More Questions Than Answers

For a while, I struggled with whether or not I wanted to attend the court hearing(s) for my brother's murder case. Of course it's not something anyone wants to do. But I found myself feeling like I needed to.

Could I remain composed while sitting in the same room with the man who violently took my own brother's life?

Probably not. 

But I wanted to be sure that Josh was represented in that room. 

He was not just another victim.
He was a real person.

Someone needed to be the face of what was stolen.

A vibrant life.

Would I be able to stomach the gruesome and unimaginable details of his death?

Definitely not.

But the unanswered questions I had about that night were haunting me.
I had an indescribable need to know what happened to him.
Desperate for some closure.
To know how he was hurt.
How he died.

We heard the defendant's story of what happened that night,

shared though testimony of one of the responding officers. 

Silent and cowardly witnesses claim a different set of circumstance. 

We will likely never know the truth. 

The defense attempted to rip apart Josh's character,

claiming he was the aggressor in the altercation. 

As if that was reason enough to justify the suffering he endured.

Even if it were true, there was simply no purpose for his brutal murder. 

The gut wrenching details of Josh's specific injuries were calmly spoken. 

There was no emotion from the court as each wound was described.

But we sat in agony, hearing of them for the first time...

and as we listened, we felt the pain. 

The man accused has pled not guilty. 

They've filed to suppress his self-incriminating statements.

There will be one more hearing where the plea can be changed 

and that will determine if we go to trial. 

Frequent updates come to me from our victim's advocate. 

I am so grateful for her and the agency.

She called recently to ask a question that has no easy answer.

A question impossible for me to answer.

If the state were to make an offer, what minimum sentence would you be comfortable with?

My first thought was: Who am I to say?

I've spent so much time inside my head to think of how to respond.

But I've come up with nothing but these thoughts:

What options are left to consider?

The worst outcome has already come to pass.

No length of sentence will bring Josh back.

The balance cannot be made even. 

So what remains on the scale to weigh?

I do not have anger in my heart. 

By the grace of God and passing time,

I've been able to find some rest.

I am hurt... but I'm not bitter. 

I know this man has a family. 

They must be deeply hurting as well. 

I want the guilty party to be punished...

But his children do not deserve to be. 

I cannot speak for the rest of my family

but I keep coming back to these final thoughts:

A lengthy prison sentence means nothing to me...
especially if it's handed down to someone who maintains their innocence
after being found guilty.

I'd rather see a lesser sentence,
as long as it carried with it an acceptance of responsibility taken
for what happened to Josh.

My brother was stabbed four times.

It is an indisputable fact that he was killed at the hands of another person.

Someone is responsible for this violent crime.

I don't want to hear a cover up story.

I simply want that person to admit they made a horrible mistake...

So I can begin the process of forgiving them.