I was baptized as an Episcopalian, but before I was old enough to really understand about God, I learned to hate Him. I was a troubled child and teenager whose parents divorced when I was 12. This was when I first did LSD, but had been doing inhalants prior to that. Shocked? I had begun stealing drinks at family picnics around age 5, and was smoking cigarettes at 10, then pot while stealing people's prescription drugs when I'd baby sit up to the age of 17. I was constantly running away from home as early as 5 years while tugging my little brother with me sometimes out into the winter cold. I hated my life and constantly asked God why, with no answers.

My mother at the age of 8 developed diabetes and had scarlet fever that scarred her heart, so since my birth she was either in her bed or coming out of the hospital where I took on her responsibilities and began taking care of myself and brother maybe even earlier than 5. My parents, when together, constantly fought and then after I was 7, it was mostly about me. My uncle, who my mother always told me was 16, sodomized me during one of our "games" that we would play. You know the standard, nurse/doctor games little kids play with each other.

Recently, I was told by one of my uncle's blood relatives, and understood their viewpoint and need to talk about it as it also affected them. He was trying to understand himself sexually as he was only 14, not 16. What's the difference? And, the sodomy happened because he had read a book that described it. Understandable? What they wouldn't accept or admit to when I reminded them, I had already been a willing playmate up until then, because I had no clue what we were doing nor understood the sensations I was feeling! And since that event, have felt they thought I asked for it because of their various cruel actions toward me throughout my life. I had already voiced to them on numerous occasions that I sought counseling and had forgiven him, it was their treatment toward me that was causing my setbacks. I was met with total denial on their part while pointing out my inadequacies and failures and never mentioning my successes, including expressing any care or acknowledgement of my most recent accomplishment.

And because of their constant reminding, even though it is 42 years later, I can still remember it to this day as if it had happened yesterday. He lied! He told me it wouldn't hurt and I had also bled as he said I wouldn't. In my childish anger for him lying to me, I threatened to tell and remember him looking for the rag I wiped myself with, which he later found and threw out. Yes, even at that age and under those circumstances my nature was in tact. I went and confronted him saying I saw him throw it out. He then grabbed our family's Bible from a nearby table like he used to threaten me before by pointing to it, and made me swear on it that I wouldn't tell because if I did, God would come down as lightning and thunder, strike me down and I would go to hell and burn forever! That wasn't smart on his part, because he knew how my mother and little brother needed me. This is when I first started to openly lie to others without guilt, knowing I was going to win! A tactic, I use to this day which has served me well, on behalf of another's or my defense and only if the circumstances warranted it, and are justified because of severe wrong-doing by abuse of power.

As he demanded, I put my hand on the Bible and made my promise to God while looking him in the eye stating I wouldn't tell on him. But, the first chance I got alone with my mother I told her what he did, while looking up at our kitchen ceiling anticipating God's wrath. My mother listening and watching me in shock asked me why I kept looking at the ceiling and I told her hoping she could protect me. She reassured me there wouldn't be any lightening bolts, thunder, horns or the voice of God's wrath and held me in her arms. She was right. Nothing happened except my "telling" shattered my and everyone else's world in my family, especially hers, because he told them I was lying. This is when I learned that just because someone seemed like an invalid, when moved to righteousness especially on behalf of their child, they can be pretty intimidating. My mother insisted I be taken to a doctor where it was verified I had been telling the truth. She believed me even though she knew I had been lying to her before as she later admitted she suspected he had been molesting me and was so sorry she hadn't pulled it out of me before then. And, always let me know she knew when I was lying to her afterward as I later learned the power lying had.

Anyway, to a child, when adults stop talking when you enter a room, you first assume they don't want you to know something for your little ears, so you want to sneak around a corner to hear what they're talking about. Secondly, you know it's about you because you now know you did something very bad, but, why isn't anyone openly getting punished? So, you get scared and more scared while you wait for it, your punishment to happen. And, when you see and are "allowed" to be alone in the room with your counterpart of crime and you know they're really pissed at you for telling because something happened to them, but you're not sure what, you get more scared as you know the first chance they get they're really going to hurt you. So, it becomes a game of power that they know thay have over you, all adults… To make this short, I'd come into the room and still sometimes to this day, without him not even being around but its known I'm the reason for his messed up life, I am treated as I'm different than them. They deny treating me that way, but when you aren't included in family holiday events, except the most expensive one and they're your only relative in the city who has never once visited you nor care to call to see if you are alright after a hurricane, and are continually punished emotionally excessively by comments of my deceased mother at 46 being manipulative, controlling and my birth wasn't actually planned, etc. you catch on real quick you're not loved by any of them. And, most recently it was confirmed by my father, he didn't love me…. I'm sure if you've experienced something similar you know the gist. It isn't until we become adults and after proactively working on ourselves and learning about life can we truly understand their incapabilities, but again, it comes down to our internal universal natures of asking the Universe, God, if there is one, why? Because I was born? No answer, especially from Him.

During my parents divorce, I was pretty devastated and later pissed that I had taken all those beatings from my father. One day, which has set the pattern in my adulthood, my mother made me get on the phone and ask him if he loved me and he said no. In fact, at almost the age of 50, I still ask him and am told no, he does not love me. But, this time I will never forget and recently threatened him, I'm telling and I give you permission to tell your living nightmare with the hope you will understand why…..It was during the middle of winter. We lived out in the country and he was claiming bankruptcy. Our car had been repossessed. They were threatening to turn off our heat, and because of a county territorial war over the sanitation, a big ditch was dug in-between the surrounding farms and our subdivision, which lured in the field rats for food and warmth and our house got infested. They are 20 times larger than city rats and eat right through cement. There was no door separating our basement from our living quarters, only stairs. We had large cats and my mother and brother and I noticed wouldn't go into the basement and stayed near us as we heard sounds of furniture moving in the basement. I am the eldest. Before we learned they were there, one night my mother made us kids go downstairs with her as we held knives in our hands because we thought someone had broken in. So, again, trying to help my mother, I did as she asked me to, thinking he'd come back to save us, and he said he didn't care, and I knew it was because of me.

But, he did come back to lay poison, even though he thought it was just another trick of hers! It wasn't till we were closing our garage door and one of them ran across it and he saw it for himself, he believed me. He still had his gun hanging on our family room wall and ran inside, grabbed it, came out and shot at it, but missed. Great, I thought, now everyone thinks he shot my mother or one of us! Later, I watched him pull a small ladder under the attic lid, climb up carrying his gun and a flashlight, then quickly lift the lid, slip it in and do it again for the other sides. Then he left.

A few days later they started to die and while walking on the ceiling beams began to fall through the walls. Sometimes, there would be 3 or 4 of them falling at the same time in a room. My brother and I ran from our bedrooms into my mother's room where we laid huddled together crying. My mother started to lose it and I remember my brother and I looking at each other fearing because of her bad heart, she'd die and leave us too. He was 10 and I was 12. To this day he denies even remembering it and questions why I would. Then the smell of their decaying bodies which were stuck in-between the walls attracted thousands of flies to cling to the outside of our house. Flyswatters don't work well with feelings of shame. Shortly thereafter my mother had a massive heart attack and was put in the hospital, we were sent to neighbors homes then my mother's relatives. When I returned, I had an emotional breakdown and near drug overdose as I plunged in, or should I say down into my living nightmare of a childhood.

By the age of 15, I was totally uncontrollable. I refused to go to school, began stealing bigger and bigger things and breaking into people's homes. I was becoming more "professional" than just walking through an unlocked door or climbing through a window. I learned to pick locks. I then got caught stealing at a clothing store, which was not the first time, but this time I had over $500 of merchandise that could have landed me in jail, but my mother's begging them not to, worked and I was spared. When my father learned of it, he came home and again his method of teaching me to never do it again was to beat me. But this time it was with not only his belt strap, but the buckle all up and down my back and legs until blood starting seeping through the welts and my mother made him stop. He was going to check to see if I was still a virgin because if I was stealing I was more than likely sleeping with boys.

But, I didn't shed a tear because I knew it was out of love and I succeeded at getting his attention. I put him through this test often because when he hit my mother, I thought it was out of love as they'd often end up in the bedroom afterward and seemed to get along better. It was this incident that changed my mother. She came to me afterward and told me she was sorry that she allowed him to do that and for all my other beatings and was going to seek counseling and hoped that I would still love her.

Because, she knew in her heart I was not only headed for jail, but for prison, if I didn't succeed in killing myself first. My behavior was becoming more erratic with violent outbursts or complete withdrawal. Our family psychologist determined that I was borderline suicidal and told my mother he wanted to commit me and she refused. I didn't care about anything and if I could get myself into a position of danger where I could possibly be killed, that's where you would find me, especially on the streets as a runaway staying in stranger's homes vulnerable to additional abuse. Hoping my actions would kill her! In hindsight, it could have been much worse.

After being caught skipping over 1-1/2 semesters of school at almost 16, I convinced my mother to let me attend an alternative high school, which she did, out of desperation. It was also around this same time, that I saw Reverend Kirby Hensley being interviewed by Dan Rather on 60 minutes and knew right then, if there was a God, it was with him! I had been trying for my mother's sake to be good and enrolled in a meditation class led by our school counselor. I remember excitedly walking into class telling everyone what I had saw where he took me aside and told me he was a ULC Minister! "Really? My mom wants me to find a church and I don't like none of them, but promised me if I find one I like, I can join it!" He then told me about their "alternative" S.O.U.L. Clinics and one was located near the high school that were actually churches. They sounded cool, as he said it was like the school, but more fun. So with my best friend, I went to one.

It was in this house with people sitting in groups or alone reading books, listening to music, cooking — just like the school, and some yelling and punching pillows? I learned it was called controlled acting out. It was way cool. My favorite was the role-playing. Talk about being able to get it out! I yelled, punched at pillows as if it was their face, while screaming "fuck you, mother fucker, I hate you!" (Dad) without fearing the adult on the other end would smack me! Instead I was met with a "good job!" I had a blast and became a regular. They had classes that my school allowed us to attend as an extension. I learned about cooking with natural foods and how to grow herbs while being introduced to books like, "I'm OK, You're OK." They also offered courses on parapsychology and metaphysics that I absolutely loved, which my friend the school Counselor made sure I could get into!

I also participated in transactional analysis techniques separately and in groups. Because, with someone like me, it was all about trust and at times would get painful, but it was refreshing to know there were at least one other kid who was in the same boat I was. This also is where I learned I didn't "need" to forgive myself for upsetting my family. I wasn't the cause of my parents divorce, and realized I had self-destructive behavior. But, so much damage by others and myself had already been done. It took me years later and through my Ministry to actually believe it which is why I've made it my life purpose to help others free their self by pushing Rev. Hensley's adage that it is our belief system that keeps us in shackles or free.

When you start young looking for escapes, it's very difficult to change your behavior without a solid support system. fter barely graduating high school, I started using heroin while becoming a drug dealer selling speed and left home. I never became a heroin addict, as I was constantly trying new drugs, etc. you know, still in suicidal mode. Then awhile later, moved to Madison, our state capitol, where I came across Rev. Jeff Goldstein of Peoples Church. He was 40 at the time and he and his wife, Sarah, had started a Universal Life Church in their home. So being familiar with it from high school, I started to hang out there. I was going through a pretty difficult time battling my addictions while questioning everything in life. Then one day, he asked me if I wanted to become ordained. He explained that by becoming a Reverend I could work with him in prisons and thought I'd enjoy it and it would help me, you know at least to be doing something with my life. "But, how could I become a Minister when I don't believe in Jesus and in God's wrath!" "You can work on a project that is helping out some Indians, aren't you part Indian?" Yes. My father showed me how to use clay for bee stings and loved wild flowers. I love him although he doesn't love me. "He doesn't love you?" "No, he tells me he doesn't…" How sad they said. I tried to call them today to tell them I spoke with him last night and he told me again, he doesn't love me…. You see, they do.

Anyway, I was 19 just shy of 20, and am forever grateful to him as he was an excellent teacher, coach and had a fiery spirit just like Rev. Hensley. And, helped me channel mine. I adored him as he made me feel safe, smart, loved, worthy and gave me self-confidence. He still does when I call him. With his church, I did prison work with various inmates as their Legal Advocate and learned I was good at law, especially research. During this time, we also helped a group of native American Indians obtain the same religious rites as granted to other deities in the prison which is explained on my website written by Jeff.. It was here I learned of the injustices enforced on them and when I dealt with those from the reservations. Jesus was constantly being shoved at them, and if not accepted they'd be punished which was very familiar to me. Some of their stories were just horrible, what "Ministers" did to them! Because of my anger toward the same God they despised, which allowed my uncle and others to later harm me in His name and whose wrath I didn't experience for telling, I began to understand "it" as they did. Specifically what Rev. Hensley meant by claiming it was all a BIG LIE, for others greed and egos.

My life began to change as I learned there was a whole different kind of God than I was used to and I wanted it in my life. Later, I ventured off and found other ULC Churches as S.O.U.L. Clinics, which were mostly in peoples homes, who were doing counseling with abused women and drug addictions. Throughout the years, I'd volunteer at various churches and homeless programs. I literally for the past 30 years, have been doing independent Ministry in various situations, but in my own way, which is individually and have had some successes, mostly with people who have been incarcerated. Because of my childhood and anger towards authoritative figures, especially organized religion, I couldn't bring myself to become a Preacher and start a church to tell others what they needed to do with their lives. How could I when I was still so lost myself? Now, that I'm almost 50 and have turned my life around, my sole purpose has become nothing but to help others the best way I know how which is by telling them all answers lay within and in their own time, they'll find their way, like I am. But, so many are looking for that quick fix and I know why immediately just by looking them in the eye.

Because our society associates by labels and I refuse to attend a traditional church, and felt strongly that we each have our own journey and description of what God means to us and being legally aware it's illegal to be forced to disclose our belief system, I labeled myself as Agnostic as I thought it closest to how I felt. When I looked up its definition and heard others definition knew, I was incorrect, I am of the knowing. In fact, all-knowing, one with God as God is within and without, exists of everything the seen and unseen. My viewpoints have never changed and my mother reinforced them when she reassured me I would not suffer God's wrath for telling. I suffer from the member's of my family's wrath, but it is what they were taught and they are stuck in their own path and it is with all my heart that they find their way as I am. I've realized, by holding onto that false God, who was unforgiving and full of wrath, it reinforced the self-hate that was inflicted on me. It kept me running back to my escapes, so I wouldn't feel and would remain numb as what I was feeling was too horrific or to painful to be not loved. The hardest lesson I've had to learn and have the most trouble with as everyone does we MUST let responsibility lay within ourselves.

I've been asked how I did it. Turned my life around. I did it by facing reality. We will never know those answers during our lifetime. But, we can learn and grow by facing the reality that our actions can negatively or positively affect another. And, my belief is just the same as Rev. Hensley's when we're lied to, continually brainwashed to believe in invisible things, we get invisible results. It is taking personal responsibility for our actions which goes for the person we're dealing with. If we turn our cheek when someone does us wrong, all we're going to get is that cheek hurt as the other side. The Bible is full of crap regarding forgiveness. My definition of it is it should be not be short of self-protection. You hurt me, you are capable of hurting me again, I accept this, but if I allow you to harm me again, I can't forgive myself.

I can only explain that one day it just happened. I woke up and said enough is enough, but that day was different. I understood what my teachers meant when they said, "I'm mad as hell and not going to take it anymore!" I was sick of the lies and injustices I personally endured and witnessed of others. I remember stating to myself, "I'm not Agnostic, I'm a Gnostic because God has always been there and is everywhere and it's all about our egos and the child within us." "Jesus, a major player in Gnostic teachings, even though I'm not into that part it, if he even existed, there are some awesome teachings from him just like all the other great visionaries." At that realization, I felt the hands of God enveloping me in warm self-acceptance. It was beautiful. An all-knowing God is within experience.

I remembered I've even heard its voice on numerous occasions. Once, I was woken up by it from a dead sleep so I could wake and move myself from an explosion in my apartment just before it happened and spared me harm. But, I was alone! I've felt invisible walls come down preventing me from walking in a certain direction as if it were a glass wall bouncing me back, only to learn that a crime had happened shortly afterward and a woman had nearly been killed and later met that woman by coincidence. I've felt it while talking to people as a warning… And, remembered, as a kid I had a gift of seeing things others couldn't even though I have bad eyesight which I had totally lost touch with.

When I looked back, when I was out there trying to get myself killed, it was always there protecting me letting me know it wasn't my time as I had another purpose than what I had been enduring. Or as I call them, there would be a walking angel, someone who was good who would take me under their wing and protect me. But, why did all those bad things happen to me? Why doesn't my family love me as they seem to love each other and still punish me to this day for what happened and don't accept that I'm spiritual and have made a lifetime pledge to serve God by helping others even though I don't go to a traditional church? The answer is simple. We're each on our own spiritual journey and without enduring my pain I couldn't genuinely feel compassion for others and the more I reach out to people, I learn they have pain inside of themselves also which underlies their hurtful behavior. I'm not alone and many others are seeking for answers and peace also. So, it doesn't become so personal anymore, as an adult, but empowering because there is a movement, revolution going on as more and more people as Rev. Hensley predicted are getting "Mad As Hell and Don't Want To Take It Anymore!"

The reason I've decided to open a S.O.U.L. Clinic is after all of this. I believe all of my searching and attending the "alternative" counseling groups were the most beneficial I received and it is those experiences that enabled me to pull it together, but it took decades of hard work, and surrounding myself with caring people. The ULC is the pioneer as all the new self-help new age, funk stuff that's going on today is no different than it was in the early to mid 70's when I was first involved in it through them and all along. The only difference is what's happening today is becoming more mainstream and fluffy whereas the S.O.U.L. Clinic teaches us to really get in touch with our selves, our pain so we can release it and be free, especially of the self-hate and guilt we feel because of others actions which lead us to react and because we weren't given the proper tools as children are warped adults, but we can fix ourselves.

Our daily activities are meaningless until we apply purpose and connect to others. Now we can either send out negative energy or positive energy and it does come back to us, but not always right away. This is my point. We have the choice to either allow our mindset to keep us in shackles (emotional bondage) or set and keep us free. Freedom is always in the mind. Our bodies are just our bodies and when our spirit leaves it, it turns into dust. If you've ever had an out of the body experience as I have, you'll be able to relate to this. It is you, your spirit, soul looking down at your body from above. So, when we die, where does it go? I'll know when I get there and because of the ULC and my exposure to S.O.U.L. Clinics it will be in peace, even though I still, from time to time, feel that pain I thought I successfully let go and slip and may go on a drinking binge, but it's controlled, which is a wonderful feeling. It's as if I'm saying its okay to that hurt child within, then the adult takes over and says, "now get back to work!"

It is at these times, I remind myself it is only in my mind and if it gets trapped in my muscles and nerves and stress takes over, I need to remove the band-aid and get back on track and "take care" of myself. I seek a massage or other avenue to release it. And, God be willing, with recently achieving my massage therapy license and with my plans for opening a Clinic and formulating my penal reform plan utilizing alternative healthcare, may I help others find their peace and freedom as they help me maintain mine. Even though this has affected my ability for interpersonal relationships, I've learned that it's not about how does he break through this as he doesn't need to, I do. It's my personal responsibility.