Most people who call me about childhood sexual abuse open with an apology. They apologize for how long it took them to say anything. They give me the year it happened, then go quiet and wait for me to tell them they are too late.
I rarely do.
Arkansas changed its law on filing deadlines for child sexual abuse claims, and most survivors have never heard about it. The change was broad enough that whatever you believe about your own case is probably out of date. If you were abused inside an Assemblies of God church, a youth group, a church camp, or any other ministry setting, whether you can still file is not answered by counting years on a calendar. I handle abuse cases involving Arkansas religious institutions, and the most common reason a survivor never picks up the phone is a deadline they assumed applied to them and never checked.
Here is what the law actually says.
The Justice for Vulnerable Victims of Sexual Abuse Act took effect on July 28, 2021. For child sexual abuse claims, it did something that state legislatures almost never do. It eliminated the statute of limitations outright.
There is no filing deadline for survivors who were under 21 years old on July 28, 2021. In plain terms, that means anyone born on or after July 28, 2000. If you fall in that group, no clock is running against you. Not a three year clock, not a ten year clock, not any clock. You could come to me next month or in fifteen years and the deadline analysis would come out the same, because there is no deadline.
Read that again if you need to, because survivors regularly do not believe it the first time.
I want to be precise about what this covers, since precision is the difference between a case and a missed opportunity. The date that matters is your age on July 28, 2021, not your age when the abuse happened and not your age now. A survivor who turned 20 in the summer of 2021 is inside the rule. A survivor who was abused in 2015 and is now in their mid twenties is inside the rule. If you are unsure where your birthday puts you, that is a five minute conversation, and it is worth having before you decide anything about your own case.
Abuse inside a church rarely surfaces on any predictable schedule. A teenager who was groomed by a youth pastor may finish high school, leave the congregation, move away, marry, and only years later understand the shape of what happened. The no deadline rule was written with exactly that pattern in mind.
For Assemblies of God survivors in this group, the practical effect is that time pressure does not decide anything. You do not have to be ready today. You do not have to have told your family. You do not have to have decided whether you want to sue anyone at all. What you have is room, and room is rare in this area of law.
That said, I still tell every one of these survivors and every parent who calls me about a child to move sooner rather than later. Not because of a deadline, but because of evidence, which I will come back to.
If you were older than 21 on July 28, 2021, the no deadline rule does not reach you. That is not the end of the analysis, and I want to be clear that it is not the end of the analysis, because too many survivors stop reading at that sentence and conclude the door is shut.
Arkansas recognizes delayed discovery. A survivor has three years from discovering the psychological effects of the abuse to file. The clock is tied to that discovery, not to the date of the abuse itself.
Think about what that actually means. A man abused at fourteen who spent three decades believing the panic attacks, the failed relationships, and the drinking were personal failures may connect those effects to the abuse in a therapist’s office at forty-eight. The law does not treat those thirty-four silent years as time he wasted. It treats the moment of connection as the moment that matters.
This is why I will not tell anyone over the phone that they are out of time based on a birth year alone. The question is not how long ago it happened. The question is when you understood what it did to you, and that is a factual question with a real answer in your own history. Survivors researching legal rights for Assemblies of God survivors in Arkansas often find that their assumed deadline and their actual deadline are years apart.
Delayed discovery is not a technicality that lawyers invented to get around deadlines. It describes something that happens to real people, and it happens with unusual force in religious settings.
When abuse comes from a person who stands at the front of a sanctuary, the survivor is handed a vocabulary for it before they can build their own. It gets called a mistake. It gets called a season of temptation. It gets called something both parties need to forgive and move past. A child who is told that what happened was a spiritual failing on the part of a leader, or worse, a shared sin, does not file that memory under abuse. They file it under shame, and shame does not come with a legal category attached.
Add the surrounding structure. The abuser may have been the person who prayed over you at your baptism. The people you would tell are the people who trained you to trust him. The congregation is often the survivor’s entire social existence, and naming what happened means detonating it.
So the recognition arrives late. It arrives after a therapist asks a question no one asked before. It arrives when a survivor’s own child reaches the age they were. It arrives in a news story about another church. When it arrives, the survivor usually assumes the law has long since given up on them. That assumption is what I spend most of my time correcting.
A civil case is not limited to the person who committed the abuse. In many cases the individual is the least important defendant, because the individual rarely has the assets or the insurance to make a survivor whole, and because the individual is rarely the only party whose conduct enabled what happened.
Institutions can be held responsible for negligent hiring, negligent supervision, negligent retention, failure to report suspected abuse, failure to warn, and concealment that leads to further abuse. Lawsuits filed in Arkansas commonly allege, according to the complaints in those matters, that leadership knew of prior complaints and moved an accused person to another position or another congregation rather than reporting. Where court records support that pattern, it can establish institutional negligence independent of the abuser’s own conduct.
The reach extends past the local congregation. The General Council of the Assemblies of God and its regional District Councils exercise supervisory control over local churches. That structure matters when a survivor asks who can be brought into a case, and it is the reason naming a denomination as defendant is a serious question in Arkansas church abuse litigation rather than a long shot.
Clergy in Arkansas are mandated reporters. When a failure to report contributes to continued harm, that failure can support a negligence claim on its own.
Every survivor who calls me arrives with a theory about their own deadline. Most of those theories were assembled from a search result, a comment from a friend, or something a church employee said years ago with confidence and no legal training behind it.
I cannot tell you from a blog post whether your claim is timely, and any attorney who tells you otherwise before hearing your history is guessing. Your date of birth, the year the abuse occurred, when you first connected your symptoms to it, who else reported, what records exist, and which entities were involved all feed into that answer.
What I can tell you is this. Your claim could still be timely, no matter how long ago the abuse occurred. Speak with an attorney to find out. That sentence is not a marketing line. It is the accurate legal position in Arkansas right now, and acting on it costs you one phone call.
Since there is no deadline pressure for the largest group of survivors, people ask me why urgency matters at all. Evidence is why.
Personnel files get purged. Churches reorganize and records move or vanish. Witnesses who saw a leader alone with children retire, relocate, or die. Once I am retained, one of the first things I do is issue a notice of preservation, which puts an institution on formal notice that it must not destroy relevant records. Destruction after that notice can carry its own consequences in court, including an adverse inference against the institution.
Survivors also ask whether they need physical evidence or a police report. You do not. Sworn testimony can support a claim. Cases decades old get proven through testimony, corroborating witnesses, documents, and patterns of conduct involving the same person or the same institution.
Privacy is the other question I hear constantly. Courts routinely enter protective orders to shield a survivor’s identity, and filings involving minors are commonly handled with initials or under seal.
I have spent my career representing survivors of childhood sexual abuse in Arkansas, and I was the first to obtain a significant monetary settlement from the Catholic Church in Arkansas. That work has taught me that the survivors most likely to have a viable claim are frequently the ones most convinced they do not.
If you were born on or after July 28, 2000, no filing deadline stands between you and a claim. If you are older than that, delayed discovery may put your claim well within reach. Either way, the only way to know is to have someone look at your facts.
The consultation is confidential and it costs nothing. If you are still deciding whether what happened to you counts, you are in familiar company with survivors who recognized the abuse years later, and that recognition arriving late does not weaken your case. Call when you are ready. I will tell you honestly where you stand.