
In a sea of comments, one quietly rose above the rest — not through volume, but through depth. It didn’t argue or analyze. It blessed. And in doing so, it affirmed something I’ve been feeling in my bones:
Speaking the truth in this profession is no longer just brave — it’s spiritual work.
Linda Bour shared a passage that gripped my heart:
“When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say. You will be given at that moment what you are to say. For it will not be you who speak but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.”
She went on to share a moment from her own life — facing a hostile panel of lawyers, unsure of what to say, until something rose up within her. Something unplanned, unexpected, and yet entirely true:
“What you say has no point in law.”
She didn’t know where it came from. But it turned the tide. And now, she prays:
“O Holy Spirit, be the Voice that speaks for me in court.”
That prayer — simple, clear, sacred — hit me like a thunderclap. Because isn’t that exactly what we need in the court reporting profession right now? This line alone speaks volumes — it ties my advocacy to a moral compass and reminds me that speaking truth isn’t about credentials — it’s about courage and conviction.
The Spirit of Silence vs. the Spirit of Truth
We are living in a moment where truth is inconvenient — even dangerous — to those in power. Speaking out about abuse, exclusion, or retaliation doesn’t make you brave in some people’s eyes. It makes you a target.
Instead of asking, “What happened?” or “How can we help?,” some respond with, “Who is this?”
Not to listen. But to label. To block. To dismiss.
But truth doesn’t wait for permission. And neither does the Spirit.
When you speak up — when you challenge abuse or shine light into dark corners — there is something holy about that act. Not religious, necessarily. But sacred in the truest sense: a commitment to something higher than fear.
And the fear is real. The stakes are real. There are people suffering quietly in this profession because of hostile leadership, toxic culture, and gatekeeping disguised as community.
Yet the call is clear: Speak anyway.
Integrity in the Face of Intimidation
Linda’s comment reminded me that courage isn’t something we conjure — it’s something we allow. It’s what happens when we step aside and let our values speak louder than our fears. That is the true meaning of her prayer:
“Be the Voice that speaks for me in court.”
For us, court may not always be a literal courtroom. It may be:
- A board meeting where no one else will speak up.
- A comment thread filled with judgment.
- A leadership circle where silence is rewarded and dissent is punished.
- A profession where you’re told you don’t belong because you don’t comply.
In those spaces, the voice you need isn’t always your own. Sometimes it’s truth itself, pushing through your lips despite the shaking in your hands.
A New Kind of Professionalism
The court reporting profession was built on accuracy, integrity, and discipline. But what good is accuracy without moral clarity? What use is discipline if we use it to exclude others?
Professionalism must evolve. It must include:
- Room for vulnerability.
- Accountability for harm.
- Courage to speak, even when it’s unpopular.
Linda’s words reminded me that what we’re doing isn’t petty. It’s prophetic. It’s not drama. It’s a reckoning. And those who try to silence it — through intimidation, tone-policing, or personal attacks — are only revealing their fear of what truth might change.
To Those Who Are Afraid to Speak
If you’re reading this and you’ve felt the sting of exclusion or the weight of silence pressing on your chest, this is for you:
You don’t have to have the perfect words.
You don’t have to carry credentials.
You don’t even have to speak loudly.
Just speak truth.
Let integrity be the voice that speaks for you — in court, in comments, in community.
And if you ever doubt whether your voice matters, remember this:
The most powerful statement ever uttered in a courtroom wasn’t rehearsed. It was inspired.
“O Holy Spirit, be the Voice that speaks for me in court.”
We need more voices like that — and fewer trying to shut them down.
Disclaimer
The content of this post is intended for informational and discussion purposes only. All opinions expressed herein are those of the author and are based on publicly available information, industry standards, and good-faith concerns about nonprofit governance and professional ethics. No part of this article is intended to defame, accuse, or misrepresent any individual or organization. Readers are encouraged to verify facts independently and to engage constructively in dialogue about leadership, transparency, and accountability in the court reporting profession.
- The content on this blog represents the personal opinions, observations, and commentary of the author. It is intended for editorial and journalistic purposes and is protected under the First Amendment of the United States Constitution.
- Nothing here constitutes legal advice. Readers are encouraged to review the facts and form independent conclusions.
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