Not guilty

I think, like all my trial junkie friends, I watched the verdict with my jaw dropped completely to the floor.  Caylee didn’t get dead in a garbage bag in the woods all by herself, no matter how active a toddler she may have been.  Someone else did that to her.

Was it her mother?

We’ll probably never ever know.  OJ Simpson finally wrote a book on how he did it, but I suspect no one will let Casey be that stupid even if she tries.  Before we head to Orlando with our blazing torches and pitchforks, though, here’s what we have to decide — Will we take the American justice system when it fails on the assumption that the majority of time it works?  Are we ready to stand behind the concept of “innocent until proven guilty” even when all roads lead to a garbage bag in the woods? . . . Or are we willing to take our chances with a different system of justice?

I’m not.

Here’s why — I believe in a God of justice.  Sometimes on this earth it seems like there is no fairness and no justice, but the Bible says that in the end, God himself will weigh things out.  Right here and now she had to stand in front of a jury of her peers who were given only the information the court deemed pertinent to the case.  At some point in time, she will have to answer to the God who sees all and knows all.  He knows what happened, and He will decide at that time how to balance out her eternity.

Frankly, that idea makes me a little nervous as well.  There are things that I have done that He will know that no one else does, and He will call me into account for them.  That’s why I like the Jesus deal.  I believe Jesus traded his life, so that when I stand before God I will be innocent — not just not guilty. Because I believe that, I live my life avoiding things like lying to the police, my parents, myself, and I try to keep my children out of harm’s way.

No matter what you think really happened, surely we can agree Casey is not well.  She cannot tell the truth — maybe because she has no concept of reality.  I’m not saying I feel sorry for her, but I don’t think she knows she’s crazy, and as I have learned over the years, realizing the extent of your sanity is what life is all about.

At least I know I’m crazy.


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