Grant Me Justice: A Mother’s Journey from Murder and Mourning to Mercy and Dancing

By Felecia Marshall

On March 14, 2017, everything about Felecia Marshall's life as she knew it changed when her daughter Alexia was murdered. At the time, it seemed like a pit that she would never be able to ascend. But God!

Reflecting on, and growing from, this experience, she penned the book Grant Me Justice and founded Grant Me Justice: A Voice for the Victim, where she has been given the privilege of connecting with women worldwide who have lost their children to violence.

This book is powerfully and compellingly written, as is only possible when one writes from deeply felt and seriously considered experience. A book about the loss of a child to violence could be simply a negative condemnation of that violence and of the people who carried it out. A story of dealing with the court system in a search for justice could be a tale of despair, producing only anger.

There is anger to be felt in these stories - righteous anger. There are moments of deep despair. There are evils encountered and wrongs done.

But God!

This book tells the story of the wrongs. It portrays the evil so you can know it, recognize it, and acknowledge it, but it then goes on to deal with it in light of the gospel, in the light of our God who knows our pain, our anger, even our despair, and walks with us from there to dancing.

There are places in this book that will challenge you to consider your own actions. God is found to be the source of justice, but are you ready to be part of bringing that justice to others?

Felecia Marshall has chosen to build when she could tear down. She has chosen to move to dancing when she could spend her life in mourning. She has chosen to help others find justice, when she could-justifiably-spend her time in criticizing and complaint.

Now she has opened herself up to you through these heartfelt words in the hope of helping you find the same joy.

Will you read this and face the challenge?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Energion Publications
• Release date: Sep 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781631998768

Book preview

9781631998751_fc.jpg

Grant Me Justice

A Mother’s Journey from Murder and Mourning to Mercy and Dancing

Felecia Marshall

Energion Publications

Gonzalez, Florida

2023

Copyright © 2023, Felecia Marshall. All Rights Reserved

I have tried to recreate events, locales, and conversations from my memories. In order to maintain their anonymity, in some instances, I have changed the names of individuals and places, I may have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations, and places of residence.

Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure that the information in this book was correct at press time, the author and publisher do not assume and hereby disclaim any liability to any party for any loss, damage, or disruption caused by errors or omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident, or any other cause.

Unless otherwise marked, Scripture quotations are taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Scripture quotations are from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved."

ISBN: 978-1-63199-875-1

eISBN: 978-1-63199-876-8

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023946031

Energion Publications

1241 Conference Rd

Cantonment, FL 32533

energion.com

[e-mail]

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my daughter, Alexia (Lexi B), whose tragic death forms the central event in this book, and to her beautiful daughter, Alexzandria (Suga), whose light continues to shine on everyone who knows her.

I dedicate this book to Camden and Maylei, who have unselfishly shared their mom and embraced Suga as their little sister since day one.

I want to pay special homage to Miss Sha, who has played an integral role in Lexi B’s and Suga’s story. She made the ultimate sacrifice of taking Suga as her own, embracing her with open arms from the very first day we brought her home, a labor of love that continues today. This story is just as much hers as it is mine.

This book is also dedicated to James and Jerry (Lexi B’s dad and bonus dad, respectively), Jermaine (her brother), and the countless others who played an integral role in Lexi B’s life.

To Paul Rankin and Kateri Gill, I don’t know how I can adequately thank you for everything you’ve done, as you’ve given the most precious gift you could give—your time. This book is dedicated to you for believing in me and Grant Me Justice enough to devote countless hours of your time. I’m forever grateful.

Finally, this book is dedicated to every mother and family member who has lost a loved one to violence. We are part of a large and loving community of survivors who choose to rise above violence in the spirit of truth, justice, and grace.

Table of Contents

Dedication iii

Introduction 1

1 The Call That Changed Everything 7

2 The Aftermath 17

3 The Fabric of Family 31

4 The Hurt You Give 47

5 The Art of Mothering 55

6 The Days of Our Lives 73

7 Lexi B #33  93

8 A Sweet Addition 109

9 The Prodigal 117

10 Lost in the Criminal System 135

11 Working It Out for My Good 153

12 And Justice for All 171

Introduction

In a parable recorded in the eighteenth chapter of Luke’s gospel (vv1-8), Jesus tells of a poor, powerless widow who begged a corrupt judge—a powerful man who neither feared God nor respected people—to grant her justice. Luke does not tell us precisely the type of justice the widow sought; nonetheless, we know she did not receive the outcome she desired the first time. This provoked persistence, appearing before the judge repeatedly until she was satisfied with the results.

Just like that widow going before the judge for the very first time, many assume that the judicial system works with equity and justice for all, only to discover that something like the opposite is true as often as not. Many of us are poor and all of us weak—victims as well as defendants, one just as attached as the other, shackled to this thing called criminal justice, held captive to a broken system that all too often seems to have little interest in securing true justice for anyone involved—a flawed and failing system that values efficiency and expedience over anything that might pass for a rigorous and unflinching quest for truth. 

After appearing before a judge four times as the victim's mother, I concluded that the criminal justice system is a glaring misnomer. A better, more precise label might be the criminal legal system since anything resembling true justice seems far removed from the heart of the process.

Just like the widow, the victim, and the defendant must complete the judicial process, acting on faith that the judge will, at the very least, attend to our pleas for justice. From the victim’s perspective, that faith stems from the hope that all victims will receive fairness, dignity, and respect and from the promise that we will be informed and heard. A similar set of hopes drives the defendant’s faith, combined with the overarching expectation of being presumed innocent until proven guilty.

I wrote Grant Me Justice: A Mother’s Journey from Murder and Mourning to Mercy and Dancing the only way I could have, from my perspective as a grieving mother seeking to heal or remedy the mental and spiritual wounds resulting from my daughter’s horrific murder. I wrote in hopes that this terrible wrong would be put right. In that sense, this book is a prayer or plea that God would grant justice to me, my daughter, and even the accused—justice to all those caught up in our broken, dysfunctional system. It’s also a journal of my disappointment with a system I believed in implicitly when I was still blissfully ignorant of what it was like for those tangled in its bureaucratic web. 

Most would think that our judicial system would come close to the truth since judges are at least present, though their role is to preside. For me, it felt more arbitrary than arbitrating, as they mainly served to rubber stamp backroom deals negotiated in the form of plea bargains which deny the victim the right to pursue justice and the defendant the right to a speedy and public trial by an impartial jury of their peers. 

Just as the parable narrates the widow’s plight, Grant Me Justice: A Mother’s Journey from Murder and Mourning to Mercy and Dancing chronicles my approach to the unjust judge, including my observations along the way and the realization that those who oversaw and administered the system could never grant the absolute Justice I so desperately longed for, because they were and are, in need of Justice, too. 

After my daughter’s murder, I needed to write her story as a testament to her life and help me somehow process and overcome the tragic, unexpected loss. The process has felt closer to self-inflicted torture than therapy. I continued, nevertheless, navigating through the various levels of my pain and reflecting on my experiences with my daughter, her murder, and the criminal justice system in Mississippi. 

I wrote to let the world know Lexi B’s story—her beautiful, complex, tragic story. I found that with each tap on the keyboard, a new layer of her story was discovered, and because of her story, I’ve been changed—my life has been forever changed. 

Completing and publishing a book about the entire process and all I had learned was never part of my initial plan. I didn’t think I had the patience or wherewithal to undertake—much less complete such a task. I certainly never imagined that my journey would culminate in reaching out to and helping others who had experienced similar loss or sympathizing in some ways with the defendant’s family—but it did, and here we are. 

What changed for me? Everything. A senseless act of violence took my daughter from me and everyone else who loved her. This has felt overwhelming at times, undeniably so. But at the same time, through losing my child, I’ve witnessed God’s hand in my life in ways that have been much more rewarding than I ever imagined. 

You see, God has taken this tragedy and used the experience of a devastating loss to make me more conscious of the many injustices of the so-called criminal justice system. He has also used this experience to mature me and strengthen my walk with Him exponentially, being moved from being unable to communicate with Him at all to comprehending the true meaning of justice and mercy, moving me to do all I can to confront the many injustices inherent in a broken system. 

When I first conceived the idea of telling this story, I imagined the telling would center exclusively on my journey and how I navigated the criminal justice system as a surviving family member, including my wrestling with the raw emotions triggered by the loss of a child and an overview of victims’ rights as established by state and federal law. It would be a vehicle to give voices to mothers experiencing similar obstacles. And it would include my most profound, darkest, most authentic thought processes throughout the ordeal. 

Throughout the lived experience, however, I repeatedly confronted the undeniable fact that each time I entered the courtroom doors, I wondered how it must have felt for the mother on the opposite side of the table. So, while my personal experience of tragedy and its aftermath still form the main thread, I felt a tugging towards the defendant’s family and how that tugging changed my perspective in not-so-subtle ways. 

While I went to the courtroom to represent my daughter’s rights as a victim, I couldn’t stop asking the related question: what was it like for a mother to watch her son or daughter being tried for murder? And that troubling question naturally found its way into the narrative. 

I began aching for everyone, regardless of what ‘side’ they were on because it became painfully evident that we were all swept up in the same process due to one senseless act—Murder. This awareness has led me to see, through God’s strength, a greater purpose. Ultimately, the book you are holding is not only about justice but ultimately about redemption, forgiveness, and hope. 

Amidst an unimaginable tragedy, God allowed every aspect of this situation to touch my heart, forcing me to grasp with certainty how much compassion He had for me and everyone involved in the process, including the defendants and their families. Yes, them too. 

The experience of losing my child to murder allowed me to behold grace in ways I couldn’t have otherwise imagined. Through the agonizing process, I’ve realized that God’s love isn’t solely reserved for me and others who experience loss. His love has reach and depth and extends to everyone, even those responsible for my child’s murder. 

Comprehending the depths of God’s love and the full requirement as a believer to love this way was difficult to swallow, much less digest. It took some time and a long, excruciating trip down the road for justice for me to fully comprehend the kind of love that encompasses the essence of who God is. In many ways, this feels like the journey of a lifetime—to come to grips with this great love I had often talked about. I can see now—with scales removed, enabling me to witness the awe of grace firsthand. 

I am not saying that I do not desire fairness and accountability by the laws of man. Because I do, and God does too. However, through the judicial process, I came out with a completely different perspective than when I began. I’ve been led to a more significant form of justice. Justice that can only be found at the cross. 

If you were to poll all those who have been sucked into the criminal justice world, each experience would be different. For me, that included three formal plea hearings, a couple of postponements and continuances, and a few backroom discussions. I felt powerless and voiceless throughout the same judicial process that promised and justice for all.

I grappled with putting the pieces of my life back together after losing my daughter while simultaneously being tasked with facing the defendants and their families in open court, looking into their eyes as they traversed their own agonizing journeys. 

As a result of all the hills and valleys of my criminal justice road experience, I realized I was obligated to tell Lexi B’s story—our story, and detail precisely what HER death and God’s love taught me. While fair and equitable justice is difficult, if not impossible, to find in this world, at least how the legal system is currently set up, God taught me far more than I could have ever envisioned. 

So, what did I learn? I learned that only God can bring us true justice and that justice is a heart matter, a matter of the soul. This was not an easy verdict for me—as I sought a horrific right to be wronged, for the defendants to be locked up and thrown away, but left with a life-altering lesson on grace and love. The person who walked into the first preliminary hearing was not the person who came out three years later. I have been eternally changed. 

During this process, I learned a lot about myself. I learned about the criminal justice system, and, most importantly, I learned and discovered this thing called agape love—the immeasurable, unconditional, forgiving love of God. 

While I miss my child, I walk in the power of the grace of God through Jesus Christ. Leaning on that power, I believe I shall see and be with her again. Until that day, I have committed to using the time I have left on this earth to complete my purpose, beginning today. This is Grant Me Justice: A Mother’s Journey from Murder and Mourning to Mercy and Dancing. 

The Call

That Changed Everything

The call came on Tuesday, March 14, 2017, shortly after 11 a.m.

I was sitting at my desk at a church in Jackson, Mississippi, where I work as a business administrator. This was one of my busiest days, as I had to prepare for payroll. I was having quite a productive day until the phone rang, and I received the news that would change my life forever. 

It was cool, maybe 40 degrees at most, with a cloudy sky and a light breeze. I arrived at work half an hour early as I’m afforded the privilege and responsibility of being the morning chauffeur, ensuring the little ones make it to school on time and in one piece. I confess I’m not the world’s greatest driver, so I tend to allot the extra thirty minutes whenever possible to take it slow and account for any obstacle or interference we might encounter along the way. 

Everything had gone according to plan for once, with no accidents or roadwork to slow us down. Having dropped off the kiddos, I proceeded to the office and got to work, determined to make the best use of the uninterrupted quiet before the others began to arrive with their bustle of greetings, updates, questions, and requests. I had started on my second cup of coffee by the time our Administrative Assistant, Keisha, trickled in, followed by the pastoral staff. Although they disrupt my calm workflow, I enjoy our time together, laughing and chopping it up. They soon moved on to their respective offices, at which point I returned to my desk and the pile of Things to Do for the day. 

It was my sister-in-law Mia on the other end of the phone. I didn’t acknowledge it then, but the call felt different. It wasn’t so much what she said as how. A certain tightness in her voice, as if she was struggling to say what she’d called to say. Also, she’d obviously been crying. 

Lexi B’s been shot, she said. I don’t know how bad it is, but she has been shot. 

The little hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood at attention. My heart was racing at full speed as I looked around the office, examining the walls as if the answer to a thousand questions I didn’t know enough to ask might appear. What should I do next? What could I do? 

I started to say something, but it was hard to say it correctly as I was still trying to comprehend what I had been told. All the while, I frantically looked through my phone, scrolling the internet to find answers. That simple action proved daunting, as I could not get my fingers to cooperate with the signals from my brain. 

All the while, a million thoughts began to course through my head. Was she okay? Was she still with us? What happened? Who did this to her? And why? 

The latter two questions prompted a deep, foreboding feeling. In recent months her relationship with Evelyn had taken another downward turn, and Lexi B had decided to move on. At least, that’s what she thought. There were countless times that she’d tried to distance herself from her before, each time leading her right back to Evelyn’s entangled web of chaos. 

Only days before, Lexi B posted photos of her new friend to Facebook to celebrate her thought to be freedom. A young woman I only ever knew as Violet. I’m not sure exactly when this new friendship began, but Lexi B called me on Saturday wanting to bring her by the house to meet Suga, her daughter who’d been staying with us for upwards of a year by then. 

I recall seeing the posts and the eerie feeling that followed. Too soon, I thought, too soon. Looking back, you might call that