Why Do Cults Infiltrate & Destroy Families?

Psalm 12:8  The wicked walk on every side, when the vilest men are exalted.”

Perhaps one of the most disturbing things about cults, is the way they attack and destroy families. In fact, a very common deceptive cult practice is to target a fractured family, and try to become a part of that family. Or they will target the most vulnerable or youngest member of the family, and claim to have a special familial relationship with their victim. 

In my case, I am talking about a cult steeped in the false doctrine of hyper dispensationalism. To a young or new Christian, the false doctrine embodied in this cult, is not clear at the onset. It took some time to sort it out, even though I knew from the beginning, there was something seriously wrong with this teacher’s attitude and conduct. 

Since I have first hand experience with a high school teacher claiming to be my father, I can tell you how profoundly disturbing it is to have someone make such a claim, and then gaslight you to no end. He acted like I was brain dead. He carried out a galling pretence, as though I did not know who I was, or where I came from. I thought it was absurd. 

Of course I knew who my parents were, and where I grew up. I remember it all very clearly to this day. I also knew I did not join a cult. In fact I was wary of cults. I saw Moonies and Hare Krishna cults trying to recruit people, and took a wide berth around them. But they were easier to spot than the wolf in the classroom, pretending to be a pious Christian, while simultaneously staring a hole through me. 

He stared at other kids too, but he stared at me the most. I was his special target from the time I was about fourteen. Things heated up, before I graduated though, because he was bound and determined he was not going to let me go. He even told me so..”Oh no, you will not get away, I am not going to let you go.” He meant it too.

Normally cults will try to recruit followers. But in my case, I was chased down, forced into a car, taken home with the teacher night after night, and brainwashed until my eyes glazed over. There was no recruitment, and there was no consent.

He abused power to the extent, I was threatened with violence, and complete expulsion from my own family. He also claimed that not only would my family not support me defying him, but God would cast me into outer darkness. I would be separated from both family and God. He told me he was using force with me because “intervention was required”. 

If I got really sassy, and defied him, he would claim I was mentally ill, or emotionally disturbed, and in defiance of authority. If I went along with being his daughter, he was proud, and I was very special, and should be eternally grateful. He told me his love was unconditional. That too, sickened me to the core. It was a molestation of the mind, emotions and spirit. 

How is ANY kid supposed to process such lunacy? He was the lunatic, not me. He was the one who needed intervention. I knew it, yet there was not a thing I could do about it. Part of it was that I felt like I was bad. If I had a better sense of boundaries, and less guilt, I might have been better equipped to fight this guy off.

It all began just two or three weeks after my younger brother was killed in a car accident. I was devastated. We were just a year apart, and he had been my best buddy since he was born. As soon as he could crawl, we were playing together, and going places.

Within a couple of years we were outside running down the cow trails, and trying to catch rabbits and gophers. We wanted to make them into pets if we could only catch one. 

One day, we were out rolling barrels down an incline. We would each get on a barrel and see who could stay on it as it rolled down the hill. Low and behold, a rabbit jumped in front of me, and I rolled over it without being able to stop the barrel.

So, although it was unplanned, we finally caught a rabbit. It was stunned, but still alive. So I carefully picked it up and carried it home. We found a box to put it in by the wood stove, and then went out to get it some food from the garden. 

I also gave it warm milk. It was kind of lethargic for awhile. But sometime throughout the night, it livened up, and jumped out of its box. It was jumping all over the place, and leaving rabbit turds wherever it went. We could not even catch it. 

Finally we brought the dog in, and he chased it outside. I did not want to scare it into having a heart attack or something, but it was uncontrollable. 

After that we did not try as hard to catch wild animals. But we did put a bat in a jar, to see if it would eat flies. Eventually we let it go, because it was ugly, and never even moved. We could hardly tell if it was dead or alive. 

My brother and I played together outside all the time, and when we got older, we were each other confidants. His death broke me. He died in November, and his funeral was on a bitter cold day. I felt frozen inside and out, like a walking human iceberg. Everything was bleak. I felt so guilty. The last time I saw him was at a basketball game. I told him to tuck in his shirt. 

And then, he was gone. Just like that. Two or three weeks prior to the accident, he was in a fender bender while out with friends. I told him I had a dream he had been killed in a car accident. He said, “thanks a lot”. 

I felt guilty, and lost. I went from being sort of zombie like, to hyperactive. I was involved in everything, cheerleading, basketball, student’s union, school yearbook, you name it. Anything to find or create a distraction. Of course I was emotionally disturbed. Who wouldn’t be?

I still went to school. In fact I still passed with honours, and graduated when I was sixteen. So it was not like I was smoking crack. But I was drinking, and out partying by the end of the school year. So I was no angel. 

Even so, the teacher had no right to do what he did. Because I felt guilty, I was much more vulnerable. It took many years for me to realize it did not matter what I was doing, even if I was smoking crack. It would still not justify what this man did, and how much damage he caused to me, and my family.

It compounded the grief and family trauma a thousandfold. It created a lifelong complex trauma and PTSD. Nowadays people will claim to have PTSD if they fail a grade, or if they don’t make the team. I would never admit to having PTSD, as I was so afraid of being labelled as mentally ill, which would give them more ammunition to control my life. 

I just tried to cope. Finally I was forced to take stock, and realize it all had a profound effect, and I was fearful, getting flashbacks, drinking, and drowning in sorrow. They had me right wher they wanted me to be. When I was at my worst – they were beaming with pride. 

I no longer have PTSD. I have overcome it. But there is no way I would have ever overcome it if I had not freed myself of the teacher con. Part of the destructiveness enmeshed in that plot, was to keep me locked into the past. How can you deal with the past if you have someone lurking, and dominating you with a complete denial of who you are, and what your past involved? 

The teacher was denying me the fundamental right, not only to be who I am, but also to come to terms with the grief and trauma of the past. He interfered with, and prevented healing on all levels. 

When I was thirty-five, my husband was killed in an accident. The teacher was on my doorstep all over again. It was a nightmare. The emotional impact once again, not only of the sudden death and loss, but worse yet, having this looming goon, lying and conning, and taking great pleasure in my pain, was more than I could bear. He was saying the same things as he said after my little brother died. It was like I was looking at a demonic influence, and archetype that I could not shake for the life of me.

The hallmarks of all cults are religiosity, deception, identity assault, mind control, coercion, and an arrogance that takes the place of God. They are the ultimate authority. You have no choice but to obey. They have the power to punish. They infiltrate a family, in order to rip the family apart, because that is how they gain access, and control over a victim. It is also a tactic used to weaken, and dominate. It is kind of like a wolf, or apex predator that separates the calf from it’s mother. 

Our sense of self and identity is closely tied to our mother, and our immediate family. The cultist is driven to rob you of your identity. They will insist you are not who you think you are, and claim you are someone else. 

Even though I was a teenager, with a very good memory, this guy would repeat colossal lies over and over, literally hundreds of times. When you are kept awake all night, with repetitious shaming, and strangeness, it is beyond what the mind can comprehend.

At the time, I did not realize his religion was a cult. I knew something was seriously wrong with the whole experience, but I had no power of veto. I was the proverbial bad girl, and he would not take no for an answer. 

He even went as far as telling me what he “liked to believe”. He liked to believe he had me since I was a very young child. He liked to believe my mother was not really my mother. She was wicked and non-redeemable, and therefore she did not deserve to be my mother. He liked to believe I was special, but not gifted (as in being a gifted student). That too, was shameful. 

He would repeatedly tell me I was his daughter, God told him to adopt me, and I was his precious gift from God. He said I was very lucky, very special, and he was so proud of me. For crying out loud – he was a teacher. As it turned out, he was an authentic nutcase. I mean, who concocts such nonsense, other than a nutcase? 

Every time he told me he was proud of me, I almost puked. I found it to be so repulsive, I had a visceral reaction. He would tell me I had the “exact same IQ” as his wife. He repeated that lie hundreds of times.

He would say raising me gave him premature grey hairs. He would talk about how I could be a difficult child, and had kept him awake many nights. Really? He was the one who was keeping me awake. What a twisted jerk. 

He never raised me at all, in any way, shape or form. He was just over a decade older than I was. How could he have possibly raised me since I was a young child? He really should have been arrested, and lost his teaching license.

His behaviour was brazenly exploitive, criminal, and outlandish. He had no right to force me into a vehicle, and then forcibly confine me for hours on end. This is not a he said, she said case. At least half the grade twelve class witnessed him chasing me through the bush, and putting the grab on me. They saw him order me to “get in that car or I will STUFF you in that car”. Anyone from the era, who is from my home town, knows this teacher did what he did. 

He was a complete and total stranger to me. I was never once under his jurisdiction. I found him to be an atypical oddball, and very scary. I was afraid of him. To this day, I would put nothing past him. He was capable of anything. He had no morals, no empathy, and no respect for the laws, boundaries, truth, or professional guidelines. He was above the law. 

As a teacher, he was very solemn, and was often yelling at students with a booming voice. He liked to strap kids, or grab them, and muscle them out of the classroom. He was more prone to physical violence by far, than any other teacher in the school. 

What is even more icky is that he would tell other people, including members of my own family, the same warped things. He acted as though his choice to be a religious zealot made him untouchable, pious above all reproach, and arrogant beyond belief. He was a twenty eight year old teacher with a massive ego, and God complex. 

Cultists target vulnerable people and families, because they do not have a good sense of boundaries. The ultimate goal is mind control. Psychology Today calls it soul murder, which is actually true, because they target the mind, spirit, will and emotions, which is our soul. 

He stared without blinking. It was one of his most chilling traits. When he forcibly confined me all night long in his house, it was especially hair-raising and spooky, because he had large horn rim glasses, and all I could see was the reflection of his glasses, without seeing his eyes. 

There were times I wondered if he was going to kill me. It took almost a lifetime to realize the extent of damage he did to me and my family. It took a very long time to finally go to the police, and it took even longer to deal with the PTSD from those nights of torture. 

I could not extricate myself, because he was invited to every family function, and was treated with reverence. He was far more important than I was. 

There were times I resisted. Many times. I also begged, cried and pleaded with him, and every member of my family. I tried reasoning with them, knowing full well they knew I was not adopted by the teacher, and had never been up for adoption anymore than they had been up for adoption. 

This was an extension of family violence. It was a way of continuing the abuse into adulthood. When I pleaded to get out of the trap, a few times the teacher would finally say, “Okay then, you can be our special friend”.

I would gag. I did not want to be their special friend either. They were the last people I would ever be friends with by choice. They had no sense of humour. They were dreary, tiresome, flat, bland, insipid, arrogant, controlling, quiet, stodgy, and mind-numbing. All conversation was superficial and boring. I hated being around them. Every minute was like an hour.

It was like watching paint peel. I would find every excuse to go for a walk, take the garbage out, run an errand. Anything to break away for a few minutes. When I did, I never wanted to go back. I wanted to run for the hills, and disappear. 

The only reason he gave permission to be special friends, was because it meant he was still the one who was defining the relationship. He was still in control. It meant he would still have access to me. It meant he could continue lying to everyone, pretending to be my “daddy”. It also meant that within a short time, the special friend would turn into the daughter, all over again. No boundaries means, you just keep on pushing. 

Over the years, he probably gave me at least fifty or maybe even a hundred syrupy, sparkly cards. They were DAUGHTER cards, plastered with out of context Bible verses. Many of the cards were cards you would give to a six year old child. He had me locked into childhood trauma, and he was quite determined to keep me there. 

Every chance he got, he would repeat the mantra “you are our daughter”. This lie was repeated thousands of times. He was literally drilling it into me. When his kids got older, he told them to tell me I was their sister. As if the statement itself was going to make something so blatantly false, into truth.

All of it made me cringe. I would recoil, turn away, shrug it off, and try to ignore those creepy claims. Normally, I would have promptly told a person like that to get lost, pound sand. In fact, in those days, I would not have minced words, and would have told him exactly where to go.

But you have to keep in mind, he was in collusion with a very powerful member of my own family. If not for that, I would not have put up with those ridiculous lies for a country second. If I made the slightest negative comment about this guy, I faced swift, and aggressive  retaliation. 

How many people sit there and repeat over and over to their real son or daughter – “you are my son, you are my daughter”. The answer is no one. People do not have to keep restating obvious facts.

He stared, and repeated flagrant lies. Did he sit there and say that to his own daughter on a daily basis? No of course not. A person only repeats a falsehood, because they are trying to indoctrinate, and use repetition, to get that falsehood instilled into your psyche.

After awhile, I realized the reason he stared so much, is because he was always trying to evaluate the impact of his constant lying. A brainwashing cultist tries to put your mind under a microscope, while simultaneously, and paradoxically ignoring every bit of body language, and every single thing you say.

He alternated between shaming me, and telling me how special I was. When he came to our family functions, he was always given a place of honour, and would be the one to say grace, or a prayer. He had the respect of a godfather, or some kind of deity. To me, he was nothing but a disgustingly corrupt teacher. Yet I dared not say so. 

To those who support this con, and reject the truth of what actually happened, based on my own testimony, since I was the victim of this plot, I want to ask them a couple of questions. 

How do they think this whole saga came about? Since when do teachers adopt students? Since when do teachers make false claims to adopt a student, so they can justify repeatedly forcing the student into a car, and then forcibly confining them all night long?

Clearly those who know about this false adoption claim, know by now, there was no adoption. So how does a teacher take on such a role in a family? How did the false adoption claim come about? And why are they all so afraid to challenge the big lie? 

Is the teacher still going to every family function, pretending to be a pious do-gooder? I got kicked out of my own family, and he remained. People need to ask themselves what is the under belly of this dark con, and why is it so important to them?

He vehemently hated our mother. He did not know her. The men in the family were far worse, from a judgemental perspective, yet he never once said a word about them. 

Initially it was very confusing and traumatizing. I had accelerated through school, and planned to get a post secondary education. I knew my education was paid for until I was eighteen, and also knew I could get a scholarship. 

He was determined to prevent me from taking an academic route, as I had planned. He forced me into a nursing program, and then took credit for the fact I became a nurse. He did use me as a fund raising mascot for his cult religion. But then his wife immediately went back to University. In fact she graduated the same year I did. 

During that time frame, they tried to force me to sign adoption papers, and change my name. I flatly refused. They were livid. At the time I was living in Calgary, and luckily my roommate came home, when they had me backed into a corner. She looked at me like, “What the heck is going on?”

Otherwise, I would not rule out they would have used force, like physically grabbed me. I knew I did not sign those papers, but I thought they might have forged my signature, and filed the papers anyway, because they did not accept, or acknowledge my refusal. They went and told everyone there had been a legal adoption.

Many years later, I contacted the Ministry, and Department of Vital Statistics, and asked if they had filed forged documents. They said no, which I already knew I guess, because by then I had been married, and had a passport, so I knew there had not been a name change.

They lied so convincingly, everyone believed them. Even though I said no, and told people I said no, I was not believed, and they were. 

He did not use the money he raised through his church to put me through nursing. He used the money to put his wife through a nursing degree program. The plan was that she would be my mentor, and mother superior. I was an investment of sorts. Up until she went for her degree, she was very miserable with the fact her husband was obsessing over a young teenage girl.

Part of my attempts to argue and reason with him, was to tell him that following, and chasing me around all the time, was not good for his marriage. I told him his wife was not happy about it. But after she realized there was financial gains to be made, she changed her tune. 

The lie about putting me through nursing was just another lie in the coffin. He had infiltrated the family and made himself into a godfather of sorts. Then he took credit for what I was, and what I did for a living. I owed him my life, my accomplishments, my existence, my identity, and must grovel with involuntary gratitude forever. I was not going to get away. Ever.

My education was paid for until I was eighteen, and then I took out a student loan. Later on when the family farm was sold, the debt was paid off. I knew the teacher did not put me through nursing, and I never asked him to. He was an absolute lying cheapskate. He would be the last person to buy you a coffee. He was cheap to the core, and so was his wife.

They kept track of every penny, and were not the least bit generous. A few times, they were generous superficially, and then went for the pound of flesh. They always extracted way more than they gave. It was like they were some kind of royalty, and were owed everything I ever had, or earned, or did.

When I graduated from high school, I went to school in Calgary, which is more than 300 km. from my home town, or around 200 miles away. The teacher most certainly did not babysit me, and nor could he follow me around outside of school.

It was the one major, albeit a temporary relief, putting some physical distance between me, and the cult couple. They had jobs and young children, so he could not follow me around. Even so, I was far from being rid of them as I had hoped. 

In spite of all his lies about how much I needed intervention in high school, I still managed to go to classes, and wrote the RN exams when I was nineteen years old. I also managed to be on the President’s Honour Roll, and scored in the top percentile on the RN exams. He had nothing to do with it. 

The teacher took all the credit for what I did. In hindsight, this was all designed to prevent me from accepting a scholarship into an academic English literature program. If I had been able to accept the scholarship, I would have been able to establish my own career path in a field of my own choice. Not only did he devise a way to infiltrate my family, and make ludicrous claims to be my father, he also tied himself to my career. He had all the bases covered, for a lifetime of entrapment. 

The reason I stuck with nursing, is because getting a post secondary education was very important to me from the time I was in grade school. Even though I tried to break free when I graduated, I was still very much under the thumb of the teacher, and felt guilty whenever I thought of breaking free.

I did not want to be a nurse at all. It was a huge burden, and there was no credit given to me for going through it. All credit went to the teacher. At the time, I thought I would be able to get out of it, and do something else. 

They acted like they owned my home, my labour, my mind, and dictated what my IQ was. They monitored my every move, what I wrote, and if they disapproved – if I was not the nice obedient nurse, and pseudo daughter, they had the means to punish me. I was easily ganged up on. 

They set a trap, and they closed off all escape routes. Over a period of many years, he never stopped lying, never took no for an answer, and never stopped staring. 

Even as a teacher, I could not stand the guy. His all encompassing authority, and macho man, tough guy swagger was immature and sickening. He had no personality to speak of, and neither did his wife. They were as boring as hell. I had to be nice, and pretend all was well. Just plaster a smile on my face, nod my head in agreement with every banal thing they said, and assume the position. 

For years, I would put on a polite pretence, and go along with the facade, so I would not get brutalized and kicked out of my own family. I was biding my time. What a waste of a life. 

I prayed, and I hoped they would change, and mellow over the years, and eventually just drop it. But they never did. They would not consider it for a moment. They were openly and brazenly exploiting me. Their demands were increasing, and they were getting bolder by the year.

There were times I was so depressed, I could hardly function. I was a mess. A basket case. Eventually I knew I had to get free of them, or I was as good as dead. 

It got to the point where I could not even look at him. He was still getting everyone and their dog to manipulate, and pat me on the head, telling me how fortunate I was to have these wonderful Christians in my life. 

I despised him. The reason I could not look at him, was because I nearly vomited when I did. I shrank away from both of them, and all their lies. When I let them know it was destroying me – they could care less. All that mattered was the lies, and keeping me in the trap. My misery was their goal. So what good was it going to do to tell them how destructive it was? 

They believed I would never get out of it. They were smug, and self-righteous. How dare I hurt their feelings. They would repeatedly tell me that if I thought of “that wicked woman as my mother” they found it very hurtful. They would pout like spoiled children, and make a face, sort of like a mask of pity. It was so fake, and so appalling.

Over a period of many years, it was psychological warfare, with them putting on a pious look of normalcy, and vast superiority. Yet I could never, and would never forget those tortuous nights of being forced to sit and listen to his brainwashing, thought reform, and mind control when I was a kid in school. It was so creepy, it could be in a sci-fi horror movie. 

At the time, I thought I was putting up a barrier. I thought I was able to fend off the twilight zone, of his authoritarian power, cognitive dissonance, lies, and sadistic spiritual, psychological and emotional abuse. It took many years before I realized how much damage he had done.

Getting free of the teacher is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, and in all honesty I cannot take a shred of credit for it, because it was only by the grace of God that I got out of that snare. Otherwise I would have been dead long ago. I had to get out of nursing, and had to be prepared to give up my house, and every single relationship in my life.  

It was the most abusive relationship of my entire lifetime, and by far the most tenacious. To this day I do not understand why they would be so determined to destroy my life. It is evil beyond comprehension. They had their own families, lives, and careers. They corrupted their own natural children, who they doted on like most narcissists do, because those darlings are the true extension of themselves.

I was a throwaway, like something they found at a garage sale, and could get some use out of. And yet I was expected to believe I was their child? Why would I believe such a ridiculous lie? Growing up – I was not doted on, by any stretch of the imagination.

Their children were not my siblings. I barely knew them, yet they too bought into the lies. Sort of, but not really. It was like they were mocking me for being so gullible. I was not gullible. I was in a trap that was sprung on me when I was a kid in school. The thing about psychopaths, is they actually believe the victim deserves what they do to them.  

The biggest regret I have is not screaming blue murder, and getting the police involved immediately. But I was very afraid to do so. This man was a teacher, and he had aligned himself with some of my own family. I knew there would be an immediate retaliation if I went to the police. I also feared I would be kicked out of school, or persecuted so much in school that I would not be able to graduate. 

At the time, I was just months away from graduating, and moving away from the small town and school, so I thought I would get free of him then. I got married, and thought I would be rid of the teacher. And yet, those events did not get rid of him. 

It took until I was fifty years old to finally say, I will not spend one more minute with those horrible people. The last time they were at my house, I sat and watched the second hand on a big clock on the wall go round, and round. Every minute that went by, I told myself, I will not spend one more minute with them. Ever. 

Fortunately, I made a choice many years ago to stop drinking alcohol. I did not have to go to rehab, and have never been treated for a mental health disorder. I do not have any judgment toward those who do need help, or cannot quit on their own. The reason I am glad, is because if I did need help, they would have used it against me. The stronger you get, the more they double down. If you are weak and floundering, they are happy as clams. 

When they attempted to make claims I was mentally ill as a student in school, it was just another lie. There was no referral, no diagnosis, and no basis, other than to intrude into my mind, and shame me for doing well in school. He was determined to take over my mind, discredit what he wanted to eradicate, and take credit for what I did accomplish. 

It is incredible to me, how powerful men can simply make the claim someone is mentally ill, without any basis for making the claim. Gaslighting is illegal. But of course they do not care about what is legal. They use the mentally ill claim to control and stifle dissent. They use it to prevent disclosure about their own conduct, and history. 

When I terminated the relationships, I never told them outright, while they were in my home, because deep down, I was afraid of both of them. They killed numerous family pets. They were sadistic toward my feelings, and they were also cold and determined to keep exploiting me, and keep up the facade of being family, when they were not family. After they were gone, I sent them a letter terminating the relationship, and told them I wanted no contact with them. 

What did they do? They turned around and came right back to Haida Gwaii to seek me out, and challenge me. They reverted back to the stalking behaviours. Fortunately in a small town, news travels fast, and I heard they were back.

Haida Gwaii is a long way from Alberta. But they clearly were not prepared to take no for an answer. I put the chains on the doors, checked all the windows, dead bolted the doors, turned out all of the lights, and was prepared to call the police if they tried to get in.

I was doing diabetic teaching at the time, and they managed to find where the office was located. They left a note on my office door. That is as close as they got. Fortunately, I was out seeing a patient when they showed up there. I am not sure if both the teacher and his wife were there, or just one of them. 

After that, the roller coaster ride of fury, and grim orders, veiled threats, followed by absolute contempt and rejection, has been part of the punishment for getting free of that cult teacher. 

Few things could be more dangerous than having someone stay in your home who you do not trust, and do not feel safe with. In Australia, the Exclusive Brethren cult are called the Brethren bullies. They are full of cloak and dagger tactics, to include death threats, and staging suicides. In 2007 the Australian PM declared they were a destructive cult that rips families apart. In my opinion, they are part of a network of organized crime. 

Once I made the decision, it has been a major and ongoing battle. I was given a timeline to get back into it. I said NO. I was coerced, bullied, threatened, and then rejected by my own family. I have stood firm. Is it any wonder I had no power over this kind of dominance, when I was a teenage kid in school, without parental protection? I did not stand a chance. 

I guess a word of caution, is to be careful, especially when it comes to religious authority. Don’t assume they are real Christians. Be wary of push in predators. And above all, never let someone lie so much they are claiming to be family.

That is the single, and biggest red flag of all. They are using a false front to push themselves into a place of intimacy, knowledge, control, manipulation, and involvement where they do not belong – well past all natural boundaries.

The hallmark of a cult, is to claim you are not who you think you are, and they are your family. No they are NOT. Many books of the Bible, go to great lengths to describe who begat who. These lying cults will circumvent every natural law, and natural relationship God created. They also take away our God given free will. They are evil masquerading as good. 

All relationships need healthy boundaries. The cultist pushes past those boundaries, which is why he seeks to infiltrate a fractured family. When those boundaries are crossed, and those bonds are broken, he has robbed natural affection, and destroyed natural loyalties.

Through his lies, and lawlessness, he has taken the seat of the father, as well as God the father. He has pushed himself into a place of ultimate importance, centrality, control, power and authority. He is full of lying wonders. 

If anything a cult can teach is, is to know the depths of Satan. To get free of it is by the grace of God, we are plucked out of the fowler’s snare. 

As I look back, there were so many signs. So many brazen lies. So many contradictions, and things that do not align with God’s word, or character. I do remember telling him “God does not force us into a relationship with Him – so who are you to do so?”

When he told me God told him to adopt me, I said to him, “Does God talk to you out of the sky, or the walls or what?” Then I asked him, “Since it is my life, why wouldn’t God tell me too?”

It fell on deaf ears. In my experience with cultists, they will not listen, they cannot be reasoned with, they will not admit wrongdoing, or repent. 

I know we are supposed to forgive one another. This is the one aspect of my own life’s experiences I find most difficult to forgive. I can forgive my family, because I love them, and know they too have faced hardship. 

But to forgive the false teacher, is a tough one. He brought greater harm to an already fractured family. He has his own family. He has children and grandchildren. He used me, and he used our family, for personal and financial gain. 

One of the saddest things, is in knowing how many people have been lied to, and corrupted over the years. Entire systems have been corrupted over this nefarious teacher plot. 

One of the reasons I am writing, to share my testimony, and also writing some political commentary on a couple of social media sites, is to prove I am not mentally ill. Otherwise, if you have no visibility, they will lie, fabricate, and scheme up more false claims. People tend to believe it, especially if you have no visibility or voice. Just to be clear, the only time in my life I have been accused of being mentally ill, is when I refuted the teacher’s adoption lies. Cultists are liars. 

Just to present some alternate and hypothetical scenarios, to help highlight how preposterous this plot has been. Imagine if the situation was reversed, and a student adamantly, and falsely claimed to have been adopted by a teacher.

In order to create a parallel type situation, imagine if that student repeatedly claimed they were the son or daughter of the teacher. What if they insistently made false claims that there had been a legal adoption, and also showed up at every one of the teacher’s family functions, as well as repeatedly showed up on the doorstep of the teacher. 

What do you suppose would happen to the student? They would be called crazy for sure. They would be forced into treatment, evaluated, and diagnosed as delusional and psychotic. The police would be contacted, and there would be a restraining order put in place, to protect the teacher and his family. If it went on for years, the student would probably have spent time in jail, or a psych unit.

This is an example of the audacity involved when someone in authority decides to abuse power over someone who is considered to be powerless. If it was done in reverse, it would never be allowed to continue. How did he get away with it? There are hundreds of people who know about this teacher adoption claim. At the time, many people raised eyebrows, and questioned how it came about. Yet no one protected me. 

The second scenario, is to imagine an adult man, who has the hots for young girls. He has carefully set himself up to have access to young girls. He pretends to be a do-gooder, a Mr. Hot Shot, and thinks he has a good cover. He has targeted a specific girl, and is obsessing over her day and night.

So he concocts a plan to tell people he is going to adopt her. He does this so he can justify stalking her, and putting the grab on her. After all, in his mind – she needs some discipline, intervention, authority, and control over her life. It gives him an excuse, under this psychotic daddy delusion to carry out his fantasy of overpowering his victim, and being alone with her for hours on end.

It could be a delusional and psychotic mindset, where he actually starts to believe God told him to be her daddy. Or it could be an intentional criminal scheme, to abduct and forcibly confine his dream girl, without facing consequences. Either way, should he actually be able get away with such a devious scheme?

What do you think would happen to this guy, when it was realized he was lying through his teeth, was forcing a teenage girl into his car, and taking her home with him? Even though he had crafted a ruse to try and get away with his crimes, should he be able to lie his way out of it? It would not be the first time a criminal abducted a child, and made false claims to be their parent.

But in such a case, when caught, the person would have been sent for a psych evaluation, or charged with kidnapping, and forcible confinement. It would have been all over the news, and he would have faced a long jail sentence. Abduction is a serious crime. 

Back to the teacher in my life. Personally, I don’t care if this guy was religious or not. He did what he did, and there is no excuse for it. His religious stance, and teacher authority do not condone what he did. The familial collusion is a whole other Pandora’s box, yet to be addressed. 

Now, even though this is still very much part of my life, and I do want to get it resolved – I lead a quiet life with purpose, and am not the least bit miserable. There are many things to enjoy, and be thankful for. Peace of mind, a sound mind, and the simple things in life, are the most rewarding. I keep reminding myself “the just shall live by faith”. It brings great comfort. 

I know eventually the truth, and the motives behind all of this, will come to light. I just have to be patient. 

I cannot help but believe he used the opportunity to score one for the devil. He did not succeed, thank God. When his day of reckoning comes, I hope he realizes the enormity of harm he has done, and repents. 

One of the positives in this story, is that our mother accepted Christ years before she died. I was fortunate enough to visit her on her deathbed, while she was still lucid. She was radiant, and had no fear of death. She knew she was dying.

She told me she had already walked on the road with Jesus. She had so many near death experiences, I knew she was being candid. It was such a blessing to see her before she died. It was very important to both of us. I thank God to have seen her.

If not for the teacher, our dysfunctional family background would not have been disclosed. In order to get free of him, after trying for years to speak directly to them, as well as members of my own family, I had no other choice. When people do not respect boundaries, it means you have to go to the authorities. 

In addition to contacting the police, I contacted the Alberta Teacher’s Association, The Canadian Teachers Federation, the school board, and the school I attended. I contacted the Ministry of Children and Families, and Alberta Victim’s of Crime. 

It took all of that and more, to get this bullying teacher off my back. The RCMP acknowledged the wrongdoing, and the potential for charges. They also talked about the fact it might be difficult to get witnesses to agree to making statements, especially after a number of years had gone by.

But I know what he did, and I also know many others were witness to it. Most of us know it is a crime to force anyone, let alone an underage kid into a car, and then forcibly confine them all night long. He did this many times, from late November, until I graduated in early June. 

The discussion I had with the RCMP, was enough to convince me that if this case had been brought to them at the time, he would have been arrested for abduction, forcible confinement, and making repeated fraudulent claims. I am not prepared to be punished, or scapegoated any longer for the crimes he committed. 

One of the primary reasons cults do not want you to get away, is because it takes until you do get away, to piece together all the brainwashing tactics, coercion, theurgy, and bewitching mind control. 

They were always so concerned with what I am thinking. They can read my blog, because finally, I am freely sharing what I am thinking. I hope he reads this, and realizes he did a crappy job of thought reforming me.

I would like him to know he has no power over me. Yes I do think about what he did, because it went on for so long, and involved so many people. But I take it as an experience that drew me closer to God, and the truth in the Bible. So in an indirect way, the hoodoo sortilege, helped me to sort things out. 

After our mother died, it confirmed in my mind in the weeks, and months to follow – just how barbaric the teacher was. What kind of person forcibly confines a person, to repeat a litany of lies, identity assault, and tells a kid their mother is wicked and non-redeemable? It just goes to show the magnitude of his arrogance, deception, and cruelty. I do not care who judges me for the fact I reported him to everyone I could think of. They pushed me to the limits of human endurance. 

In my opinion, this is an example of a long and drawn out crime, because those who set it up, were not held accountable at the onset of this depraved plot. 

I am glad I am not in a position to judge him, because I am not quite sure how I would handle it. God can deal with him. I never could. The contradictions of biblical truth compared to what this teacher did, are glaringly obvious.

The reason I find it so difficult to forgive the teacher, is because it is next to impossible to separate the broken record of lies surrounding my own identity, from his disordered character and persona. I reject all of the lies, and therefore I reject him as the gross entity, or assemblage of those lies. 

It is kind of like looking at the reflective glare of his glasses during those all night brainwashing sessions, without being able to see the soulless character behind the glare. It is like trying to forgive a blinding mass of lies that came out of a cavern somewhere. 

When someone lies like that, and you barely knew him to begin with, you do not know who, or what, you are trying to forgive. I reject all the lies, as a matter of preserving my own soul and identity. If I try to separate him as a person, from all his lies, what is left? Not much.

I guess to try and figure out this Christian conundrum, enigma, or quandary surrounding forgiveness, it requires an ability to see the heart and humanity of the person somehow. It means we should separate the sin from the sinner. When I try to do so, all I see is an empty shell. I pray to be able to find a way to forgive this person, without accepting any of the lies. 

It is also difficult to let go of something so hideous, when the punishment for setting a boundary, and commitment to truth – continues to flog me. When family is so deeply involved in such a scheme, it is next to impossible to stop the punishment, if they will not agree to stop it. 

God tells us to honour our mother and father. It is mentioned throughout the Bible, and is the fifth commandment.

God hates a liar, and a lying tongue. It is at the top of the list of things condemned by God. Proverbs 6: 16-19, Proverbs 18: 21, Revelation 21:8 says ALL liars will go into the lake of fire.

The book of James talks about the poison of the untamed tongue: James 3:8 But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.

The Bible also tells us the fate of someone who claims ownership, or to be a parent of a child that is not their own: Jeremiah 17 10-11:

10 I the LORD search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings.

11 As the partridge sitteth on eggs, and hatcheth them not; so he that getteth riches, and not by right, shall leave them in the midst of his days, and at his end shall be a fool.

As far as family betrayal, the Bible tells us it is part of the end times scenario. Mathew, Mark and Luke all contain verses about family betrayal.

The verses from 2 Timothy speak volumes when it comes to what I have experienced:

1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.

2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,

3 Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,

4 Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;

5 Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.

6 For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts,

7 Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.

I was a silly woman, and certainly did have sin in my life. The teacher did try to creep in and take over my house. They seemed to think my home was going to be their retirement home, complete with maid service.

As I become more familiar with the Bible, there are hundreds of verses to contradict the indoctrination and lies drummed into me by this pseudo Christian teacher. I wish I had been strong enough, and well versed enough to refute those lies. By their fruits we shall know them – Mathew 7:15-20:

15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

16 Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?

17 Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.

18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.

19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.

20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.

One of my all time favourite verses is Galatians 5:22-23:

22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,

23 Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

There is still rage and punishment toward me for rejecting the teacher and all his lies. But now I understand it better:

Psalm 12:8

The wicked walk on every side, when the vilest men are exalted.

Jude 1: 12-19

12 These are spots in your feasts of charity, when they feast with you, feeding themselves without fear: clouds they are without water, carried about of winds; trees whose fruit withereth, without fruit, twice dead, plucked up by the roots;

13 Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever.

At the end of the day, and the end of the age, can we finally see, understand, and hear why God tells us to repent? If so, we have much to be thankful for.

Thanksgiving is my favourite holiday. May God bless this thanksgiving, with peace, truth, and love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Valerie Hayes

Quiet West Vintage represents a private vintage and designer collection that has been gathered and stored over a thirty-five year period. I now look forward to sharing this collection and promoting the "Other Look" - a totally individualistic approach to style.