Ten months after the ICE agents raided our house and took all our computers, and about three months after I had--at first cautiously and then happily--decided nothing was going to happen, we got word that the federal prosecutor is going to charge my husband with receipt of child pornography. Once again, our world came crashing down.
The "world crashing down" is a cliche, I know, but that is exactly what it feels like. Little bits and great chunks of my life have fallen into a heap around me. Here, I can see the little bit that is our simple expectation that we would watch football games together, over there is the big chunk that represents security, and crunching underfoot is what used to be our comfortable marital division of labor.
When I think of the huge numbers of families to whom this happens, I am overcome with grief for them. Grief for our own situation is numbing, horrifying, infuriating.
Laws against child pornography are justified in terms of protecting children so it is astounding to see that protecting my own children is not what the feds are thinking about. They weren't thinking about protecting my children when they planned to raid our house at a time when they knew the children would be there. They weren't thinking of protecting my children when they came in with weapons drawn. They weren't thinking of protecting my children when they chose to humiliate their dad in front of them. Protecting children is not what ICE is about.
So, here we are, praying and making plans about how to keep our family safe and strong with my husband in prison. Fortunately, we have not wasted the past year; we have already begun talking about how I will handle finances and home maintenance without my husband. In the months we have left--because everything takes longer than expected--we will continue with the prayers and plans.
If you can find it in your heart to pray for our family, I would appreciate it. We all would.