Stardate 12.01.2025
While I was putting the finishing touches on the magical forest yesterday, I reached for a dusty box tucked behind a stack of old studio gear. Inside were papers I hadn’t seen in more than a decade — legal papers from a chapter of our lives that carried more weight than I like to admit.
Finding them felt like discovering a ghost from an old battlefield… except this time, instead of fear, all I felt was gratitude for how far we’ve come.
Thirteen years ago, after we moved to Iowa, a third-party debt collector sued my wife.
Not because she owed anything.
Not because she had done anything wrong.
But because I was the one who had dug the deep hole.
I was the one they wanted.
But she was the one they believed they could break.
That part still stings when I think about it.
When the summons came, we had no attorney nor could we afford one. They had three owners of a law firm listed on the case. At first glance, it looked like a giant against two tired travelers just trying to rebuild their lives. We were the Davids in the David vs. Goliath story and we didn't even have five stones and a sling to face the Zombie debt collector who was stalking us all the way from California.
But we didn’t run.
I threw myself into the research — hours learning the FDCPA, studying the process, figuring out exactly what they were trying to pull. I was the one documenting every call, sending certified letters, filing requests, building the paper trail piece by piece. Quiet work, steady work, the kind no one sees but everyone feels the moment truth steps forward.
And then came the part that still fills me with awe:
My wife stood in the place I couldn’t.
She walked into that courtroom carrying the weight of my mistakes… and the strength of everything we’d prepared together.
She didn’t argue.
She didn’t raise her voice.
She simply told the judge the truth — that the plaintiff had refused to respond to phone calls, certified letters, or even a motion to compel my wife filed so we could respond properly to the debt monster.
That calm clarity shifted everything.
The judge ordered the collectors to comply within ten days or face sanctions. Ten days later — the final day, the last possible moment — they dismissed the case.
But the story didn’t end there.
When the collectors ignored our cease-and-desist and kept calling, I documented every violation. We reported them to the Iowa Department of Justice, and senior counsel responded directly. That was the moment the entire pipeline of alleged debts slammed shut.
Not one more attempt.
Not one more threat.
Not one more whisper from that direction.
And I know why.
They realized we weren’t afraid.
We weren’t uninformed.
We weren’t easy targets.
When they couldn’t produce proof, they tried a shortcut called 'Account Stated' — a claim that only works if both parties silently 'agree' that a debt exists. But they received a written denial of the alleged debt, a formal demand for proof of ownership, and requests for documents they didn’t have. Spock would say their entire case was illogical. Indeed.
Without agreement, their argument collapsed.
Without evidence, their case died.
Without compliance, the judge stepped in.
And when the DOJ began to watch… the collectors disappeared.
So there I stood yesterday in the studio, magical forest lights glowing softly around me, holding those old papers. Once, they felt like symbols of fear and failure. Now they feel like markers of grace — reminders of how God carried us, how my wife stood strong, and how perseverance turned a painful chapter into a quiet victory.
Those papers are now part of our story, joining the odd treasures that light up the forest — like Dad’s fake shillelagh from Mulligans. They stand as a reminder that even when we’ve dug the hole ourselves… redemption is possible. Healing is possible. Victory is possible.
If you ever stop by, I’ll show you where I found them.
They’ve earned their place among the lights, the memories, and the miracles that brought us here.
More magic tomorrow.
Have a blessed day.
Captain’s Addendum — Spock & Bones
Spock:
“Doctor, it appears the collectors miscalculated. They assumed intimidation would override logic. Instead, logic dismantled their case entirely.”
Bones:
“Spock, for once I agree with you. But let’s not forget the real miracle — Michael finally let someone stand with him instead of trying to shoulder the whole universe alone.”
Spock:
“An efficient distribution of emotional and strategic resources.”
Bones:
“Good grief, man… it’s called a marriage.”
Michael’s Reflection:
Their banter always reminds me of the balance we’re all learning to walk — truth with tenderness, courage with grace. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let someone stand beside you.
Scripture for the Journey
“But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.”
— Isaiah 40:31
May this promise strengthen anyone facing old battles, unexpected summonses, or the weight of consequences. God meets us even in the places we created ourselves — and He leads us out stronger than we entered.
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