What do you do when you try to do the right thing—and everything gets harder?
That is exactly what happens in Exodus 1–6. Moses obeys God, speaks truth, and steps forward in faith… and the result is not relief, but increased pressure and resistance. For litigants in person navigating family court, that experience will feel familiar. This week’s reflection explores what it means to keep going when progress is slow, outcomes are uncertain, and it feels like nothing is working—while holding on to the truth that God has not forgotten you.
“I Have Remembered My Covenant” — What Exodus 1–6 Teaches Litigants in Person About Delay, Deliverance and Not Losing Faith in the Process
Sunday Reflection | JSH Law
Every Sunday after church I reflect on the scriptures through the lens of the work I do supporting litigants in person navigating the family court. This week’s lesson, “I Have Remembered My Covenant” (Exodus 1–6), is particularly powerful for anyone experiencing prolonged difficulty, delay, or what feels like unanswered pleas for help.
The Israelites were not just struggling—they were enslaved, oppressed, and living under sustained hardship. And perhaps the most difficult part of their experience was not simply the suffering itself, but the question that suffering raises: Has God forgotten us?
If you are in the middle of family court proceedings, especially as a litigant in person, you may recognise that question. When things drag on, when outcomes are unclear, when the system feels slow or unresponsive, it is natural to wonder whether anyone sees what you are going through—let alone God.
This passage answers that question clearly: God does not forget. But He does not always act on our timeline.
Key Takeaways for Litigants in Person
Delay is not the same as neglect. The Israelites suffered for years before deliverance came.
God sees what others do not. Even when systems feel slow or unfair, you are not unseen.
Feeling inadequate does not disqualify you. Moses felt completely unprepared—but was still chosen.
Doing the right thing may initially make things harder. Moses obeyed—and Pharaoh increased the burden.
Progress is not always immediate or visible. Early steps in a case or situation may feel like setbacks.
Faith and structure must work together. You still need to prepare, organise and act.
When life gets harder after you try to do the right thing
One of the most confronting parts of Exodus 5 is that Moses does exactly what God asks—and things get worse.
Pharaoh does not respond with reason or mercy. Instead, he increases the Israelites’ workload and suffering. The people turn on Moses. They blame him. Moses then turns to God and essentially asks:
“Why is this happening? Why did you send me?”
This moment is deeply relatable.
Many litigants in person experience something similar. You take a step forward—issue an application, raise concerns, speak truth, try to follow the correct process—and instead of things improving, they become more complicated.
You may face:
more resistance from the other party,
delays in listing or decision-making,
additional allegations or escalation,
emotional exhaustion from the process itself.
It can feel as though doing the right thing has made everything harder.
Exodus shows us that this experience is not unusual. It is part of the process.
God has not forgotten you—even when it feels like it
The turning point comes in Exodus 6, where God speaks clearly:
“I have remembered my covenant.”
This statement matters because it addresses the core fear people carry during prolonged difficulty: that they have been overlooked, abandoned, or forgotten.
In legal proceedings, especially family court, this fear can become intense. You may feel like:
your situation is not being fully understood,
your evidence is not being seen quickly enough,
the process is too slow for the urgency of your circumstances.
And yet the principle remains: being unseen by the system is not the same as being unseen by God.
This distinction can stabilise you. Because if your sense of worth and hope depends entirely on how quickly a system responds, you will be emotionally destabilised again and again.
But if you are anchored in something deeper, you can continue functioning—even while waiting.
Moses: called while feeling completely inadequate
Another key theme in Exodus 3–4 is Moses’s response to being called.
He does not step forward confidently. He hesitates. He questions. He resists. He expresses doubt:
“Who am I?”
“What if they don’t believe me?”
“I am not eloquent.”
This is important because many litigants in person feel exactly the same way.
You may feel:
unqualified to represent yourself,
uncertain about legal language and procedure,
intimidated by the court environment,
overwhelmed by what is expected of you.
Moses’s story shows that feeling inadequate does not mean you are incapable. It means you are being stretched.
God does not remove Moses’s responsibility. He equips him for it.
That is the pattern.
Faith does not replace preparation
One of the biggest misconceptions is that faith means waiting passively for things to improve.
Exodus does not support that idea.
Moses is required to:
go to Pharaoh,
speak clearly,
return repeatedly despite resistance,
continue even when outcomes are not immediate.
For litigants in person, this translates directly into practical action.
Faith does not replace:
preparing your evidence,
understanding the process,
organising your documents,
presenting your case clearly.
It supports it.
If you are navigating child arrangements proceedings, the official guidance on applying for orders can be found here:
Understanding the process reduces fear. Preparation reduces chaos.
God works through ordinary people
Another powerful aspect of this lesson is the role of seemingly ordinary individuals—particularly the women in Exodus 1–2 who protect and preserve life.
They are not central figures in a legal or political sense. But they are essential to the outcome.
This matters because many litigants in person underestimate their own role.
You do not need to be legally trained to:
tell the truth clearly,
document events accurately,
protect your child’s welfare,
maintain your integrity.
Small, consistent actions matter.
In many cases, they matter more than dramatic gestures.
When progress feels invisible
One of the hardest aspects of both spiritual life and legal process is that progress is often invisible in the early stages.
Moses does not see immediate change.
The Israelites do not feel immediate relief.
In fact, things initially deteriorate.
This can happen in family court too. Early hearings may not resolve everything. Interim arrangements may feel imperfect. The full picture may take time to emerge.
That does not mean nothing is happening.
It means you are in the early stages of a longer process.
A practical reset for litigants in person
If you are currently in proceedings, here is a grounded way to apply this week’s lesson:
Accept that delay may be part of the process.
Focus on what you can control.
Prepare consistently, not reactively.
Expect resistance—and plan for it.
Do not interpret difficulty as failure.
Stay anchored in purpose, not emotion.
You do not need to solve everything today.
You need to take the next structured step.
15-minute consultation
If you are a litigant in person and need help understanding your case, preparing for hearing, or bringing structure and clarity to your situation, you can book a 15-minute consultation below.
Final reflection
I am proud to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and one of the reasons I value these weekly reflections is that scripture does not avoid difficult realities.
Exodus begins not with triumph, but with oppression, confusion and unanswered questions.
And yet the central truth remains:
God has not forgotten His people.
If you are in a difficult season—whether in family court or elsewhere—that truth still applies.
You may not yet see how things will unfold.
You may not yet see resolution.
But you are not unseen. You are not abandoned. And this is not the end of the story.
https://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/ChatGPT-Image-Feb-3-2026-03_26_42-AM.png10241536jessica susan hillhttps://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/jsh-law-logo-new-black-300x67.pngjessica susan hill2026-03-29 15:42:162026-03-29 15:42:19When Things Get Harder First: Faith and Family Court Lessons from Exodus 1–6
Joseph had every reason to seek revenge. Instead, he chose forgiveness — and saw that even his suffering had purpose.
This week’s reflection looks at what Genesis 42–50 teaches litigants in person about family conflict, healing and finding meaning in difficult seasons.
If you’re navigating family court, this one is for you.
“God Meant It unto Good” — What Genesis 42–50 Teaches Litigants in Person About Forgiveness, Family Fracture and Finding Meaning in Trial
Sunday Reflection | JSH Law
Every Sunday after church I like to reflect on the scriptures and think about how the lesson connects with the work I do supporting litigants in person navigating the family court. This week I am catching up on a lesson I missed blogging about at the time: March 16–22, “God Meant It unto Good”, covering Genesis 42–50. It is one of the most searching and moving parts of the Joseph story, because it brings us to the point where suffering, betrayal, family fracture, reconciliation and divine purpose all meet.
Joseph has every reason, on a purely human level, to harden his heart. His brothers sold him into slavery. He suffered false accusation, imprisonment and years of separation from his father and family. When he finally sees his brothers again, he is in a position of extraordinary power. He could expose them, punish them, humiliate them or cut them off. Instead, Joseph does something far more difficult: he forgives. More than that, he sees that God has been at work even in the suffering. He tells them, “God meant it unto good”.
That is not a shallow slogan. It is not a denial of harm. It is not a minimising of wrongdoing. It is a hard-won spiritual perspective formed after years of trial. For litigants in person in family court, that matters. Many people going through proceedings are living in the aftermath of betrayal, deception, coercion, abandonment, estrangement or prolonged conflict. Joseph’s story does not tell us that these things do not wound. It tells us that they do not have to be the end of the story.
Key Takeaways for Litigants in Person
Forgiveness is not the same thing as pretending harm never happened. Joseph remembered clearly what his brothers had done, but he refused to let revenge govern his response.
Family rupture does not always mean the story is over. Some relationships can be healed, some can only be managed safely, but despair is not the only future.
You do not need to understand every trial while you are inside it. Sometimes meaning only becomes clearer in retrospect.
God can bring purpose out of suffering without being the author of wrongdoing. That distinction matters deeply in family court and in real life.
Litigants in person need both tenderness and discipline. Emotional healing and practical preparation have to sit side by side.
Reconciliation without wisdom is dangerous. Where abuse, coercive control or significant harm are involved, forgiveness does not remove the need for boundaries, safeguards or proper court orders.
Why this lesson matters so much in family court work
One of the most difficult things for litigants in person is that family court rarely deals with neat, one-dimensional problems. It deals with relationships. It deals with love, fear, history, loyalty, disappointment, harm, memory, children, identity and power. And because of that, it often reaches into the deepest emotional and spiritual parts of a person’s life.
When I work with litigants in person, I regularly see people struggling not just with process but with meaning. They are asking questions that are much bigger than forms and hearings:
Why has this happened to my family?
How do I keep going when this feels so unfair?
How do I protect my child without becoming consumed by anger?
What does forgiveness even mean when real harm has been done?
Can anything good come out of a season like this?
Genesis 42–50 does not answer those questions cheaply. But it does give us one of scripture’s most profound case studies in what it looks like to move from injury to insight, and from pain to purpose.
Joseph’s brothers return: the past comes back into the room
By the time we reach Genesis 42, Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt because there is famine in the land. They do not initially recognise Joseph, but Joseph recognises them. That moment is psychologically and spiritually loaded. The people who contributed directly to his suffering are suddenly standing in front of him, vulnerable and in need.
Many litigants in person know something of that feeling. The past comes back into the room. Sometimes it appears in the form of a hearing. Sometimes in a statement full of revisionist history. Sometimes in seeing an ex-partner or estranged relative again after a painful period of silence. Sometimes in being forced by proceedings to revisit a chapter of life you would rather not relive.
Joseph does not instantly move to reunion. He tests, observes and discerns. This matters. Forgiveness in scripture is not always impulsive. It is not blindness. It is not naïveté. Joseph wants to see whether his brothers have changed. He wants truth brought into the light.
That is a useful principle for court users. In cases involving ordinary family fracture, there may be room for rebuilding. In cases involving coercive control, domestic abuse, manipulation or safeguarding concerns, testing reality matters. The court process exists in part because feelings and assertions are not enough; facts, patterns and risk all matter.
Forgiveness is not the same as denial
The church lesson rightly emphasises forgiveness, especially in Genesis 45 and Genesis 50:15–21. Joseph’s words are famous because they are so startling: the brother who was betrayed is the one who ends up speaking comfort to the betrayers.
But forgiveness here is not sentimental. Joseph does not say that what happened was acceptable. He does not say that betrayal did not matter. He does not erase truth in order to create a superficial peace.
That distinction is vital for litigants in person, particularly where domestic abuse or family harm is part of the picture. In the family court of England and Wales, where a child arrangements order is in issue and domestic abuse is alleged or admitted, Practice Direction 12J sets out what the court must consider, including safety, welfare and the risk of harm. Forgiveness does not displace safeguarding. Grace does not cancel proper risk assessment. :contentReference[oaicite:1]{index=1}
There is a damaging tendency in some circles to push people toward premature reconciliation in the name of peace. Scripture does not require that kind of foolishness. Joseph’s forgiveness is rooted in truth, wisdom and discernment. It emerges after time, testing and the clear exposure of what has happened. That is a healthier model.
What forgiveness can do to a family system
One of the most striking things about Genesis 45 and 50 is that Joseph’s forgiveness does not only affect Joseph. It changes the emotional climate of the entire family. Fear begins to loosen. Shame is met with mercy. Provision replaces scarcity. The possibility of a future opens up where revenge could have closed it down.
That does not mean every family can or should be restored to what it once was. Some relationships need distance, supervision, structure or legal boundaries. Some cannot safely be repaired in the ordinary sense at all. But it does mean that one person’s refusal to retaliate can alter the trajectory of a family system.
For a litigant in person, this may not mean warm reconciliation with the other party. More often it means something quieter and more disciplined:
refusing to escalate every provocation,
staying child-focused,
communicating with restraint,
letting facts speak,
and refusing to build your identity around grievance.
That is not weakness. It is mature strength.
“God meant it unto good” — what this does and does not mean
Genesis 50:20 is one of the most quoted verses in Joseph’s life, and one of the easiest to misuse. Joseph tells his brothers: “Ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good.”
Notice the structure carefully. The evil was real. Their intent was real. Joseph does not spiritualise it away. But he also sees that God was not defeated by their evil. God brought good through and beyond it.
That is a crucial distinction, especially when speaking to people who have been harmed. It would be pastorally and morally wrong to tell someone that abuse, coercion or cruelty was somehow good in itself. It was not. Wrongdoing remains wrongdoing. But God’s sovereignty means He can still bring healing, wisdom, protection, maturity and even future service out of what others intended for harm.
In legal life, this often looks like a person becoming far more discerning, grounded and courageous than they were before. It may look like learning how to advocate properly for a child. It may look like developing the confidence to set boundaries. It may look like discovering that your life is not over because one relationship or one litigation chapter broke apart.
Meaning in suffering is rarely visible in real time. Joseph could not have said “God meant it unto good” from the bottom of the pit with full comprehension. Much of the meaning came into focus only afterwards.
For litigants in person: you do not need to understand everything today
That point matters because family court is a place where people often become desperate to make immediate sense of everything. They want to know why the other party is behaving this way, why the process is so slow, why the court did not immediately see what seems obvious, why delay is happening, why their child is affected, why the truth is not landing quickly enough.
Those questions are understandable. But the demand for total immediate meaning can become its own burden. Joseph’s story offers another possibility: faithfulness before full understanding.
That does not mean passivity. It means doing the next right thing without waiting for the whole story to make sense.
For some litigants in person, the next right thing is practical:
understanding the child arrangements process on GOV.UK,
preparing properly for Cafcass involvement,
or getting support to organise evidence and chronology. :contentReference[oaicite:2]{index=2}
For others, the next right thing is internal:
putting down revenge fantasies,
limiting reactive communication,
stopping the endless re-reading of inflammatory messages,
or admitting that grief, not rage, is the deeper wound.
Joseph and Christ: rescue, provision and reconciliation
The official lesson also points us to the typology between Joseph and Jesus Christ. Joseph is beloved by his father, betrayed for money, rejected by his own, and later becomes the means of preservation and rescue. Christ, in the greater and truer sense, bears suffering brought about by others’ sin and then offers life, forgiveness and reconciliation.
That matters because Joseph is not just a moral example. He is also a signpost. He points beyond himself to the Saviour, who is the true source of healing for both the one who needs forgiveness and the one who must extend it.
For a litigant in person, this can be the difference between trying to perform spiritual heroics alone and actually drawing on grace. Many people know what they “should” do but have no emotional power left to do it. They may know they should not retaliate, but they are exhausted. They may know they should not let bitterness consume them, but they are deeply wounded. The answer is not self-generated moral perfection. It is receiving help from Christ in the middle of the struggle.
Jacob’s blessings, identity and the future
In Genesis 49, Jacob blesses his sons. The church lesson draws attention to the prophetic nature of these blessings, especially regarding Judah and Joseph. Whatever one makes of every detail, the broader point is clear: God is still speaking future, identity and covenant over a family that has been through astonishing dysfunction.
That is encouraging for anyone whose family story feels broken. It means fracture is not the only lens through which God sees a family. He also sees purpose, calling, inheritance and future.
For litigants in person, that may be a needed reminder. A court case can shrink life down to allegations, statements, text messages, missed handovers and hearing dates. Necessary as those things are, they are not the whole truth about who you are or what your family can yet become.
A practical reflection for LiPs this week
If you are in proceedings right now, here are six practical questions to sit with after reading Genesis 42–50:
Where am I tempted to let bitterness lead my strategy?
What would it look like to tell the truth clearly without being consumed by revenge?
What part of this situation may only make sense later, not now?
What practical preparation do I need to do this week?
Where do I need boundaries rather than fantasy reconciliation?
How might God still bring good out of a chapter I would never have chosen?
If you are at the beginning of a private law children case, it is also worth understanding what Cafcass does and what typically happens after an application is issued. Cafcass explains the private law process, including the first hearing and its role in advising the court about arrangements that best promote the child’s safety and wellbeing. Their guide is here. :contentReference[oaicite:3]{index=3}
15-minute consultation
If you are a litigant in person and need help thinking strategically about your case, organising your evidence, preparing for hearing, or approaching family proceedings with more clarity and calm, you can book a 15-minute consultation below.
Final reflection
I am proud to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and one reason I return to these Sunday reflections is that the scriptures are honest about human life. Genesis 42–50 is not tidy. It is full of grief, famine, guilt, fear, memory, tears and mercy. It understands what families can do to one another. But it also understands that God can still work in the middle of that reality.
For me, Joseph’s witness is not that suffering is pleasant or that every wound is quickly resolved. It is that God is not absent in betrayal, and not defeated by it. He can heal what has been shattered, expose what has been hidden, and bring wisdom and provision out of chapters that once looked only destructive.
If you are going through family court as a litigant in person, perhaps this week’s message is simply this: do not let the harm done to you become the architect of who you are becoming. Tell the truth. Protect what needs protecting. Use the process properly. Stay anchored. And leave room for God to bring good out of a story you would never have written this way yourself.
https://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/ChatGPT-Image-Feb-3-2026-03_26_42-AM.png10241536jessica susan hillhttps://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/jsh-law-logo-new-black-300x67.pngjessica susan hill2026-03-22 15:24:552026-03-29 15:27:46Forgiveness, Family Court and Healing: Lessons from Joseph (Genesis 42–50)
Every Sunday after church I like to take a moment to reflect on the scriptures and think about how the lessons apply to the work I do supporting litigants in person navigating the family court. This week’s lesson, “Let God Prevail” (Genesis 24–33), struck me deeply because it is fundamentally a story about conflict, fear, family fracture, and learning—often painfully—how to seek God’s guidance instead of trying to control everything ourselves. Anyone who has been through family court will recognise these themes immediately. Proceedings can leave people feeling frightened, defensive, exhausted, and tempted to fight every battle at once. But the story of Jacob reminds us that real blessings do not come from seizing control or reacting in panic; they come from humility, preparation, endurance, and allowing God to prevail where our own strength runs out. For litigants in person, that lesson is not abstract theology—it can become a practical way to navigate one of the most difficult seasons of life.
Let God Prevail: What Jacob’s Story Teaches Litigants in Person About Family Court, Fear, Delay and Healing
By Jessica Susan Hill | JSH Law
Each Sunday, after church, I want to write something that is personal, spiritually grounded, and genuinely useful for people facing the family court without legal representation.
I do a great deal of work with litigants in person, and I also spend a great deal of time studying law, family procedure, safeguarding, evidence, and the lived reality of court users.
So this weekly reflection is where those two strands meet: faith and practical court survival.
Today’s lesson at church was “Let God Prevail”, covering Genesis 24–33.
It is a lesson about covenant choices, family conflict, fear, delay, wrestling for blessing, and reconciliation.
In other words, it is surprisingly relevant to family court.
If you are in proceedings right now—especially if you are exhausted, frightened, financially stretched, or trying to protect your child while also keeping yourself together—this article is for you.
Key Takeaways for Litigants in Person
Do not trade your “birthright” for short-term relief. In family court, that means don’t give up your long-term case position, your child’s welfare, or your peace just to end today’s discomfort.
Fear is real, but it does not have to run the strategy. Jacob was afraid, but he still prepared, prayed, planned, and kept moving.
You may need to wrestle spiritually before you can stand legally. Some of the hardest parts of court happen inside you: panic, shame, self-doubt, and grief.
God can still work in family fracture. Genesis 32–33 shows that damaged relationships are not always beyond repair, though healing does not remove the need for wisdom and boundaries.
Covenants, discipline, and structure matter. Litigants in person do better when they build routines, organise evidence, and stay anchored to principle rather than emotion.
Letting God prevail is not passive. It does not mean doing nothing. It means acting with humility, honesty, courage, and restraint while surrendering what you cannot control.
Why this lesson matters to family court users
The official church lesson explains that Jacob began life trying to secure blessing in the wrong way: by supplanting, seizing, and competing.
Later, after years of consequence, fear and family discord, he learned a different lesson.
He learned that God’s highest blessings are not stolen, forced, purchased, or manipulated.
They come as we let God prevail in our lives.
That is a powerful principle for litigants in person.
Family court can tempt people into frantic control.
You may feel pressure to over-explain, over-message, over-react, over-defend, and over-function.
You may feel that if you do not force the process, force the other party, force the narrative, or force the judge to see everything exactly as you do, everything will collapse.
But much of the work I do with litigants in person is helping them move from panic to structure.
From emotional flooding to evidential discipline.
From chaos to clarity.
From “I need to win every moment” to “I need to stay credible, child-focused, and properly prepared.”
That, in its own way, is part of letting God prevail.
Genesis 24: right foundations still matter
The lesson begins with Genesis 24 and the marriage of Isaac and Rebekah.
The emphasis in the church material is covenant marriage and the qualities Rebekah shows: kindness, willingness, generosity, steadiness, and a readiness to act.
For someone in the middle of family court, this can feel painful.
Many people reading this are not living in the beauty of covenant marriage; they are living in the wreckage of its breakdown, or perhaps in the aftermath of a relationship that never resembled covenant at all.
But this chapter still matters, because it reminds us that foundations matter.
Character matters.
Choosing people wisely matters.
Kindness is not weakness.
Reliability is not boring.
Shared values are not optional extras.
In family proceedings, you often see the consequences of unstable foundations:
relationships built on intensity rather than integrity,
promises without consistency,
charm without accountability,
and families trying to function under the pressure of unresolved conflict.
One hard truth is this: family court cannot create a healthy family culture where none exists.
It can make orders.
It can put safeguards in place.
It can determine arrangements.
But it cannot manufacture trust, maturity, or goodwill.
So when I reflect on Genesis 24 from the perspective of the work I do, I think this:
choose character early where you can;
where you could not choose it, and you are now dealing with the consequences, build your case and your life around it now.
Reality first. Then strategy.
Genesis 25: do not sell your birthright for a bowl of pottage
This is one of the clearest lessons for litigants in person.
Esau gives up something lasting for something immediate.
He trades the birthright for relief in the moment.
Court users do this all the time, often without realising it.
A litigant in person may trade their long-term credibility for the short-term satisfaction of sending one explosive message.
They may trade a carefully built safeguarding case for the temporary relief of giving up because the process is too exhausting.
They may agree to unsafe or unworkable arrangements just to make the hearing stop, the pressure stop, the accusations stop, or the legal costs stop.
I understand why.
Proceedings are draining.
Delay is draining.
Repeated conflict is draining.
Being disbelieved is draining.
Telling someone not to “sell the birthright” is easy in theory and very hard in practice when they have not slept, their child is distressed, and they are carrying the case alone.
But the lesson stands.
Short-term relief can be expensive.
In practical terms, for litigants in person, your “birthright” may include:
your child’s long-term welfare and emotional stability,
your own credibility before the court,
clear evidence of coercive or unsafe dynamics,
your peace and self-respect,
and the chance to build a sustainable arrangement rather than a pressured compromise.
Your “pottage” may be:
the temptation to react impulsively,
the urge to accept a bad deal just to get out of the room,
the desire to say “fine, have it your way” because you are overwhelmed,
or the false comfort of disengaging from the evidence because it is too emotionally costly to organise it properly.
The warning here is not moralistic. It is practical.
Protect what matters most.
Not what feels loudest today.
Genesis 28: Bethel, the ladder, and the need for structure
Jacob’s dream at Bethel comes when he is in a vulnerable place: away from home, uncertain, living with consequence, and not yet in peace.
Then comes the dream of the ladder, the house of God, and the realisation that the Lord is in that place.
I think this matters profoundly for litigants in person because so much of family court feels un-sacred.
It feels bureaucratic, adversarial, rushed, under-resourced, and emotionally harsh.
There are forms, bundles, hearing dates, allegations, statements, missed disclosure, and repeated retellings of painful events.
It is easy to feel that God is nowhere near it.
And yet many people meet God in the wilderness, not after it.
Not once the order is perfect.
Not once the co-parenting is healed.
Not once the trauma is fully resolved.
In the middle of it.
For me, Jacob’s ladder also speaks to structure.
Court survival is step by step.
Covenant life is step by step.
Healing is step by step.
You do not leap from chaos to peace in one move.
You climb.
That may look like:
updating your chronology,
sorting your exhibits,
reading the relevant practice direction,
preparing for a Cafcass call calmly rather than fearfully,
building a hearing note,
and keeping one daily spiritual habit even when your life feels upside down.
I often find that litigants in person feel better not when the case is solved, but when the next step is clear.
That is true spiritually too.
God often gives enough light for the next step, not the whole staircase.
Genesis 29–30: the Lord remembers people in affliction
The church lesson draws attention to the language of mercy in relation to Leah and Rachel, and to the idea that the Lord sees affliction and remembers people in trial.
That matters because one of the most painful aspects of family proceedings is feeling unseen.
Litigants in person often tell me some version of the same thing:
“No one is listening.”
“I feel invisible.”
“The system only sees documents, not what this has done to me.”
“I am having to function as if everything is normal when nothing is normal.”
That experience is real.
Courts are not therapy rooms.
Judges are not there to validate every pain point.
Procedure can feel cold.
Even necessary neutrality can feel, to a traumatised person, like indifference.
But being unseen by the system in a complete emotional sense is not the same as being unseen by God.
The distinction matters.
If a person grounds all hope in getting perfect emotional recognition from court, they will usually be crushed.
The court’s job is narrower than that.
This is where faith can stabilise a litigant in person.
Not by denying the inadequacy of systems, but by refusing to let those inadequacies define your worth.
You can be afflicted and still remembered.
Misunderstood and still held.
Delayed and still guided.
That makes it easier to keep going with the practical work.
Because if you know your value does not rise and fall with the other party’s accusations or with the emotional tone of a hearing, you are harder to destabilise.
Genesis 32: Jacob wrestles before he is renamed
This is the heart of the lesson.
Jacob is about to meet Esau.
He is afraid.
He prepares carefully.
He prays.
Then he wrestles.
And in the wrestle comes the blessing and the new name: Israel.
There is so much here for litigants in person.
First: fear is not proof of failure.
Jacob is not fearless.
He is “greatly afraid and distressed.”
Many court users are ashamed of their fear.
They think if they were stronger, more faithful, more intelligent, or more organised, they would not be so overwhelmed.
That is not true.
Fear in a high-stakes family case is normal.
The issue is not whether fear appears.
The issue is whether fear governs.
Second: Jacob does not only pray; he also prepares.
This is a critical point.
Faith is not passivity.
If you have a hearing, prepare.
If you have evidence, organise it.
If there are safeguarding concerns, articulate them properly.
If there is a pattern, map it.
If there are messages, date them.
Prayer is not a replacement for preparation.
It is what keeps preparation from becoming panic.
Third: some blessings are wrestled for.
I do not mean manipulated into existence.
I mean obtained through persistence, humility, repentance, endurance, and refusing to collapse.
Some people want a neat spiritual life and a neat legal process.
That is rarely the reality.
Sometimes you limp into the next stage, but you still come through changed.
I think many litigants in person are in a kind of wrestle.
Not only with the other party or with the process, but with themselves:
with old guilt,
with fear of not being believed,
with confusion about what is loving versus what is enabling,
with the urge to rescue everyone,
with the pain of watching a child suffer,
and with the haunting question of whether this battle is changing them into someone harder than they want to be.
This passage gives me hope because the wrestle is not wasted.
Jacob comes out marked, but blessed.
Genesis 33: the possibility of healing without fantasy
When Esau meets Jacob, the scene is not what Jacob feared.
There is movement toward reconciliation.
There is weeping.
There is mercy.
For family court users, this is important, but it must be handled honestly.
Not every relationship will reconcile.
Not every estranged parent will change.
Not every high-conflict dynamic can be softened by goodwill.
Not every case ends in emotional resolution.
So the lesson is not “everything will be fine if you just pray harder.”
That would be careless and untrue.
The better lesson is this:
the future is not always identical to the fear.
God can work in family fracture.
Hearts can soften.
Some situations do become more peaceful than expected.
Some conversations go better than feared.
Some children are better protected because one parent stayed calm enough, long enough, to build a credible case and not destroy their own position.
Also, reconciliation and boundaries can coexist.
Jacob and Esau’s encounter is warm, but Jacob still proceeds wisely.
In modern terms, that matters.
Forgiveness does not require naivety.
Healing does not require denial.
Civility does not require the erasure of risk.
That is especially important in cases involving coercive control, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, or entrenched manipulation.
“Healing my family” may sometimes mean restored relationship.
At other times it may mean safer boundaries, reduced conflict, parallel parenting, or simply no longer letting dysfunction define the emotional climate of your home.
What “let God prevail” means in real life for a litigant in person
Letting God prevail does not mean becoming passive, vague, or over-spiritual in a courtroom setting.
It does not mean failing to prepare because “God will sort it.”
It does not mean tolerating abuse.
It does not mean agreeing to unsafe arrangements in the name of keeping peace.
In this context, I think it means:
letting truth prevail over image management,
letting principle prevail over impulse,
letting child welfare prevail over ego battles,
letting structure prevail over chaos,
letting humility prevail over self-righteousness,
and letting God carry what you cannot control while you faithfully handle what is yours to do.
In my own work and studies, I keep coming back to the same practical conclusion:
litigants in person need both compassion and rigour.
Not one without the other.
Compassion without structure leaves people overwhelmed.
Structure without compassion leaves people brittle.
Faith, at its best, strengthens both.
A practical weekly reset for LiPs
If you are in family proceedings, here is a simple reset you can use this week:
Name the real issue. What is the actual problem you need the court to understand?
Protect the “birthright.” What matters most long-term, and what short-term temptations are threatening it?
Take the next step on the ladder. Not the whole case. Just the next proper task.
Prepare and pray. Do both.
Stop wrestling with what is not yours to control. Focus on evidence, clarity, deadlines, and your child’s welfare.
Let your communication become calmer. Calm is not weakness; it is often strategic strength.
15-minute consultation
If you are a litigant in person and need help thinking clearly about your case, organising your evidence, preparing for hearing, understanding the family court process, or approaching things more strategically, you can book a 15-minute consultation below.
Final reflection
I am proud to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
My faith does not take me away from the realities of family court; it helps me walk through them with more honesty, more endurance, and more hope.
Genesis 24–33 is not a tidy story.
It is full of flawed people, family strain, fear, wrong motives, sacred encounters, and hard-won change.
That is one reason I trust it.
It understands real life.
If you are a litigant in person reading this today, perhaps the central message is this:
you do not need to seize everything, force everything, or solve everything at once.
You do need to stay faithful in the next right step.
You do need to protect what matters most.
You do need to prepare honestly and calmly.
And you do need to let God prevail where panic is trying to take over.
Sometimes the blessing comes in the outcome.
Sometimes it comes in the change in you.
Sometimes it is both.
https://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/ChatGPT-Image-Feb-3-2026-03_26_42-AM.png10241536jessica susan hillhttps://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/jsh-law-logo-new-black-300x67.pngjessica susan hill2026-03-08 12:05:062026-03-08 13:20:15Sunday Reflection – Let God Prevail: What Jacob’s Story Teaches Litigants in Person About Family Court, Fear, Delay and Healing
“Is Any Thing Too Hard for the Lord?” — A Come, Follow Me Reflection for Litigants in Person in the Family Court
By Jessica Susan Hill, Legal Consultant & McKenzie Friend (JSH Law Ltd)
Every Sunday, after I’ve been to church, I want to write something that’s both personal and practical: a long-form reflection that draws on my
Come, Follow Me lesson in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and turns it into grounded encouragement for
litigants in person navigating the family court. If you are in proceedings right now—especially where there is high conflict,
safeguarding concern, or domestic abuse dynamics—this is for you.
Today’s lesson is Genesis 18–23, titled “Is Any Thing Too Hard for the Lord?”
(official Come, Follow Me lesson page).
It’s a sequence of stories about promise, delay, rescue, consequence, testing, and (interestingly, for a legal mind) the first formal land purchase
recorded for Abraham’s family.
Key takeaways for Litigants in Person (LiPs)
Do not let “delay” trick you into despair. In Genesis, waiting is not absence—it is formation. Court delay can be brutal; build a system to survive it.
Be an advocate like Abraham. Calm, structured, principled advocacy wins credibility. Don’t rant. Don’t spiral. Build your case like a professional.
Get out—and stay out—of “Sodom” dynamics. If you’re leaving coercive control or chronic conflict, don’t look back emotionally. Protect your nervous system and your evidence.
God provides “means” in motion. If you take the next right step, you’ll often find the next tool, the next contact, the next document, the next insight (see 1 Nephi 17:3).
Your weakness is not disqualification. It can become the exact channel for strength (Ether 12:27)—including learning court process, building a bundle, and holding boundaries.
Anchor to purpose. You’re not doing this for drama. You’re doing this for safety, stability, and your child’s welfare. Keep that mission statement (Moses 1:39).
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:
Genesis 18 — Sarah is promised a child; Abraham intercedes for Sodom.
Genesis 20 — Abraham’s fear-driven misstep; God intervenes to protect the covenant promise.
Genesis 21 — Isaac is born; conflict and separation happen; a treaty is made.
Genesis 22 — Abraham is tested with Isaac (the “Akedah”).
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.)
Define your core aim in one sentence: “I am seeking arrangements that protect X and meet Y need.” Keep it welfare-focused.
Update your chronology: 10–20 lines, dates only, facts only. No commentary.
Create an “evidence index”: label documents clearly, keep them in date order, avoid duplication.
Read PD12J if domestic abuse is relevant: know the framework the court is meant to apply.
Prepare for the first hearing: review Cafcass guidance so you know what to expect.
Reduce reactive communication: shorter, calmer messages. Child-focused. No bait-taking.
Anchor daily: one spiritual practice, one physical practice, one administrative step.
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.
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.
https://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/ChatGPT-Image-Feb-3-2026-03_26_42-AM.png10241536jessica susan hillhttps://jshlaw.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/jsh-law-logo-new-black-300x67.pngjessica susan hill2026-03-02 13:08:472026-03-02 13:08:51“Is Any Thing Too Hard for the Lord?” — A Come, Follow Me Reflection for Litigants in Person in the Family Court
