A Story of Recovery:

Courtroom Calm

Last year I was reporting on one of the biggest murder cases of the past decade, and I made the most basic of errors: I made an assumption about a legal issue. The assumption turned to fact in my head, and I never checked whether or not it was true. It wasn’t. I reported on the case and so broke the law of contempt.

This was the biggest mistake of my career. Bigger than when I was eating addictively and would regularly be late because I had to stop at the drive-thru on the way to work, despite having just finished breakfast. Bigger than when I would spend most of the day in the office toilet, crying. Bigger even than when I was eventually fired for being “rude, abrupt, and causing a bad feeling.” (I was always a joy when I was in the food!)

The first I heard about this was when the police phoned me. As they explained to me the seriousness of what I had done, I felt the room spin. I learned that my radio station could be fined and closed down, but even worse, that the trial might have to be abandoned and the family of the 13-year-old kidnapped and murdered girl might not get the justice they had been waiting nine years for. I can’t even remember praying, but my silent cry must have been heard, because everything I had learned in FA started to kick in. I couldn’t deny what I had done as I would have done in the past. I didn’t feel the need to name other media organizations that had also made the same mistake as I had. This was my mistake and I simply owned up and apologized.

I went outside, made FA calls, and cried. Then I went and owned up to my bosses. Again, I’ve learned that I can’t simply make things go away by pretending they’re not happening. FA has taught me to put on my big girl pants and face things head on. There is such self-respect in that! Then began the many calls to deal with the problem and make amends. I did things one step at a time, praying constantly. If I had stopped to think about the bigger picture, I would have sunk.

The police never arrested me. In fact, they advocated on my behalf, because they had been so impressed with the way I behaved. I know that my behaviour had nothing really to do with me. God gave me the willingness to put into action the tools and principles of FA.

The judge, however, was a different matter. As I went to the next session of the murder trial, I was told that His Honour would be speaking to me in court. When I was called upon, I was to stand and give my account. I gulped, I prayed, and I walked in. I sat in the press box, alongside about 60 of the world’s media representatives, whom I desperately wanted to impress, and waited for the judge to arrive. I felt sick. I kept repeating the serenity prayer. And then this amazing calmness crept over me; I realized there was nothing I could do to prevent this from happening, so I might as well try to relax, speak to my fellow reporters about what was going on, and deal with whatever happened when it happened.

The judge was 30 minutes late, so I sat there for an hour and, thank you God, the judge didn’t call on me! He spoke to all the journalists at length about what we could and couldn’t report, without naming names. I was fine. The trial proceeded and the murdered girl’s family finally got the justice they deserved.

When I think about how I would have handled this before coming into FA, it’s like comparing night and day. I realize how much I’ve changed and want to keep changing. I know now that when I get myself out of the way, God really does for me what I cannot do for myself.