashion, cooking, and DIY crafts, and my favorite of all — flowers! Anything to do with flowers brightens up my day!

Ten years into our marriage, many years before anyone ever heard of Pinterest, John was a person who was “creative” with his gifts. We didn’t have much money at all for gift-giving with our growing family, so we often did things like searched at auctions for a piece of furniture, sanded it, and stained it and that was a “together” gift. I like that — a lot! Those were the kinds of gifts that had meaning and purpose!

I’m going to tell you about a gift that I received from John that is the most unique gift ever, and I feel fairly safe in saying that it was a one-of-a-kind never to be duplicated!

If you are new to this blog, I would strongly suggest you begin reading here in order to get the complete meaning of John’s gifts, his planning strategies for gifts, and to understand more completely the thought processes of this man who was a preacher, teacher, father, husband, insurance salesman, outdoorsman, and child molester. Yes, I did say child molester. For almost forty years (while we were married) John hid a very dark secret from me and countless others. He had begun molesting children at the age of fourteen and continued to do so until his arrest and conviction at age sixty-three.

Let me give a little bit of background to set the stage for this particular gift — a Mother’s Day gift. I was eleven days away from the due date of delivering my sixth child on Mother’s Day. My oldest daughter was now ten, and following her birth I now had five healthy, active little boys — stair steppers. They were fireballs full of energy, and I thank God for that!

We had just moved from the church parsonage to our home in the country that we were renting. We finally had a yard — a BIG yard for the kids to play in, and the house was far more than I could have ever asked for. It was lovely, and I remain living there to this day.

On this particular Sunday morning, I got up and got the younger kids ready for church while the older ones got dressed and ready for Sunday School. John was up at his usual time of 4:30 a.m. to study his lesson, but on this day he was dressed and showered early and was outside doing something. He popped his head into the kitchen to ask the three oldest kids to come outside with him, and that’s when my heart began racing. I was hoping upon all hope that he had somehow managed to get me a used rocking chair — the one we had looked at when we went to a second-hand shop. I fell in love with that rocker immediately, and my heart was dancing as I imagined rocking my new baby, in our new home, in that rocking chair!

I began putting the ham for lunch into the oven. I had already made the potatoes and salad. But, I didn’t make dessert this particular Sunday. Okay, I admit it. I was hoping that John would have bought a cake for dessert. Being this far along in my pregnancy, I didn’t feel much like cooking! And, it was Mother’s Day! I would have loved a day off from cooking!

The three older kids came running inside all out of breath! “Mom! Dad said to sit down in the livingroom. We have a Mother’s Day gift for you, and it’s gonna be great! Just wait until you see it!”

Can you feel my heart racing as you’re reading this? Honestly, I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. I was feeling so special — so blessed. It was Sunday — a beautiful day to begin with, plus it was Mother’s Day. And, here I was blessed with so many beautiful children, and another one about to be born. And, now this —– a surprise gift (that I was still praying would be that rocking chair)!

“Close your eyes, Mom! No peeking! Dad is finishing wrapping the gift and he wants all of us around you when you open it so he can take a picture.”

Can I just say that I was dying from the anticipation? This was about to be the happiest day of my life! I knew it! I absolutely knew it! I sat in the chair and gathered the kids around me. I even dabbed on some lipstick for the picture about to be taken. Every pregnant mom wants to look her best for a picture!

John called for the three oldest kids to come get the gift. “The gift is ready for Mother! You can come get it now!”

“Open your eyes, Mom! It’s time to open your gift!”

Ahhhh….ohhh…..I sighed with so much joy. The box was wrapped beautifully. I knew it wasn’t the rocking chair, but who cared? I knew this lovely surprise had been chosen just for me and that’s all that mattered.

I took my time untying the ribbons as the kids were jumping up and down with excitement yelling, “Open it faster! C’mon, faster, Mom!”

Finally, it was time to lift the lid to the box, and I could feel the happy, thankful tears begin to stream from my emotional face. Maybe this was the outfit the baby would wear home from the hospital. Maybe it was a lovely blouse for me to wear home from the hospital. No, maybe this was a delicious Mother’s Day cake with fluffy white frosting with “I love you” written across it.

I smiled softly at John as he stood nearby with the camera in his hand to capture this moment for us as a keepsake that we would have forever!

It was time to reveal the gift!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On Sunday, May 10, 1981 part of my heart died when I lifted the lid of that box. And, that part of my heart will forever remain dead. There is nothing or no one that could ever bring life back to the part of me that died that Mother’s Day morning.

Sitting inside of a beautifully wrapped box amid pure white tissue paper was the skull of an animal. Inside of the eye sockets of that skull John had placed purple wildflowers that he picked in the yard that morning. Because of the heat and humidity of that mid-May morning, the skull attracted flies and bugs. When the lid to the box was lifted, those bugs swarmed at my face.

I will never, ever forget that moment — ever. I cannot explain in human terms how much that hurt. I could never express to you the pain I felt that morning. I sat trance-like as the kids jumped up and down yelling, “Ewww…..where’d you find this skull, Dad? Is it a dead dog? A fox? A possum? What is it, Dad?”

The kids were young. A skull is exciting to a little boy, and I had five very excited little boys. They thought it was a really “cool” gift that their dad got me. How would they know any different?

I remember looking up at John and he had the most horrifying sneer on his face — almost scary. He enjoyed seeing me hurt. I could feel it. I saw it on his face. And, I knew on that day in May that I no longer loved this man with all of my being. This time the pain had gone too deep. He cut out a piece of my heart, stomped on it, and killed it. He killed part of my spirit that day and that part of my heart has never come back to life.

The ride to church was quiet on that Sunday, Mother’s Day morning. I looked out the car window and softly cried. I wanted to scream and sob and punch in a wall but I held a tissue over my mouth and muffled my voice so the kids wouldn’t hear me crying. I didn’t want them telling everyone at church that I had been crying.

Somehow, I prayed to God that it was all a big, ugly joke. I prayed that when we went home there would miraculously be the rocking chair sitting in the middle of the room. Of course you and I know that wasn’t so. My gift was a rotting skull with flies flying from the eye sockets. And, I knew from that moment on that I was nothing more than a convenience for John. Love doesn’t hurt like that. Love would never hurt like that!

It was years until I shared that story with a counselor and I remember the odd look on her face. She simply said, “Maybe he has a personality disorder.” And, it was dismissed. That left me feeling a bit crazy. Maybe I was overly emotional because of the pregnancy on that particular day. Maybe it was just meant to be a funny kind of joke. Victims of abuse always have a thousand reasons why it’s always their fault. Victims of abuse never want to hold the abuser accountable. Victims feel ashamed and powerless.

The red flags of manipulation and control that are part of a practicing pedophile’s profile were there! The kids thought their dad was the absolute best! He told funny stories that made them laugh so hard they would cry. He loved playing basketball with them. He built campfires and told scary stories. He took them on nature hikes. He was, in their words, “the best dad in the world.”

I was the one who disciplined. I was the one who made them pick up their dirty laundry, clear away their dinner plates, make their beds. I was the mean mother who lost her temper and was never fun. I was the cranky one. The one who didn’t have a sense of humor.

John was building up his airtight support system! He used “shock” methods in front of the kids to desensitize them to the wrong he was doing to me, and later on to the children in the community. Why would his kids ever believe wrong about their dad who was their hero? Besides, I was the perfect enabler. I didn’t call him on the carpet for things such as the skull gift, so they didn’t really see anything too wrong with that. I didn’t speak badly of John to the kids. In fact, this story never got out. Isn’t it amazing how this was an “understood” thing that none of us would talk about in public? As young as the kids were nobody told them not to say anything at church. And, believe me, tons of people were asking me what I got for Mother’s Day. I just said through dripping eyes, “John got me a special surprise.” And, their response — “You’re the luckiest woman I know! My husband would never get me anything for Mother’s Day — not even a card!” If only they had known………..

Pedophiles who molest children are liars. They manipulate. They control. They build a wall of support so that nobody — and I mean nobody — would ever suspect them of molesting a child! John was loved and adored by his children. He was cherished by the people of the church where he served as minister. He was a servant to people in the community. He went out of his way to show love to others. He was a practicing pedophile and he was masterful at grooming his victims!

Memorize this quote and keep saying it until you really understand and believe it: After a molester is exposed, it is common for adults to say things like, “He was the last guy I would suspect to do something like this.” Molesters become friends to adults, helping them out, being friendly and nice, and just doing things that friends would do. They don’t do this out of kindness; they do this to get to your children.

For the sake of the children, let’s speak out! It’s time to bring these actions to a halt!

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Again, thank you! Together we are making a difference!

Finding A Healing Place

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