What a duty

Tuesday, January 8th, I had to report at 8:30 a.m. downtown for jury duty. While a friend had told me Sunday that a particular trial was starting, I didn't give it another thought until sitting in the jury duty room waiting for my number to be called (hoping it wouldn't be).

When I received my summons back in December, I thought about using the business reason to be excused since work has been really hectic. Then, as I prayed, the Lord reminded me that all of my days are held in His hand, crafted into His perfect plan. If I believe that, then this was in His will for me. So I decided to answer the summons. I figured that I would go sit for the morning and then be dismissed like my husband had been back in November when he was called. And I actually think it an honor to serve. While our justice system has many flaws, it is still the best in the world. So not wanting to serve was based more on the timing this particular week.

I should have known something was up when there was standing room only and we were told this was the largest jury pool ever called in our county's history. We were told there were 8 judges beginning trials that morning. One set of jurors was called, then another, then another—the largest one yet. Maybe I wouldn't have to serve. Then they began calling numbers for another pool. And calling, and calling, and calling. The longer the line of potential jurors got, the more persuaded everyone in the room was about which trial this was for. My name was called and I went toward the back of the line. By the time they finished calling names, there were over 70 people all standing in line to be taken up for questioning as potential jurors on a notorious case.

This case was the most serious our county has faced in many years. This was the case of the man who shot and killed one of our police officers in 2006. This was the first death on our police force in 20 years. Our whole city grieved deeply. And here I was in the jury pool.

When they took us up to the court room and they then sat us according to a seating chart—my seat was front row. After I took my seat, I looked around the courtroom curiously and then my heart began pounding fiercely as the gravity of the situation was brought home to me as I recognized the defendant from pictures I'd seen in the paper.

The most frightening thing wasn't that he was sitting just across the room from me, but when I looked in the defendant's eyes, they were totally dark. I have never seen any eyes so leaden, flat and void of feeling. Here was a man who has given himself totally over to evil. My soul shuddered and I began praying for him. Even he is not beyond God's reach.

The judge gave us instructions and we filled out more questionnaires and then were told to return after lunch. On the questionnaire I had to list what I remembered or had heard and what I thought of the defendant. When we returned, numerous jurors were called for various times over the remainder of the afternoon and the following morning. All called had to report for individual questioning in chambers with the judge, his staff, both sets of lawyers and the defendant. My turn was the following morning at 8:30.

After a fairly restless night, feeling somewhat anxious and burdened by this possibility of the trial, I returned to the courtroom. When my name was called, the clerk escorted me to the chambers where I faced the gauntlet of questions. First the judge—did I believe I could be objective even though I remembered the facts of the case fairly well? I told him I would abide by the rules if selected. The prosecution asked about the details I remembered from the case.

Then came the questioning from the defense. The lawyer attacked me like a ferocious guard dog asking me several times if I could be objective since I thought the defendant was guilty. And every time I replied that while I thought he was guilty, I would abide by the rules if selected. I was dismissed from the room while they discussed me and then I was told to return that afternoon for more questioning.

After spending the morning working at a nearby coffee shop, and eating lunch with my husband who was having his own struggles with the possibility of my serving on this jury (due to my very sensitive nature feeling for those who are hurt), I returned to the court.

After the emotional roller coaster that morning, the afternoon was a let-down. After the individual questioning, we were down to a jury pool of about 55 and they would not being general jury questioning with less than 75 in the pool. So we were dismissed and told to return again the following afternoon. In the meantime, more jurors would be called up to go through the same steps we had in order to fill the pool.

After another restless night and a morning of trying to get some work done, I reported again for duty. This time my assigned seat was front and center, directly behind the prosecution, right in front of the bar. This part of the process was incredibly interesting as each side questioned and had discussions with the entire pool, basically laying out what the charges the prosecution would be trying to prove—first degree murder—and the defense—self-defense—that the other side was claiming.

The uncomfortable part came when I was pinned by the defense again when the lawyer kept going over the presumed innocent part of the law and asking if anyone had a problem with that in this case. I finally had to speak up. From what I had read when the crime had happened, I knew the man was guilty. Even the defense was saying he had killed the police officer. While the defense wanted me dismissed immediately, the judge would not allow any dismissals until they had completed the questioning. We were dismissed for the evening and told once again to return the following morning.

By that evening I was absolutely exhausted. I couldn't believe how tired I was physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I crawled into bed by 8:30 and tossed and turned my way through one more night.

Friday morning, I reported. The defense continued their questioning and a couple more people finally said they thought they could not be objective either as they thought the defendant guilty as well. After a couple of hours of this, they finally began dismissing jurors to whittle down to the needed number. I was the second person dismissed.

During this time, several other potential jurors had come up to me during breaks to tell me what courage I had to speak up to the defense lawyer the way I did . Honestly, I rarely speak up in situations like that. I would rather stay silent and pray and let someone else take the heat. That day the Lord required me to speak. And several people told me they had courage to speak up because I had. God can and does use all things.

I have followed the trial closely and will continue to do so until it is settled. I feel a deep responsibility to pray over every part of the proceedings and over each person in the courtroom. I pray that the prosecution lays their case out clearly and fully. I pray that the judge rules wisely on every point of law. I pray for the defense lawyers, the clerks, and the recorder. I pray for the defendant–God's arm is not too short to save this man even while he faces the justice he deserves. I pray for the jurors: that they will see the truth , that they will rule justly, that they will abide by the rules of law, that they will have the strength they need for the emotions they are going through. I pray for order in every aspect of the court and that justice and truth to prevail.

Blessings,