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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All I could think when I read this was ” how many women have I seen in church who seemed to act “perfect or are obsessive/compulsive ” are experiencing lives like yours?” I just cannot fathom that a man who claimed to be a Christian and a pastor no less could be capable of doing such things and still be able to live with himself. It definitely gives me more motivation to show compassion on those that seem to have perfect Christian lives yet seem incapable of reaching out to others. You have given me much to repent of in my attitude toward certain people that I know. My question is – what would have been the best way for someone to reach out to you and say ” something is going on – can I help” I know you said that your self image and fear would such that you felt incapable but how could “people like us” break through that and be a means of bringing healing? and how can we tell the difference between someone who is just generally not willing to talk about themselves or has their limit of who they want to share with and those like you who have reason to be afraid? Sorry about bombarding you with questions. If you plan on doing posts about that later I can wait !
Shirley, You’ve asked some great questions, and I will be addressing those much later on in this blog series. For now, though, let me just say that simply showing that you care is a great ice breaker and beginning. I longed for frienship, but I think most people were a bit “jealous” thinking I had the perfect life. Plus, I was a preacher’s wife which made it even a bit more difficult. I was expected to be the one reaching out — not the one receiving.
People who have been emotionally (and physically) abused have trust issues, and that makes it difficult, too, when others are reaching out. I kept an arm’s length away because I did’t want to allow myself to get hurt anymore. So, keep trying to extend friendship. It’s one of those things that is going to take time buidling up a frienship.
My best advice — genuinely care. More on this alter. I’m so glad you had the wisdom and forsight to ask such great questions. 🙂
Clara, would John have wrecked your friendships by telling those people you were telling lies if saying anything about him he didn’t like?
I have stopped making real friendships at my church because of that. My husband will wreck all my friendships if he can. He has forbidden me to talk about our home life with anybody, including family.
When the church we’re in now got a new pastor, we switched to this church. I asked to speak to the pastor in private (we talked sitting in the sanctuary, with the secretary in her office being able to see, but not hear us, which I appreciated).
I told him that my husband was an abusive, manipulative self-righteous man, who would be an elder in no time if allowed. I told him about the abuse etc. And he said that I had his word that no self-righteous man would become an elder in his church.
Then his wife befriended me, and encouraged me to share my heart. And she agreed that my husband is abusive. We talked about that many times.
Fast forward six months, and my husband was asked to be an elder. The pastor came to our house and asked me in front of my husband if I saw any good reason why my husband shouldn’t be an elder! I was put on the spot, and HAD to say, no. So, he has been an elder for ten years now, of course.
Then, when I was visiting my family in another country six years ago, the pastor and his wife met with my husband. And our pastor apparently told my husband that neither one of them had ever agreed with me that my husband was abusive towards me. And his wife remained silent. And later in the conversation she said that I had a problem, and was unwilling to change to be a better wife!
I had been betrayed by my own pastor and his wife, who I believed was my friend.
My husband told me all this on the phone, in this gleeful tone of voice. He had won again!
I sent the pastor’s wife an e-mail, asking her if what my husband told me had really happened that way. And that if it had, she had betrayed our friendship and by her silence lied to boot, as she had agreed many times that he was abusive.
She never replied.
The only friends I have are a couple who my husband doesn’t like and who would NEVER believe him over me, and two of his first cousins and their wives (those cousin’s wives are two of my closest friends, and I can tell them anything, but they don’t live close).
We have a new pastor now, who started last year. I really like him, and his wife really wants to be my friend, and I like her very much.
BUT of course, the pastor and my husband are great friends (my husband hides his real self, of course and NEVER tells his ‘friends’ anything personal, it is always about evangelizing and ‘pleasing Jesus’), and so I can’t be his wife’s friend, or the same thing would happen again.
Karin, Unless a person has gone through this type of mental abuse, they won’t get it. They won’t fully understand what you’re saying, but believe me when I say, “I get it.” I’m so very sorry that you’re still in this type of relationship. Living with that type of lie is horrible — it’s like we’re forced to live a double life — the life that others see, and the life that is really “our life.” It literally sickens me that your husband is an elder in the church. I understand, though, because to others he is next to God. I’m sure people absolutely adore him and no amount of talking from you will change their thinking. In fact, it would just make you look worse.
The one thing that helped me break away was using total silence. John didn’t do well with that, and, yes, he did talk badly about me to others making sure I didn’t have any close friends. But, through a series of events I was forced back into the work world and was able to make my own friends. I NEVER talked badly about John to others (I knew they’d never believe me) — I simply let him be himself. It took almost ten years before the true John began coming out, but it happened!
You are definitely in my thoughts and prayers. I wish so much you weren’t emotionally chained to this man.
You’re right that everybody adores him and thinks he is a great man of God.
He actually doesn’t speak badly of me, in fact, people tell me that in front of others he praises me and makes me sound like a saint. Which only makes things worse. In public he is the most concerned husband, holding doors, helping me etc. So people think he is the most perfect husband.
But at home I get nothing but putdowns and lectures!
So, if I would leave him, NOBODY would be on my side. I would also have to leave my church. And I might lose my children and grandchildren (we have 17 grandchildren, soon 18).
I am very close to my grandchildren, they adore me and I love them. How could I risk losing them?
Our son is the youth pastor in our church, too.
Isn’t this interesting? John spoke highly of me for about the first 36 or 37 years of our marriage UNTIL I made it clear that I was not going to stay with him. Then, the “talking about me” began, and let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. People snubbed me, some wouldn’t talk to me, some told me to my face how horrible I was. But, I remained totally silent during this time. It was really hard because my children believed I was being horrible to John and he most definitely had them on his side. (Kids should never have to take sides!) Anyway, in the end, the horrible truth came out.
Even though it looks almost impossible that your children will understand, I think if they were ever given the opportunity to see the “real dad” they would most definitely be understanding.
It’s hard — so, very hard to deal with any type of manipulative, ongoing, dictating abuse. Again, I’m so sorry. 🙁
I can only imagine how hard it was to write this and relive it all again. emotional abuse…it staggers the mind. I’m so sorry.
Beth, Thank you. This was an especially difficult one for me to write. The subconscious tucks away so much and when I wrote this I think a lot of pain was released. That part is helpful. I hope and pray others who have suffered such abuse will find healing, too.
I NEVER in a million years would have guessed what was in that box. I can not even fathom that a person would think of giving that to their spouse as a “gift.” This truly shows how deranged he really is. I’m sorry that you had to endure all those years of pain. Gods blessings to you always!! Thank you for sharing!!
Paula, In all of the interactions that I’ve had with people, all of the reading I’ve done, etc., I’ve never heard of anything like this, either. I’m sure that there was some kind of significance to the skull, but I’m better off not knowing. All I know is that I knew at that moment that he was not normal. Nobody in his right mind would ever give their wife (that he insisted he adored) a gift like that. I think of all of the planning he went to in order to find the skull, find a box that it fit in, purchase wrapping paper, etc. It is very sick. And, it still hurts to this day. 🙁
No words.
Linda, There really are no words. It’s terrible, yet I know this goes on day after day for so many people — adults and children alike. It’s all so wrong! We simply must find a way to help those who are in these abusive situations. We must be their eyes, their ears, and their mouthpieces! Thank you for reading — I know this isn’t easy.
I felt sick to the bottom of my stomach. I knew it was going to be mean, but this was depraved. I can only imagine how difficult this was for you to reveal. I have secrets that to others would seem nothing terrible, but the pain to my inner being was immense. As you say, a part of you died and like you I felt shame. It must have been my fault after all. I’m so glad you were able to share this with us. It takes a lot of courage. But it’s so helpful for those who have been wounded for someone to point out the lies.
We do feel such shame and worthlessness. I believe that’s what actions like this are meant to do — strip us of all self-worth. It’s so hard to share these personal things that I’ve told so few, but I know it will be empowering to so many to know they have not been alone. We are survivors — we must pave the way for others who have suffered at the hand of physical and mental abuse. Thanks so much for your comment!