Witness to the truth

I was born on a reservation in Arizona and I'm now in my mid-fifties. I'm pretty much a loner and stick to myself and that's the way I've been for most of my life.

One day while walking home from school when I was in second grade, I noticed a man standing at the side of the road with a burlap bag. As I was passing him, he asked me if I could help him take some trash from the back of his truck down to the basement of the Roman Catholic Church on our reservation. After we got the trash delivered to the back of the church basement, he locked the church doors and then started touching me and doing things to me. Things I did not understand.

I was very scared and began fighting him off. As I did, he grabbed at my clothes and pulled them off.

I managed to pull away and run. I ran upstairs from the basement and was trying to get to the door, but he caught me. By this time, I was completely naked.

The priest chased me around the sanctuary, where he caught me in front of the altar and pulled me over behind the pulpit where he raped me right there on the floor. I wish I could say that this happened just this once, but it happened many times over the next couple years.

I managed to make it home in the dark and told my father what happened, but he didn't believe me. Instead, he hauled off and slugged me viciously in my stomach so hard that I had a hard time catching my breath for 15 or 20 minutes. My dad warned me that if I ever said anything like that about a "holy man," he would hit me twice as hard. So I just remained silent and never told anyone because I was so afraid that either my father or someone else could do me great harm if not kill me for revealing these secrets. As a result, I suffered as this "holy man" continued to abuse me and I suffered through years of indescribably horrible torture and abuse.

During all this time, it was not only this priest who was abusing me but there were other priests who were abusing me as they were doing to many other young boys.

I always resisted and never just went along with the abuse as other victims did. As a result, I was always being "disciplined" but it was more like different forms of torture.

One time a cattle prod was used on me and several times priests would stand over me and urinate on my face.

I was burned over much of my body with hot melted candle wax. One time I had a priest try to cram a crucifix down my throat.

Another time my arm was twisted so hard that two of my fingers were broken. Also because of repeated molestations, my colon was ripped open twice. None of these incidents were ever investigated by the police or any other "authorities" on the reservation.

I was the one who ended up going to prison where I stayed for a number of years. While it wasn't a great situation, it ended up being the best place for me to be because that's where I came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior.

One day a visitor came to the prison and spoke to me about Jesus and told me that this person loved me so much that He died to set me spiritually free and that even though I was physically in prison, I could be free from my fear, shame, anger, and bitterness for all that these wicked men put me through for so many years. As he spoke to me, I came to understand that Jesus is the best friend that anyone can have.

So right there in the prison, this person led me in a prayer asking Jesus to come into my life and make me clean and whole again.

Throughout my life I have been "diagnosed" with just about every "malady" associated with "trauma" and "homosexuality"-HIV, PTSD, bipolar, Hepatitis C, schizophrenia, psychosis-I could go on and on.

I was released from prison and since then God sent a man who has become a great friend to me. He has been there to encourage me and help me.

I can tell you that after all the abuse and torture I went through, it's truly a miracle of God that I'm even sane today. Not only that but God has kept me safe.

I am not angry with God but I still am not over, and may never be over, all that I went through. It took me a long time before I would go to church. Just seeing a pulpit stirs up so many emotional memories of terror.

At present, I am on nine different prescription medications for all these "ailments and diseases". But I know that Jesus is healing me emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

Since I've been out of prison, I've been summoned by the state on numerous occasions to testify on behalf of dozens and dozens of men who underwent sexual abuse as children at the hands of clergy. I have testified for the prosecution at the trials of several priests.

The priest who first abused me some 50 years ago ended up committing suicide years later.

I would not have chosen to testify but I feel that God is using me to help bring justice for the many who cannot speak; to bear witness in the face of incredible wickedness and injustice. For the present time, this is my mission. This is my calling.

I ask you to pray for me that I might continue to be bold. Pray for all those who have been abused that they might find healing and hope through Jesus Christ.

Pray that I will continue to speak the truth. I ask God to protect me in the days ahead.

**Editor's note: What you read here is true. However, because this man's identity has not been made known in court, he has asked that this be anonymous. We are honoring his wishes and ask that you pray for him as God knows who he is and all he and thousands of others have been through.