If it Quacks Like a Duck...

 

  

Inspired by a friend's recent post, urging people to speak up about harassment or abuse, I came this close (holding my thumb and forefinger about 1/4 inch apart) to finally telling my side of a story which happened over a decade ago (how can that be possible?)
 

I wrote it all down in my new blog (here,) then just saved it instead of posting it. Today, I deleted it. The thing is, cathartic as it was to pour out the sordid details, it also took me back to a time I have tried so hard to forget. People who let me down and events that were on par with getting a diagnosis of terminal cancer or finding out your lifelong favorite football team hired dog-killer, Michael Vick...
 

They're supposed to be the "safe" ones. The people who have taken a vow to "do no harm" or follow the teachings of Jesus Christ. But history has proven no vow or white collar or robe ensures that person won't morph into a demon when their human frailty is tested. Just ask a Catholic altar boy.

Even worse - those who hire or support them. The ones who don't want to get their hands dirty. People who claim to be "merciful" yet surround themselves with henchmen to do their dirty work are, in my opinion, despicable hypocrites.
 

Sounds dramatic, huh? Actually it was, but even more so, it was sad. The upshot is, my life was turned upside down by a mentally diseased human, who carefully calculated and acted out a scenario worthy of Shakespeare. That it took nearly a decade to come to fruition shows how devious a mind can be. For me, it was like watching my life's work go over Niagara Falls in a barrel. There I stood in my little yellow raincoat; helpless to stop that barrel.

 

This particular person was very calculating. He had a lot of people fooled. If only I had paid attention when something (God, the Holy Spirit, the ghost of my dead grandmother) tried to warn me when we first met. I remember that day vividly.

 

Church members, who were on a personal campaign to bring as many people as possible into the fold, like it would ensure them a good table in Heaven, stopped me in the hallway of our church office one Sunday morning. They wanted me to meet their newest recruits - I'll call them Fred and Wilma. Now "Wilma" was very sweet. When I shook "Fred's" hand, however, and looked into his black eyes, a chill ran up my back and the hair on my neck stood up. I had a visceral reaction that this person was evil. Turns out my gut (or grandma) was spot on.

 

Over the years, it was like he made it his personal mission to infiltrate my life and work. I hated him but that's not "Christian" now, is it. So, I did something I have repeated with several similar situations in my life; when my gut told me a person was trouble, but my heart wanted to prove otherwise.

 

In every single one of those situations, rare though they've been, my darn gut was right. The "something" I did, which came back to haunt me, was to try and befriend the person. Like the persistent door to door salesman, sticking his foot in your open door, that was all this man needed to gain entry into my life. It was all downhill from there.

In the end, I just had to confront the demon. I was not going to let him into my life. He could not control it or me. Because he had wormed his way into a position of power in the church, it was him or me. The good old boy's club sacrificed me. I mean, this guy had managed to get ordained! I was simply a long time, faithful employee who did not have the necessary appendage to win: a penis.

 

Oh, but a year later, a more powerful penis brought him down. The husband of the young woman he seduced when she came to him for counseling. When the husband caught them he went straight to the the District Superintendent and, not wanting to risk scandal, they promptly defrocked and fired him. To this day, no one has offered an apology to me. Probably for the best because I wouldn't accept it anyway.

 

Folks, if you're listening out there - trust your gut!  If it quacks like a duck, it's probably a sociopath in a duck suit.