I want the world to know my story. I want my family to know my story. I want Stormy and Emma to know my story and to know why your uncle is now allowing you to find out for yourself what you want out of this life.
I want to take you back to when I was eight years old. One evening, I was with my family and the nightly news came on and told of a story where there was a bombing and lots of people were killed, including children. I watched in horror, wondering what kind of a world we were living in, that little children could be disregarded and disposed of in such a horrific way and wondered whether I was any safer than them. That night, I went to my room, curled up in a ball, sucking my thumb and holding my teddy bear, praying to God that He would fix things and that he would bless all the children in the world. It wasn’t fair that children had to live in such an unsafe world.
My dad was an LDS Priesthood holder, who had served in the military and went on to San Francisco to become a police officer and then a vice squad officer, hired by the FBI to spy on his own department. He would often come home, complaining about the state of our world. He said that San Francisco was like Sodom and Gomorrah. He was very prejudiced against blacks, gays, transgenders, and transvestites. I heard over and over again that he would love to stand on top of the San Francisco mountains with a blow torch and burn it all down.
He would often bring home books of mug shots to show the family. He would use these as props in his Family Home Evening lessons to teach us what we should not become like. He once told me that if he did not beat his children, they would turn out just like those people in San Francisco. So, we all feared Dad’s wrath.
He often fought with my mother, causing her to leave us with babysitters the majority of the time, so she could escape.
He slept during the day and worked during the evenings so he spent little time with us but the time that he did spend with us, although I do remember some good times, the majority was dealing with his anger.
Because of my dad’s anger and meanness, and me being a sensitive child, I remember thinking that I did not want to grow up and be anything like my dad. I believed that if I could remain a child, doing childish things, I could avoid becoming a mean adult. This would stay with me throughout the bigger part of my life. It was my coping mechanism.
When I was twelve, Dad left the police department due to threats to the safety of him and his family. He was retired on a disability retirement. We moved to Utah to be closer to the Mormon church. Dad found a job working at Job Corps as a painter. I remember every morning Dad would put a small, pocket-sized Book of Mormon in his back pocket to read whenever he had a chance. This was the first time that I got interested in the Book of Mormon. I fell in love with it. I read that book over and over.
Mom and Dad’s marital problems never got better. After high school, during Dad’s studying, he found out about Brigham Young and his polygamy. He tried to convince my mom that she needed to live it with him. She said she wasn’t happy the way things were, what made him think that she could be happy if he involved more women. They decided to get divorced. Dad said he was leaving to go to Mexico. He said he could get a big house from his retirement and hire maids and servants to serve him the rest of his life. Dad told me that if I didn’t go with him, I would never see him again. I knew my mom would forgive me.
Along the drive, he suggested that we stop at a polygamist ranch (Rockland Ranch). I met Bob Foster, the Priesthood leader. Bob Foster saw that I was a strong, young man who could work hard and offered for me to stay and help them dynamite caves and build into them. He also told me that if God approved, perhaps I could marry a couple of his daughters.
In time, I became disillusioned by polygamist groups as I came to realize that they all had the same desire for control through Priesthood Authority as the LDS Church that I had left.
During this time, there was word of a man who had met Jesus and had many experiences on the other side of the veil. His name was David Witmer. Long story, short. I would meet David Witmer, move to Saint George and build houses for him for the next six years.
In 2005, my dad called me, knowing that I loved the Book of Mormon and was waiting for the sealed portion, and told me that there was some crazy guy who claimed to have translated it and would I like a copy? I asked him to get it to me right away. I remember he overnighted it to me and there wasn’t enough time in the day for me to spend reading it. I devoured it every moment I could. In about 2-2 ½ weeks I was completely done. David Witmer claimed to have read it at the same time. I asked him what he thought of it and he said the guy had made everything up. I was heartbroken. I was angry. I was hurt. I wanted people to stop lying. I remember I threw the book out the window of my truck, while driving down a dirt road. I ignored what that book had done to me … how it helped me understand things more clearly. For now, I was angry and wanted nothing more to do with it.
Over time, getting to know David Witmer better, I figured out that he had not met Jesus because of an experience that I had had. I told him, “David, you told me you had met Jesus but it all happened in your head.” He said to me, “Well, is it any less real if it happens in your head?” I was so disappointed. I couldn’t get far enough away from him and this started my search for truth all over again.
I wanted to know. I had to know. What did God expect of me? I would do ANYTHING to know.
One night, I was on my hands and knees, completely distraught, begging for answers. The thought popped into my head, “Find out what Christopher is doing.”
I Googled his name and up popped the Marvelous Work and a Wonder. I couldn’t believe all the books that had been written since 2005, when I had read the Sealed Portion. There were two videos on that page called Human Reality, Who We Are and Why We Exist. I watched them over and over and knew, with all certainty, without any doubt, that I had found what I’d been searching for my whole life.
How has this work changed my life? I have realized I do not need to remain a child, doing childish things. I could have never been like my dad because my heart is that of a child. I love all people and hope the very best for everyone. I realize now that I am in control and in charge of all of my actions. I’ve married a wonderful, beautiful wife who sees the best in me. I really have become a new person. The Real Illuminati and the work that they are doing has changed me for the better. It could change the world, if given the chance. I hope anyone wanting to make a drastic change will give the Marvelous Work and a Wonder and The Humanity Party a chance to change them from who they are to be who they were always supposed to be.