As far back as I could recall I’ve been a loner. I never cared for sports, I didn’t like any competition of any kind because “there needed a loser to have a winner.” Board games were out if any reading was needed, so I separated from most of them, unless it was one on one, cowboys and Indians was one of my favorites. I was always an Indian. I stripped naked, got a belt and a towel, and made a loin cloth. It was always hand to hand. I suppose I was always the “underdog.” I liked being that.
As for having friends, I really didn’t know how to be one. I’ve felt out of place, very seldom could I relate. This caused a lot of problems for myself as time has gone by. Come to think of it, I’ve learned to trust no one and would test read those around me.
I basically was to left myself as a child and learned how to construct things. My mother didn’t know how to deal with me. Although I tried to, I really didn’t know how to communicate. I was always told “a child should be seen and not heard.” So, I shut down or got beaten down.
I can’t remember being able to read at any of my grade levels, probably because I couldn’t relate or see any importance to it. I was always in a daydream and drifted to the point I couldn’t concentrate. I would always imagine that I could fly by taking 3 steps and a hop, then fly over buildings and look at the people walking around.
Formal Education wasn’t my thing. I felt that it was only to prove to others how smart I was. Never did I think it would affect my life in later years. I can only remember reading one book as a child – Dr. Seuss “Green Eggs and Ham.”
Through some kind of frustrations, around the time of 6 years old it was the first time I tried to take my life by hanging. My mother saw me hanging from a rope which I placed around my neck after I kicked the box I was standing on. After that, and a couple of more incidents, I ended up seeing a psychologist. We would play checkers and he would let me win to a point, then clean the board to see my reactions. I remember just laughing.
About the same time there was a book which I found on a shelf. I use to take it and hide and go through the pages. It captured my attention and took me places of imagination, thoughts of the pictures – words I couldn’t read. Yet my imagination pondered and thinking of the characters on the pages, yet not knowing the meaning. On the cover there was a family on a ship. “Back into another daydream.” In the pages, there was a man standing in rags, heavy in chains, just as the wild cats, while they laid in front of what looked like a king. The other was a man having arrows being shot at him as he stood on a wall.
What was this? Who were they? More importantly why?? Why Was this happening to them?
Those were the only books which I can recall, as a child. I can’t even remember being read to by my mother or father. Not one book interested me unless it captured my imagination.
It wasn’t until my early 20’s, that I read another. I struggled with the words, yet this book made such an impact on me. I missed the purpose of it. I listened to those “church leaders” through their perception of what it was about. I let my feelings go and took their word- ” wrong!” even though it changed my thinking in life. It was the same book I recalled as a child, it was The book of Mormon.
This book was how I learned to read. I read it as a history book, yet it spoke of a man who had to be of some importance to me because even after his death over 2000 years later he was still talked about. This man was named: Jesus Christ. I was totally confused about his role and what he was saying and trying to do. I didn’t even understand why there was so many wars over his name. I felt something that there Was more to it, yet beyond my understanding. So when I was introduced to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I felt special, or should say— Wow— honored to belong to the truth.
Now, after serving the queen of England, now I can serve the king, with all my heart and soul, in assisting to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man. Little did I know of the meaning. I knew nothing of the meaning, except that which I was taught – brainwashed again! (That was the second time of brain washing.)
I remember being asked at the last moment to bless the sacrament. I was extremely worried. It took me over 8 times to read it without fault. I could hear the murmuring and the frustrations of the congregation. I didn’t care what was being said and I was even asked if I’d like someone else to take my place and take over. I said no, I was asked, so I’ll do it. I knew that I had to memorize the rituals, the set prayers and ordinances.
After 35 years of being a member and raising a family of 7 children, all I knew was that I needed to serve the “king.” I served in many leadership positions in the church, from being ordained to a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood, then elder, seventy, and high priest group leader, many other offices, and even became a temple worker. My questions “within” still were unsatisfied even after all I thought I’d done and was doing in the church, it was empty and frustrating.
As a child even into my adulthood I loved history stories which included religious stories. The more I thought, it caused a great amount of confusion. What could I trust? Who could I trust?
I trusted my father. My father joined the Air Corps when he was under age as he was born in 1932, in Los Angeles, California. I could go into his life and how he affected mine, as I followed his steps. Yet some other time.
I was born in 1959 in Warrington, England. Shortly, in 1963 we were posted to the states. We moved to Henderson, Nevada, where my sister was born, my older brother was born at Burton Wood, USAF base in Warrington in 1958. All who remains of my family to date is my sister and I. We moved a lot within my life.
All I wanted to do as a child was to play. I’ve always been an adventurer, yet very few adventurers I’ve done has not created some kind of pain, be it broken bones, being ran over by a semi at 8 years old, breaking my leg, on and on. My adventures through life led to many broken bones as well, and near-death events. I have many scars of experience and knowledge.
I left school at 16 and had many dreams to follow. How could I ever expect anything less of myself? I despised what I was expected to do for money, as I knew I couldn’t get enough because of the unfairness of education and what it does. So, in my mind, I had to do that which I thought I needed to do.
At 16 years old, I pondered and looked at two of the oldest professions in the world with the limited secular education, I had. I suppose it has always been a case of survival – within my capabilities! I joined the British army to become a mercenary, a hired gun man. It was the only thing I thought I could do. I knew that my life span would be 4 years, top. If I survived, then with my earnings, I could move back to the states and open a whore house. What was there more than that? Or so I thought.
Even then, I still never grasped the meaning of life. I had no more respect of others than I had for myself, and didn’t have much for myself. I needed the why!
I met my ex-wife while I was a soldier in Northern Ireland at 18 years old, after serving in Ireland for 7.5 tours (3 1/2 years). I knew nothing else other than being a soldier and pain. (No need to go into all of my dealings.) Yet there came a time as I was the NCO, I, handing over to a private in charge, I went on a solo patrol as I left my post. I recall walking into a field nearby the officer’s housing where I was responsible for guarding them and their families. I was disturbed. It was a cold, clear night. The tall grass was wet with the rain that had just passed. I walked for a while, knowing what I wanted to do. I sobbed as I walked crying out loud within—why? Why? What the fuck has this come too? So confused, so much internal pain of nothingness that made no sense, I dropped to my knees, locked and loaded my rifle, put the barrel in my mouth, safety off, thumb on the trigger, chatted my teeth on the steal and was going to take my life.
Yet, I said to myself, “I’m not going with sadness.” So off I went into memories, “daydreaming of the good times I had as a child playing and laughing. I didn’t want to go feeling guilt or any sadness, I wanted to go feeling as a child, happy and carefree.” I pulled the barrel from my mouth and fell on the ground crying, not making any sense of all of it. After a while I removed the round from the chamber put it back in the magazine, cleaned myself up and went back to my post.
Still I had no answers, yet I knew not to pull the trigger.
Anyway, life went on as a soldier. I became cold and dark within, no more emotions got in my way. Needless to say, I had been discharged with an honorable discharge, as I ended up on the IRA’s wanted list (Irish Republican Army)—a wanted man. There was a price on my head.
Shortly after my discharge, some of my company was shipped to the Falkland’s war between the British and Argentina. I’m glad I wasn’t part of that one!
My girlfriend, Florence, gave me a different perspective of life. “There was always pain.” I never felt the acceptance of any other for who I was. l witnessed a lot of results of religious beliefs, of senseless violence, of shootings, bombings at the time of the mid 70’s. I couldn’t make any sense of it. Both sides said they believed in god, both worshipped Jesus, yet Catholics and Protestants were in arms against each other. Who was right? It turned my stomach that they fought over which was right, as one persecuted another. I was confused more than ever. It seems I wasn’t catholic and was labeled as a protestant under the queen of England. I ended up biased and blamed the Catholics for the troubles, regardless of who was right and who was wrong. Pride of the crown, ” serving the queen,” became my God. I never did follow through with my foolish ideals of taking another life for money, as an independent private hired gunman
Florence and I married, joined the church, and did all that which was required. Yet, I still had a lingering lack of understanding.
In 2014 I came upon the work MWAW. Yet I still had no trust in anyone. I was introduced to someone who became my friend. Yet upon hearing his voice, pride and ego set in and didn’t like him at first, because of his accent. His name was Dominic Larson. He was from Ireland and was an enemy of mine in the conflict of N. Ireland. I had to let my ego go if I wanted the truth. I let “both go.”
I was told of a book, the sealed portion of the Book of Mormon, the greater part. I tried to read it, yet still my pride sent me into frustrations, confusion, and disbelief. Yet there was something still there. I went through a hell of pride. I tried to be as still as possible and listen.
Little did I know! I needed the truth, yet how could I see it? I was sick and tired of deception, “mainly of my own pride.” It wasn’t until I read the 3rd book of my life cover to cover, The Dream of Mortal Life—Understanding Human Reality. Never have I been so satisfied with actually having and knowing The Real Truth! I learned, oh how I learned. Yet with learning, I need for myself to put into practice.
Each day now I see ….
After reading The Dream of Mortal Life and testing, I finally decided to read 666, The Mark of America—Seat of the Beast.
Yes, I’ve have made mistakes, and still do from time to time. However, I could never deny that which I know of what I know. The Real Truth of the solutions which the Humanity Party and the Marvelous Work and Wonder have to solve all of the problems which we have created as humans, to answer all the Why’s! The True explanations of the Why’s and how it’s plain to see. This could and can be found within the words, be it written or spoke of, by the World’s True messenger, Christ-opher.
There is no other way.
There is much more which I could expound on, yet don’t just take my opinion.
As has been stated by those who know:
He is The true messenger and I would admonish that you listen.
As for Trust, There is one! If there is One, then there is hope.
Through this work of The Marvelous Work and Wonder, along with many of those who know my life has forever changed.
My closing thoughts:
Read the Books.
Gary Donal Slease
385-448-9498
Well on January 12th 1955 in Fillmore Utah John k Adams was born to Kenneth Benjamin Adams and […]
