That Day Is Coming!

My stomach clinched tight and heart started to pound as I listened to the message on my voicemail at work today. It was from Becky, my probation officer. She was calling to tell me that my "psycho-sexual evaluation" had come back and that I needed to get into a treatment program immediately. Don't pass Go, don't collect $200! It sounded that serious. What did it mean? She said that she had talked to Dr. Arnholt and that I needed to start in the treatment program in three days and that I needed to call her back as soon as I got the message.

I sat there for a minute and replayed the message. Then I pulled her tattered business card out of the back of my wallet where I tried to keep it concealed and called her office. I figured I wouldn't catch her because it was already after 12:00 noon and that she would be out to lunch. I was right, but I left her a message that I would call her back after lunch and to confirm that I had received her message.

As John and I went to lunch, my stomach was still in knots. I wasn't really sure why. I had already accepted the fact, and actually embraced the idea, that I would be entering a sex offender treatment program. But it was the tone of her message that set me back. Was the content of my evaluation so serious that she, or Dr. Arnholt, thought that I was a serious risk to re-offend if I wasn't in treatment right now? Did the evaluation show that there are serious issues that I haven't dealt with yet? Why didn't Dr. Arnholt call me if the results were so bad. I just couldn't shake the thoughts from my mind.

When I got back from lunch, I called Becky back and again got her voice-mail. I left her a message to call me when she got in and I went back to work. A short while later, I got her call. Her tone this time was a little less intense than her message had been. I simply told her that I got her voice-mail and that I would be at the treatment this week. We talked for a few minutes and she never mentioned the seriousness of the situation. I talked about wanting to find a new place to live but it seemed everyplace I looked at had playgrounds attached. She simply said that was going to be a problem and that I would probably have to live in a duplex or maybe even try to rent out a basement from someone. Where was a little bit of compassion? Where was a little bit of concern about what I was facing? It struck me how fortunate I am to have the support system around me that has enabled me to survive the past six months as well as I have.

I'm kind of looking forward to tomorrow night...my first session, but I'm a little anxious as well. I have no idea what to expect, but God does. I have no doubt that He is orchestrating every aspect of my life right now and I just need to be obedient and submissive to His will. I believe there will be healing for me in treatment...that there will be questions answered that I haven't been able to find on my own. I thank God for that and look forward to that healing. I also look forward to the day when I have some sense of freedom again...a freedom to choose where I live and where I travel. Who I spend my time with and how I spend my money. That day is in the future...but it is there!