Why I’m writing this (and why faith belongs in a court-user toolkit)

Let me be plain: family court can feel like wilderness. It can be confusing, exhausting, and sometimes psychologically destabilising—particularly if you are facing a controlling, manipulative, or hostile other party, or if you’re trying to communicate safeguarding concerns clearly without being dismissed as “emotional” or “difficult.”

In the UK, a significant number of parents and parties appear without representation. Some do so by choice; many do so because they cannot access or afford legal advice. The system expects you to comply with process, deadlines, and evidence standards whether or not you have a lawyer. That is the reality.

Faith—properly understood—doesn’t replace competence. It fuels it. It gives meaning to disciplined action. It helps you hold your nerve, keep your integrity, and make decisions that protect your child long-term rather than “winning” the next argument.

The Church lesson this week is not “soft.” Genesis 18–23 contains joy, horror, fear, grief, and law-like transactions. It speaks directly to anyone trying to remain spiritually grounded while navigating a world that can be unjust, corrupt, or unsafe.

Genesis 18–23: a quick narrative map (and why it matters to LiPs)

The Come, Follow Me reading covers:

1. Genesis 18 — Sarah is promised a child; Abraham intercedes for Sodom.
2. Genesis 19 — Sodom falls; Lot’s family flees; Lot’s wife looks back.
3. Genesis 20 — Abraham’s fear-driven misstep; God intervenes to protect the covenant promise.
4. Genesis 21 — Isaac is born; conflict and separation happen; a treaty is made.
5. Genesis 22 — Abraham is tested with Isaac (the “Akedah”).
6. Genesis 23 — Sarah dies; Abraham negotiates and purchases land formally.

If you’re a litigant in person, you can read that and think: “What has this got to do with my case?” Plenty. This is a blueprint for how humans behave under pressure—and what it looks like to keep moving forward without being destroyed by the environment.

For additional Latter-day Saint commentary on this week’s reading, you may find this helpful: Church News: “What have Church leaders said about Genesis 18–23?”.

1) “Is any thing too hard for the Lord?” — when your case feels impossible

In Genesis 18, Sarah laughs at the idea of pregnancy in old age. It’s not a cartoonish laugh; it’s the laughter of someone whose lived experience tells her that the promise is implausible. And then comes the question: “Is any thing too hard for the Lord?”

In the New Testament, the angel says to Mary: “For with God nothing shall be impossible.” (Luke 1:37). In my own faith tradition, the Book of Mormon offers a parallel logic: God provides means to accomplish what He commands (1 Nephi 17:3).

For a litigant in person, “impossible” often means:

• “I can’t afford representation.”
• “I can’t do the paperwork.”
• “I can’t face him/her in court.”
• “No one will believe me.”
• “The system is too slow; my child needs safety now.”

Here is the practical reframe: you may not be able to control the other party, the listing delays, or the court’s resourcing. But you can build a credible, organised, evidence-led case file and present it in a way that the court can act on. That is not “wishful thinking.” That is disciplined stewardship.

If you are applying for a child arrangements order (or related orders under section 8 Children Act 1989), the official application route and forms are here: Form C100 (GOV.UK) and the broader GOV.UK overview here: Making child arrangements if you divorce or separate.

What I want you to take from Genesis 18 is not “pretend it’s fine.” It’s this: God’s question challenges the assumption that your present limitation sets the ceiling for your future. It doesn’t.

2) Abraham’s intercession: what principled advocacy looks like

Abraham doesn’t scream at God about Sodom. He reasons. He appeals to justice. He negotiates down—50, 45, 40, 30, 20, 10—with humility but also firmness. He models something litigants in person desperately need: structured advocacy.

In family court, “structured advocacy” means:

• Clarity: what orders are you seeking and why?
• Relevance: what facts directly support the order you want?
• Proportionality: are you asking for the minimum necessary to protect the child?
• Evidence discipline: can you prove what you’re saying with dated documents, screenshots, logs, reports, or admissions?
• Tone control: your credibility rises when you remain calm and factual.

This is not about being “nice.” It is about being effective.

One of the most important judicial frameworks in domestic abuse-related private law children proceedings is Practice Direction 12J (PD12J). PD12J sets out what the court must do where domestic abuse is alleged or admitted, including ensuring that any child arrangements order protects the safety and wellbeing of the child and the parent and does not expose them to further risk. For a plain-English explainer, this UK Parliament briefing is also useful: House of Commons Library: Child arrangements and domestic abuse.

Abraham’s “intercession” reminds me of something I tell clients constantly: you don’t win by being louder; you win by being clearer.

3) Sodom, corruption, and the psychology of “looking back”

Genesis 19 is uncomfortable reading. It is meant to be. It depicts a society with collapsed moral boundaries and a predatory, violent culture. Lot’s family is told to leave urgently. Lot’s wife looks back and becomes “a pillar of salt.”

In the context of modern family court cases, I often see a parallel dynamic—not because “the court is Sodom,” but because many litigants in person are trying to exit:

• coercive control,
• chronic conflict patterns,
• high-conflict co-parenting dynamics,
• or a wider environment of manipulation, intimidation, and narrative warfare.

The “look back” in real life is often psychological. It can look like:

• re-reading abusive messages for hours and spiralling,
• seeking closure from a person who thrives on withholding it,
• breaking no-contact boundaries “just this once,”
• arguing in circles to force an apology that will never come,
• or clinging to the idea that “if I explain it differently, they’ll finally understand.”

If you are leaving a toxic environment, the first stage is physical safety; the second is emotional detachment. Court proceedings can accidentally keep you emotionally tethered because you must keep engaging. That is why you need a system.

A practical “don’t look back” protocol for LiPs

• Communication boundaries: keep everything in writing and keep it child-focused. No essays. No emotional bait.
• Evidence hygiene: screenshot, date-stamp, store, and then stop re-reading.
• Nervous system protection: limit exposure windows. You don’t need to re-traumatise yourself to “prepare.”
• External support: speak to a grounded friend, therapist, advocate, or support service—someone who brings you back to reality.

If you’re in private law proceedings, Cafcass explains the process and what to expect here: Cafcass: what happens in private law proceedings, and their overview of involvement (including safeguarding letters) is here: Cafcass: overview of our involvement.

4) Delay is not denial: Sarah, Abraham, and the long middle

One of the cruelest features of family court is time. Delay can feel like injustice, especially where there are safeguarding concerns, where children are distressed, or where one party uses process as a weapon.

Abraham and Sarah’s story is, in part, about the long middle: the space between promise and fulfilment. If you are a litigant in person, you may be living in a long middle right now:

• between separation and stability,
• between disclosure and findings,
• between the first hearing and a final hearing,
• between reporting harm and seeing meaningful safeguards.

Here is the hard truth: waiting will not become easier just because you “accept” it. Waiting becomes survivable when you build structure. A faith-based approach is not passive; it is disciplined.

A “wilderness routine” for court users

• One admin block per week: evidence filing, chronology updates, statement drafting, or document requests.
• One wellbeing anchor per day: prayer, scripture, exercise, journaling, a walk—something that brings you back to centre.
• One support touchpoint: someone who reminds you who you are when the other party tries to rewrite you.
• One “next right step” list: court is overwhelming when you treat it as one giant problem. Break it down.

If you are struggling to manage forms and process, two practical support resources worth knowing: Support Through Court (a charity helping people who face civil and family courts alone), and AdviceNow’s step-by-step guides: AdviceNow: child arrangements.

5) “Weak things become strong” — applying Ether 12:27 to court survival

The Book of Mormon verse that has carried many people through impossible seasons is Ether 12:27: weakness is given so that we may be humble, and if we come unto Christ, weak things can become strong.

In practice, for litigants in person, “weakness” may be:

• lack of legal knowledge,
• fear of cross-examination or confrontation,
• trauma symptoms and overwhelm,
• financial insecurity,
• or the feeling of being “outmatched.”

The transformation often comes through very ordinary means:

• learning the court vocabulary,
• building a chronology,
• identifying the key issues,
• preparing a concise position statement,
• and showing up consistently with integrity.

That is how weakness becomes strength: not by magic, but by grace meeting effort.

6) “Provide means” — 1 Nephi 17:3 and the logic of practical faith

1 Nephi 17:3 teaches a pattern I have seen repeatedly in real life: when God commands, He also provides “means” to accomplish it—often discovered after you begin.

For a litigant in person, the “means” may look like:

• a template for a chronology,
• a support service that helps you complete forms,
• clarity from reading the official process guidance,
• finding the right legal framework (e.g., PD12J) to structure safeguarding concerns,
• or simply learning how to present your evidence in a coherent, restrained way.

Sometimes the “means” is financial too. If the application fee is a barrier, look at Help with Fees: Get help with court and tribunal fees and the EX160 guidance: Apply for help with fees (EX160).

Faith, in a court context, is not “hoping it all works out.” Faith is: taking the next right step even while you are scared.

7) Abraham’s “test” (Genesis 22): surrender, not self-destruction

Genesis 22 is one of the most confronting passages in scripture. It depicts Abraham’s willingness to obey God in relation to Isaac, the promised son. I won’t attempt to flatten this into a simplistic moral.

But there is a relevant principle for litigants in person: there is a difference between surrender and self-destruction.

In family court, people often destroy themselves trying to:

• control the other party,
• force vindication from a system that moves slowly,
• or “win” every minor point.

Surrender is not giving up your child or tolerating harm. Surrender is releasing what you cannot control so that you can focus on what you can: your evidence, your conduct, your child’s needs, your boundaries, and your long-term stability.

This is where Moses 1:39 helps as a mission statement: God’s work and glory is “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life” of His children. Translated into court-user language: the purpose is not to “defeat” the other party; it is to protect welfare, build stability, and keep your soul intact.

8) Genesis 23 and the power of paperwork: the first “land deal”

Genesis 23 can look like an anticlimax after the drama of earlier chapters. Sarah dies; Abraham grieves; then he negotiates and purchases the cave of Machpelah as a burial place. But notice the detail: this is formal, witnessed, priced, and legally secured.

That matters.

If you are a litigant in person, you are living in a world where: what is documented is what is real. You can have truth in your heart and still fail if you cannot evidence it. The court does not decide cases on vibes. It decides on evidence, credibility, welfare analysis, and statutory/legal frameworks.

What Genesis 23 teaches the LiP (in plain English)

• Grief and administration can co-exist: you may be in pain and still need to do the forms.
• Do it properly: accuracy, dates, copies, and receipts matter.
• Secure what you can: focus on orders and safeguards that are enforceable and measurable.
• Think long-term: Abraham was anchoring a future, not just reacting to a moment.

For practical process guidance on applications involving children, GOV.UK also provides a booklet-style explainer here: Making an application: children and the family courts.

A Litigant-in-Person “faith + strategy” checklist for the coming week

If you are reading this after a difficult Sunday—tired, anxious, and carrying the weight of a case—here is a practical checklist you can use this week. (Faith is not a substitute for action. Faith fuels action.)

1. Define your core aim in one sentence: “I am seeking arrangements that protect X and meet Y need.” Keep it welfare-focused.
2. Update your chronology: 10–20 lines, dates only, facts only. No commentary.
3. Create an “evidence index”: label documents clearly, keep them in date order, avoid duplication.
4. Read PD12J if domestic abuse is relevant: know the framework the court is meant to apply.
5. Prepare for the first hearing: review Cafcass guidance so you know what to expect.
6. Reduce reactive communication: shorter, calmer messages. Child-focused. No bait-taking.
7. Anchor daily: one spiritual practice, one physical practice, one administrative step.

If you need form-filling and procedural support, consider: Support Through Court: how they help and AdviceNow’s practical guides (start here): AdviceNow: apply for a child arrangements order without a lawyer.

Work with me: 15-minute consultation

If you want a calm, strategic second pair of eyes on your case—especially around evidence structure, court-ready positioning, safeguarding framing, or preparing for hearings—you can book a 15-minute consultation below.

Alternatively, you can book via the contact page: https://jshlaw.co.uk/contact/

Final reflection: hope that doesn’t ignore reality

I am proud to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I don’t say that as a marketing device; I say it because my faith teaches me to treat people as eternal beings, and to take suffering seriously—not sentimentally.

Genesis 18–23 is not a fairy tale. It is a record of real human complexity: delay, fear, rescue, consequence, testing, grief, and legal reality. And the thread through it all is this: God is able to do what you cannot.

For the litigant in person: you may feel like you are walking through a wilderness you didn’t choose. But you can still become disciplined, credible, and strong. You can still tell the truth with restraint. You can still build a case file that the court can understand. You can still protect your child’s welfare and your own integrity.

“Is any thing too hard for the Lord?” does not mean everything will be easy. It means you are not limited to what you can currently see—and you are not alone in the work.