My vile contempt for those two institutions has to do with what they did once they knew there was a predator on their campus. Let this be a warning to us all, if we want to be counted as decent human beings in a civil society...it's one thing if you do not know that something is happening. It's a whole other ball game if you know something and then choose to do nothing about it.
It's what you do once you know that counts. For our civil society to remain civil, we all must be held personally responsible for our actions. And there must be swift accountability and justice when our actions affect the most vulnerable of our citizens...our children.
Edmund Burke said it so powerfully: "all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." I guess the administrators at Penn State and those in our situation didn't understand the heart of the statement. Or just didn't care. Whatever the case, they made themselves perfect examples of it's truth.
Unlike any of the above mentioned people, I know that I can go to bed at night with peace in my heart, knowing that I did all that I could--once I knew what was going on--and my children know it. If I live to be 84 and am diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, I will not be saying "I wish I had done more."
Although I will always carry the guilt of having not protected my child, I will be able to die with a clear conscience regarding this matter because I did the right thing, once I knew.
The only regret I do have is not allowing the "mama bear" in me to come out sooner. I was stupid and naive to think that I was dealing with like-minded decent people, who believed that the safety of children was more important than the rights of a child-predator. My bad.
Just a word to anyone who dares to mess with me now: I'm what you get when you crossbreed a female Kodiak grizzly bear with (Hugh Jackman's) "Wolverine." I can't show you a picture of it, but I can guarantee that you will not survive an encounter with me.
I hate to say that about myself now, but being screwed over by people who call themselves "Christians" has made me so. My rose-colored glasses are off now, and you're only a christian if you can prove to me that you're a decent human being first.
Thus my beef with church...not so much with God anymore, but rather with those who claim to represent him. My biggest struggle is learning not to throw out the baby with the bath water, so God has me learning that lesson in a little bridal shop in town. Little by little he's giving me small doses of true Christianity in the friendships I've made with the ladies at the shop.
Our oldest daughter actually had the job before I did. These ladies were there for her while we were going through our personal hell, and they've been there for me, patiently, as I recover.
I guess anyone who is in rehab of any kind needs a sponsor...I have three.
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