At the age of 10, my Dad was crippled and I moved in with my Mom. She was involved in another abusive relationship. Now I was being disciplined by a strange man with my Mom’s blessing. I was pretty numb inside. My little heart and spirit had been damaged irreparably. I was a veteran of abuse. Eventually, because of the situation at home, I started to run away to Toronto on a regular basis. My Mother had discovered hidden under my mattress, many pornographic drawings I did. She made me burn them in the back yard in front of everyone. I remember feeling pretty embarrassed as well as angry. It was at this time that I experienced my own body and sexuality. I was 12. I began running away to Toronto on a regular basis. Surviving by my wits and instincts, I ate and slept by allowing strange men to take me home and traded favors for food and lodging. They usually had pornography which I was totally consumed with looking at. I was seduced into the world of posing at that age by making the connection with a photographer in my favorite place, an adult book store. The police would eventually pick me up and return me to my mother. This went on for about a year.

Finally, one day, I thought of saying to my Mother: "Mom, I wish you were dead, send me to jail." What I actually said was "Mom, I wish you were dead, send me to reform school." I think back on that moment now and it hurts my heart to see the look in her eyes. I can’t imagine how she felt. She did what I asked though: took me in front of a judge and with disbelief in his voice, he sent me to reform school as I wished. There were 500 boys in this place and homosexuality was commonplace. It went far beyond casual experimenting. I recall getting emotionally involved at the time, briefly. The first or second night there I ran away. I ran away 35 times all total.

My Mother used to hitchhike 100 miles every couple weeks to come and visit me. My heart really hurts when I remember those visits. We didn’t say much. There was a lot of space between us. The damage was immense. We would sit a few feet apart and not say a whole lot. Just stare vacantly ahead and mutter. At the end she would hug me and kiss my cheek and tell me she loved me. My eyes are full of tears as I remember those moments. I continued to run.

After several stints in Toronto I ran away to New York City. The first time was in 1969. I hit 42nd St at a very young age. I remember being passed along like a numb rag doll from stranger to stranger. Each event getting weirder and weirder. When I say numb, what I really mean is limp in spirit or harder in heart. Very subdued to each situation.

I eventually left NYC and headed south to New Jersey. I was picked up in Millville N J one night at a bus stop. The local Newspaper ran a story that said "Spirit of Huckleberry Finn lives in a young Canadian boy." Looking at a map a couple of days ago if I would have kept on going I would have come to a dead end at the bottom of New Jersey. They returned me to the reform school and I continued to run.

I returned to New York in 1970. I lived in the East village for a time. Stayed wherever I could and paid my way the only way I knew how. Then I wound up in Sheridan Square Park one morning. At this time I was introduced to the "gay" lifestyle. Some guys were sitting around injecting speed. I was offered some and said sure. I stuck out my arm to get injected and I recall the guy asking me if I had ever done this stuff before. I replied…all the time, sure. He injected me with some and I experienced a whole new sensation. It is a stimulating drug and the next thing I knew I was awake for a whole week. No sleep for seven days straight. I was introduced to Christopher Street, a new kid on the block. I remember the attention only lasted for a short time because there were new kids showing up every week. That first week I recall going to a club called "The Sanctuary." It was really weird. A Baptist Church converted into a gay disco. I remember being tagged as "chicken." It is a word used to describe youth, usually runaways wise to the street life. I was befriended by a few people who looked after me on a continual basis. After it was all said and done, I ended up back in Toronto shortly after that. It was July of 1970.

After many minor arrests I went to prison. From October 1972 to the spring of 1976, I spent all but maybe 3 months or so in jail. Provincial Jail was very supervised, and there wasn’t much activity in there. I just got angrier and angrier. In 1976 I was introduced to the "gay" lifestyle in Toronto. Once again. I was the new kid on the block. It was insanity. The summer of 1976 was a whirlwind of alcohol and carnality. Once you’ve been around the block a few times it all gets pretty familiar. Selling myself became second hand. I remember that summer went by like a blur. I went to prison again in 1977 and this time went into a special unit for those who were openly homosexual. I began to identify openly. Then in 1979, I came to Vancouver. I slipped in and out the "lifestyle." A few times I met women and had relationships with them. It seemed easier to let them do the work. As well it gave me a sense of being a man. I never really felt like a whole man when I was involved in the "gay" lifestyle. It was always an easy means of survival for me though, monetarily, as well as emotionally. I recall the clubs. Nothing seemed to satisfy and I was getting pretty numb. I got involved with some serious crime. I didn’t know what I was anymore. Not as far as a sexual identity went. I was spent.

After going back to Toronto and surviving between jail terms the only way I knew how, hustling on the street and in bathhouses. I served some very lengthy times in various penitentiaries. Homosexual life in the penitentiary is common and very acceptable. In fact if you are not involved you are one of the select few. It is that common. I was released in 1990 from Kingston Penitentiary and relocated back to Vancouver, where one more time I entered the scene. The madness continued for a few more years. Then in 1994, after living the wild, drunken gay life, I became a very broken being. No longer able to keep away from cocaine long enough to get any kind of stability in my life I became a dumpster diver. One of those people you see pushing a shopping cart around. I was so addicted that whenever I got my hands on twenty dollars, I bought cocaine and injected it, in my neck. That’s the only place I had left to go. No one wants to pick up a guy with track marks running down their neck like a scar.

One night, at a cocaine party, I injected myself, knowingly with the AIDS virus. There was a guy there who looked like a concentration camp victim. He was dying of AIDS. He used cocaine right up to the day he died apparently. I used his needle. I recall thinking "so what, my life sucks anyway." I literally cashed in my mortality. When I got high enough, I would go on crime sprees, but I had to get pretty out of it to do it because jail had long since lost its appeal. I ended up getting arrested for a string of robberies. First I got arrested for robbing a video store. In the back of the paddy wagon I cut my throat with the tip of a bic lighter the police left in my pocket. The judge gave me bail two days later. He said "Young man, there is something seriously wrong when someone does the damage you did to yourself. I am letting you out on bail. I want you to get some psychiatric help." I agreed to the conditions. The morning I got released, I did another robbery for more cocaine. The clerk I robbed identified me by the stitches in my neck. Three weeks later I was arrested.

Amazingly enough, six months later I was released on bail to a recovery house for addicts and alcoholics. I will never forget going to a seminar and meeting a Christian who had the gift of prophecy. He laid hands on me and without knowing my circumstances, he said, "Monty, I see you going up many flights of stairs. Looks like a Supreme Court House or something. Jesus wants you to know something. Man is not going to judge you. He says, ‘I will judge you. I am the judge.’" I started to cry. Tears flooded out of my eyes. I thought "Oh no! The Lord is going to judge me." I said half-heartedly said the sinners prayer and was baptized in the pool of the motel by immersion. When I say "half-heartedly", I mean this: I didn’t know what I was doing. Baptism is for saved (fully believing the Gospel even if they have to die for it), committed people to God. I understand that now. At the time I didn’t. I still dabbled around with the gay lifestyle on and off but very infrequently.

Upon reaching Supreme Court and entering a plea of guilty there was a miraculous court decision, I didn’t get any jail time. Later I found out the judge is a born again Christian. After attending various 12-step meetings, relying on a God of my own understanding, I stayed clean and sober for 4 years. In that time I finished my suspended sentence and probation..."Even without drugs and booze, the carnality continued....I recall laying my head down at night and thinking to myself, "Man, are you ever a loser. Here you are sinning with your eyes wide open." Then I found out most of the guys I knew who attended meetings were doing the exact same thing. We would all comfort each other with sayings like: "Well, at least I’m not using dope or booze" or "Be patient with me, God isn’t finished with me yet."

Eventually I began using drugs again. Somehow, I never lost my apartment. But eventually I lost everything except my life. One night, after my apartment was invaded by addicts and everything was stolen, I was standing at a bus stop not quite knowing what to do. As I waited for the bus, I heard a small voice say "Don’t go home tonight, go stay with your friend across the street." I listened to that voice. The next morning the police cleared my apartment out for me. I was wired on 100 mls of methadone at the time, struggling with cocaine. Then as I took an inventory of where I was at I felt drawn to church. I began to seek God.

I went to Church for 6 months starting in September of 2002. I began hearing about Jesus Christ. How He died and rose again for all sin, every sin there is. Then in January of 2003, I was distinctly called to the church I now worship at. One Sunday at the meet and greet, some guy shook my hand. He said, "I’m glad you are here friend." I heard sincerity in his voice. He meant it. After the service he invited me to lunch in the boardroom with a group of people like myself. I took up the invitation. There I met Ken and Val, a couple who have a real heart for guys and women like me, prodigals. Ken asked me if would like to go to Alpha. That he would pay for my meals. I didn’t have anything to do on Wednesday nights so I said "sure." The Alpha Course never led me to Christ. But I really was intrigued by the believers. I thought they were pretty pleasant folks and very sincere.

I really started listening in church. But with such a dark, sin laced past, I wasn’t sure if I qualified for forgiveness. Somehow, through visiting a Christian site, I started e-mailing a pastor from Australia. He began to tell me about Jesus Christ, how He was crucified for all sin. I said "David, how could Jesus ever forgive me? You don’t know me. Where I have been or what I have done." Finally, he said, "Listen, Paul killed Christians yet Jesus loved him so much, and Paul finally wrote half the New Testament." Shortly afterwards, I was sitting in my bedroom one night and I heard this accusing voice. It terrified me. I heard a voice say "Pick up the phone and dial 911, then tell the police every rotten thing you ever did that you got away with and go to jail forever." I heard that voice for 3 weeks straight. I would unplug the phone before bed for fear I would do something stupid. Other nights, I would wrap it in duct tape. The accuser continued to torment me. I thought I was losing my mind.

Then one night my friend Ken called. He said, "Monty, Billy Graham is on channel 10." I said thanks and hung up, and switched to channel 10. Billy Graham began to talk about God and all the universes He created. He talked about the Garden of Eden, how Satan deceived Eve, how Adam ate the forbidden fruit after her. He told about the tree of knowledge of good and evil and about the other tree, the tree of life. He spoke about how angels with a flaming sword were placed in the East Gate after God expelled Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. This was to prevent them from entering the Garden again and keep them from the Tree of Life. Then Billy Graham talked about how God sent His Son Jesus Christ to Earth to die in our place, for every sin there is, every sin there ever was, or will be. If we just come to the cross and repent. Then he said, "Now I have told you about God, and Jesus, and Heaven. Now I’m going to tell you about someone else and some place else, and man, you don’t want to go there." Then he talked about Satan and Hell. The choir sang "Just as I Am."

He led in the sinner’s prayer. My hand shot up in the air as I repeated the prayer. "O Lord Jesus, thank you for dying for my sin. Lord, I’m sorry, I repent. Please forgive all of my sins. Come and make a home in my heart. Fill me with your Holy Spirit. Thank you Jesus." My hand felt like it was on fire, holy fire. The voice, the condemning voice, stopped. I called the toll free number at the bottom of the screen and some lady named Evelyn prayed with me for a half an hour as I wept. A week later in my kitchen, as I sang a song to myself I heard in church, "Lord, I lift Your name on High," the Holy Spirit moved on me like and earthquake from above. I wailed like a baby for 45 minutes while I was cleansed from years of pain and self abuse. All the shame, hurt and torment left me and He transformed me. I was recreated.

I learned that when you become a born again Christian, you don’t achieve perfection. But at that moment, when you accept Jesus Christ as your personal Savior, you are sealed unto Him forever. He is so good, full of grace and mercy and waiting right now for anyone to cry out to Him. He loves each of us so much that He came here to do something we could never do on our own, atone for our sins. Heaven cries out for blood. Blood is life. His shed blood provides life eternal for anyone who accepts His offer for believing on Him.

Thank you Lord for lifting me out of the miry clay, and for setting my feet upon a rock. Thank you for eternal life, never to be separated from you no matter what. Thank you.

---

Recent Email From Monty:

Dear David,
The hot tears flowing down my cheeks testify to the quality of its [the testimonies] content. After all that, and God still loves me. Now I am openly crying. After such a life I know the Lord does not expect perfection. Until I reread it I didn't quite realize the brokeness of my life. There are still many scars, mostly internal ones. Some may never fully recover, not in this lifetime. The important thing is I am eternally secure in the knowledge I am going to heaven to be with Jesus Christ, Father God, the Holy Spirit and all the saints and angels...forever praising God. It has been almost 3 years now since I got saved. I have gone through some tough times. But the Lord is faithful and true. There is no other way to the Father, but through the Son, by accepting what He accomplished at Calvary. The New Testament uses the word propitiation, that means substitution, He died in our place and He paid the full price. As a result God's wrath is completely satisfied. In this dispensation of grace, God has put all sin behind His back. But we must come, just as we are, with no excuses, to recieve His grace, admitting we are sinners in need of a Savior, Jesus Christ. How I pray this helps you to understand the mercy and grace of God. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. May God Bless you all. May He draw you to His Son, the Holy One of Israel, Jesus Christ. Come for a cleansing to Calvarys tide, there's wonder working power in the blood.
Monty