Strong City

Letter To My Beloved Family

Dear little family at Strong City,

Today [August 19, 2009], I heard the message that my appeal for bond was denied [Read the brief filed with the NM Court of Appeals - 250k PDF]. We presented to the court the clear arguments that the trial was unfair. There were no witnesses in court who testified that I committed the crimes for which I was charged. My witnesses were not permitted to testify, and I was not permitted to explain our religion. It appears that the State has an agenda, and it is to bury our church. This brings me to a decision that I must protest what the State is doing.

When I was barely eleven, I was sexually molested by a twenty-one-year-old man at a Christian family camp as I lay on my bed. That experience greatly troubled me, and contributed to a great deal of mental confusion for the next two or three years. I was not aware that anything like that existed. I never abused myself sexually, and had not even heard that anyone ever did. This was in my young age. Before I was molested, the world was about Christmas; it was a Disneyland to me. My simple heart only knew love and happiness from the natural environment. But after I was molested, the world began to change for this little boy. A year later, I was kidnapped and molested by a man at four a.m. when I was on my Sunday paper route. This event shocked the last of my earthly innocence right out of me. From that day on, my heart would grow increasingly hard against sexual predation. The rest of my life, I began to develop a hard protest in my heart and soul against it. It did not appeal to me at all. All this happened in my young age.

Now, in my old age, I have been molested again by a dirty old man. He is the State of New Mexico. This present molestation of me has affected me a hundredfold more than when I was barely eleven. I have been used as a sex object for the State of New Mexico and Dragonfly Productions in the UK, as well as the National Geographic Channel, in their fantasy movie of me. This little boy is greatly abused again, many times over.

In an allegorical picture, I see myself as the little eleven-year-old; a dirty old man kidnaps me and takes me to his prison house at Los Lunas. He now molests me there for these nine months, and makes me his sex object. He told me, through Judge Baca, that I would be in his house for a sex object for ten years, but he would agree to let me go free if I would agree to be his sex object for another eight years after that. There I would have to register as a sex offender, because he made me a sex object.

I would never agree to register for being a sex offender, since I am not one. So that translates down to life in prison for this little boy, to be molested by this dirty old man for the rest of his life. This little boy cannot tolerate being molested by this dirty old man anymore. I am telling this dirty old man that I will not take any more food from him, or water. This little boy must protest. He would rather be dead than molested by the State of New Mexico as its sex object.

I received a letter from a fellow inmate, who tried to explain to me my situation here in prison. He noticed that after eight months in prison, I hadn’t “moved in” yet. I was still with my family on the outside. He explained to me that inside prison, one must live a fake life. One must pretend to be what he is not. They don’t like innocent people here, because it makes them feel bad about themselves, so they have to fake it and pretend to be real bad; then they get along. He explained that I must role-play, and pretend. Immediately I realized that is how people are on the outside of prison, also. They are fake and pretend, and they saw immediately that I threatened their falsehood. This made them hate me.

My friend explained to me that my conviction in New Mexico was not about sex, but about religion. “It is about the Church of Rome,” he said. “I hoped you would get out, my friend, but as I said, it is a religious issue, and you are done for, from what I have learned with people. It would be political suicide for anyone to let you go. I don’t mean to dash your hopes; it is just how people are here, and how religion has taught them to think. You have stated that you are Messiah. This claim alone will cost you ten years in prison.”

My mind went back to the myth of freedom of religion in America. It is in the Constitution, but they don’t mean it. My own trial clearly revealed the myth. I spoke also with two inmates about the DA and his lying in court. They laughed and said, “It is a game!” I said, “They give a man ten years over a game?” “Sure,” they said. “You all go to court and the DA lies so he can get a trophy for his name. Everyone lies, and they wait to see who wins, who played the best game. You will lose if you tell the truth.”

I believe that I have been naive in many ways. I did not clearly see man’s dishonesty in such clear detail. My inmate friend told me that he used to be in the Marines and worked in “black ops,” killing people around the world for the U.S. He said every country does it. It is a game to see who can win the most influence. He told me how he would work to overthrow governments, as the U.S. is now doing in Iran. My mind began to reel with the thought that the whole human race is lying. I saw the DA’s lying in a new light. The New Order lies in order to garner support for its own interests. People do not care who they kill or put in prison; they do it with a smile on their face. It’s for “national security,” you know.

The media came against me first, lying that I was a child molester. Next came the District Attorney, who is a staunch Roman Catholic, lying that I touched sexual parts of underage girls. He lied that all the young girls had to have sex with me or get kicked out of the church. He asked me also if I was the Son of God. He wanted me to look like I was replacing Jesus. None of these things were remotely true, but the jury had been influenced by the media, and everything was believable to them. Their conscience did not hurt them to convict me, because I was so evil; no matter that there was no evidence for my supposed crimes. It was politically expedient that one man die unjustly, rather than have everyone believe this man. It was the same for Jesus. The people are like the movies they watch on TV. Everyone is an actor, and no man tells the truth. It is all part of their play. I have observed a consistent pattern over the years: tell the truth and you die or go to prison.

An inmate here told me of an associate of his who used to smuggle cocaine into the U.S. for the CIA to sell, in order to raise money for some freedom fighters in the south. He went public and told the truth about his involvement. He was around for only one day after that, and no one saw him again.

Jesus and his disciples were murdered. One was banished to Patmos. Ghandi was murdered. Martin Luther King Jr. was murdered. The world is a place that only tolerates fantasy, prejudice, lying games, murder and deceit. Tell the truth, and tell it all the time, and you are ushered into the next world. But as with Jesus and Martin Luther King, they may lie and say that they believe you, putting your name on a calendar and celebrating that name one day a year. They paint the tombs of the prophets white, and praise what they did, even making movies about them, but lie the whole time.

The whole earth is a fraud of justice. I’ve learned this since I’ve been a little boy. My own trial and conviction showed me that this is true. At the very beginning of my hearings, I watched the games being played. I turned to my attorney and said, “Railroad.” She nodded. Who do these evil spirits think that they are fooling? Not I.

Do you remember, little lambs, how I heard Father in the wind; the junipers would sing and my heart would leap for joy? Remember the thunderstorms that would attend our meetings, sometimes even drowning out our songs? How I loved to walk the mountains and hills, listening for my Father’s voice. I loved sitting on the rocks overlooking our encampment, just waiting for Father to take me away. How my heart is bonded with nature. I always wait for nature to speak to me. I always long for those quiet times away from the buying and selling. This is what the State’s lie took from me. It put a wall between, so that nature was shut out. I can no longer lose myself in the wilderness. This is why the appeal. Will the Appeals Court simply look at the truth, or will they, too, consult their political interests first? Well, so far it appears that they consult their political interests first. Will justice prevail, or will the prejudice and fear of man mark their decision? Yesterday, they did not allow my bond, which tends to point to the answer to this question.

No, I’m not a victim. God put me on this altar, just as Jesus was put on his. The Father has made me to be the judgment of man. The angels are marking this moment in time. “For the Father judges no man, but has committed all judgment to the Son.” John 5:22. Jesus judged his generation, as I have judged mine. He was judged by twelve members of the Sanhedrin; I was judged by twelve members of the jury. Then Jesus was taken to Pilate and Herod, where he could appeal his sentence. I was taken to District Court and the Appeals Court to appeal for a bond; and I was denied, so far, three times. In every case I was condemned to prison, and as with Jesus, it was over a false charge. Jesus prayed three times that his cup would be removed, just as I have. But I was given to drink of it, just as Jesus was given to drink of it. Jesus accepted the cup after a time, and went on with his work, just as I have.

As you know, precious friends, my attorney has made a very clear argument that I have not received a fair trial. Of course his greatest argument, which was clearly explained to the court, was that no one testified that I had committed the crime that I was charged with. There were no victims. There was no crime. I was not permitted to defend myself, because the judge didn’t have the time to allow my witnesses. The State was also allowed to go beyond the scope of cross-examination, bringing in issues that only fostered prejudice against us but had nothing to do with the alleged crime. There was also misconduct by the prosecutor. Over and over, the trial of Jesus came to my mind, and how his trial judged the people of his day, as my trial has judged my generation. “Messiah on Trial,” as the title of the National Geographic movie goes, certainly put them on trial. Numerous times the DA asked, “Are you the Son of God?” He never asked, “Did you touch sexual parts of girls?” No, he never did. He just asked, “Are you God’s Son?” I answered, “All of God’s children are His Sons.”

The DA, or Devil’s Advocates, are the modern-day Pharisees, who like the Pharisees in Jesus’ day made a great pretense of promoting the “law,” while perverting it to serve their self-interested agenda. But it was foretold in the prophecies that the Devil’s Advocate would do this: “I was told this, that…he shall vaunt himself against the Most High and harass the saints of the Most High; he shall plan to alter the sacred seasons and the law, and for three years and half a year the saints shall be handed over to him….His designs shall be directed against the sacred people, and…he shall even challenge the Prince of the angel-princes, but by a stroke from no human hand shall he be shattered.” Dan. 7:23-25; 8:25, Moffatt.

My trial opened up more and more to me the sickening reality of how Americans now think. They can cross themselves, go to confession, sprinkle holy water or recite prayers, and they seem comfortable that God accepts them; but just let someone actually get God, and receive Him into themselves, and it’s off to prison with him. In earlier years, these Sons of God were fed to lions or burned at the stake.

The word “Messiah” actually comes from the word for anointing. This anointing is the Anointing of the Holy Spirit. All of God’s children are anointed with Messiah. They become Sons of God, as the scriptures declare. Jesus was born with Messiah, and we born again with Him; but there is only one Spirit, one God.

On the cross of Jesus, they put “King of the Jews.” On my cross, they put “Messiah on Trial.” The truth is forced from their lips; and by this, they are judged. God will judge the people, using their own judgment of me. My Father says, “What do you think of My Son?” Then the people answer Him with their blessings or cursings.

My trial and conviction had nothing to do with sex crimes. There were none, as you know. My trial had everything to do with “Son of God.” I was crucified for the very same reasons Jesus was. I was convicted for blasphemy, and that “You made yourself the Son of God.” The same people who crucified me would have also crucified Jesus. Those who rush to judgment against me would have also shouted, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” against Jesus. They say, “We have no king but the State.”

History has repeated itself, but few men take it to heart. As with Jesus, there are only a few who stand watching beneath my cross. Most are scattered. It is always the same, but few men take history’s lessons to heart. They kill Christ, and those in whom He dwells, thinking that they do God service, as did the DA. Those with the mark of the beast cannot help but come against our heavenly Father and His Son in every generation. Christ has appeared in accepting souls for generations, and He was in them, and the world crucified Him again. When Christ is crucified, few stand with Him. They have other things to do, like buy, sell, marry and give in marriage. They eat and drink, while the blood drains from the Sacrifice upon his cross. This is the nature of self-interest and self-absorption. But the Son of Man — Messiah, the crucified one — cannot turn from his purpose as others can. He must go forward, following his heavenly instructions. He is driven to keep his covenant with God and his people.

Martin Luther King had a cause. It cost him his life. He thought that he might not see his dream. Today, men put his name on a calendar; they have “Martin Luther King Day,” but they do not know what his message was. They don’t care what it was, but his message was strongly against American wars that are exported to other countries. Today, an African-American presides over one of those wars in Afghanistan. Men learn nothing from their heroes. Martin Luther King Jr. was not about getting African-Americans to be able to use white restrooms. What a disgusting cause that would have been! No; he protested the prejudice that deeply affected Americans against minorities. That same prejudice came against me and my own church. Religious prejudice in America is not dead. It lives. Small separatist congregations who have different beliefs than the mainstream churches are often attacked, charged with crimes, and persecuted because they are not part of the New Order. Martin Luther King Jr. hated this spirit in America. That spirit is what kept African-Americans out of white restrooms. It’s what has kept our church away from our freedom.

Jesus protested the oppression of his own generation. A few Jews, Pharisees and Sadducees, ruled over the consciences of the people. Their laws were strict, and impossible to keep perfectly. Jesus came to introduce the people to God for themselves. He made his followers the Sons of God. He brought his Anointing to them at Pentecost, so that religious fakes would not be ruling over them. He was first among many. I only appeared as the Son of God because He came into me, just as He does all believers. Those who charge me with the crime of being the Son of God, charge my Father with the crime of making Himself God.

The second coming of Christ is now, and in His people. His people receive the Spirit of God, which is the Anointing. It is Messiah. This is how Christ has always come the second time. And as you know, little children, this is the Day for this message to press home, for it is the anti-typical Day of Atonement, which ends in August of 2010. This is now the year of blessing. We are truly at the end of the age, the end of the world. The earth hates my message, and had to come against me because of it, hiding their jealous rage behind the facade of “sex crimes,” so that the people would not discover their deceit and underhanded tactics, in their crucifixion of me. The names and faces have changed, but the crucifixion of Christ is the same. What is my cross, other than bearing the hatred and prejudice of men? What is my cross, besides having to be separated from my loved ones, and missing the solitude of my heart in the wilderness?

I must protest this utter hypocrisy and prejudice, strongly expressed by the State of New Mexico and the United States. I must say to them, “This far, but no further.” The people are without excuse, because the Appeals Court knows the issues. I awaited the decision of the judges, who most certainly read and understood the issues of my bond appeal. Nothing was hidden from them.

Jesus protested man’s inhumanity to man. He protested the system that crushed out God from the soul. He gave his mission more than lip service; his death rent the vail of the temple, so that the people could see right into the Most Holy Place. No more would God be hidden behind a curtain, but the people themselves could now see into it. In my crucifixion, the temple in heaven is open, and the common man can now see into it again. God now appears in His people, as He appeared in Jesus. Satan comes hard against this message, for it causes him to lose control of them. But I have come to cast the dragon into the lake of fire. I have come to expose him. This sacrifice comes with a cost. I cannot protect myself, but must commit my life to it. I must sacrifice myself; more than just spending time behind razor wire, I must put my life on the line. Jesus had to do this, too.

There are many souls who protest against some injustice. We can see anti-war protests from time to time. American wars are legendary, as the beast rained down nuclear weapons of mass destruction upon the Japanese. The Vietnam war was a crisis of conscience. The wars against Iraq and Afghanistan are almost comical, when one hears the rhetoric and compares that with reality. The sane mind has no problem seeing world conquest for resources and power, hidden behind the mask of “anti-terrorism.” But how does one protest these things in a meaningful way? Walking down the street with signs makes no difference to them. No one cares about your flag or even your words. Protesters are only part of the fabric, and people get used to it. It gives the protesters a chance to make a noise, and mollify their consciences.

But what if protesting cost one his life? What if people refused to play with the beast, even to sacrifice their life in the process? This is the meaning of “Blessed are those who die in the Lord from now on.” Revelation 14:13. “Yes,” says the Spirit, “they will rest from their labor. What they have done will not be forgotten.” Why will it not be forgotten? It is because they gave up their life in their protest. No, this isn’t suicide I’m talking about. It is that they simply refuse to save their life and back away from their cause because their life is threatened. If they die in their cause, it will have an effect. They are blessed. This verse in Revelation comes directly before Christ comes in the clouds. This sacrifice is what brings Him to the harvest.

So now I bring up the crux of my own statements. It is the root of the tree. Few people actually care about what I say. Many just want me dead, just as they wanted Jesus dead. No; as with Jesus, I committed no crime, but they hate what I say. The DA was offended because I said that the world was evil. The beast does not actually care that I put my hand on a girl’s sternum to pray for her. Just look at the sternums visible on TV. Look at the movies, just packed with sex and violence, even with minors. No one takes those producers to prison for contributing to the delinquency of minors. No one charges them with felony sexual contact, which is clearly visible upon the screen. They call their sexual contact “freedom of speech.” They call my non-sexual contact a felony. Why? Because I said that I was one of God’s Sons.

Why is it that an abortionist is protected by law, but my method of prayer is not? An abortionist may put his tool in an underage girl’s sexual organ, but I cannot put my hand on a non-sexual bone. Hypocrisy. They are hypocrites.

Those who attack me, they hate my heart. I have exposed their nakedness, while they ran around telling everyone that they had clothes on. They say, “We don’t care what he did; kill him. Silence him, for he exposes our hidden agenda.” The DA believes that he is good, doing God’s work, just as did Ciaphas. The judges think that they are fair, just as did Pilate and Herod.

I keep undressing deception, and this is why I was put on trial. I made them angry and offended their self righteousness; this is why they want to kill me. They want in the worst way to make it appear that I am here for sex crimes. No, I will not let them get away with that. There were no sex crimes, but there were definitely crimes. These were State crimes, and the Appeals Court now has those crimes listed right before them.

The crimes in my trial were the same crimes that took place in the trial of Jesus Christ. His trial was illegal, as my trial was. The same offenses existed as in my trial. There were false charges, raised questions of suspicion, and secrecy. We shared with the media one hundred hours of information about us, but they finally published forty-eight minutes of fables, twisted logic, and spooky music. The media was effective in tainting the jury pool for one year before they were chosen to sit in my trial. In “Messiah on Trial” at least the basic issues were allowed to be shown. The witnesses stated that the crime I was charged with did not occur. The real issues have come to the light of day. In my trial, truth did not judge, but only offense and prejudice. But so far the sacrifice I have made is only my word. I have carried a sign, but no one pays attention to signs these days. I must now invest my life.

I am falsely held up to public scrutiny by the DA as a pedophile cult leader who makes himself God. They want my head on a pole, to scare other independent church leaders from any notions that they might separate their flocks from State interests. The judge said in my sentencing that he was sending a message to them. They want the image of the beast to be worshipped. “Wayne Bent” is deemed fair warning, along with other church leaders before me. Then the State puts me in its cage and feeds me as it would some beast in a zoo. They keep me alive so that I will be a continual warning to those who will not worship at the altar of State religion, which all mainline religions have accepted. But if they killed me, it would only contribute to church growth, since they would make me a martyr. If they killed me, it would have to be made to look like someone else did it, or that I committed suicide. These days, they don’t openly kill dissidents; they imprison them in penitentiaries, so that they might do penance and finally recant their separation from the State church and other social norms.

But I must protest. If the Appeals Court does not bring the truth to the light, I must take things to the next level. I owe it to God and to the people who have believed in me. I must be true to myself and put my life on the altar, along with everything else I have put there.

There is a basic incongruity in my mind, of me being falsely charged by liars and thieves, yet I accept food from them, so that I might go on living in their deception. I accept their food as if I am playing along with them in their unjust scheme against our congregation. None of my loved ones, my peers, have charged me with anything. My jury was never made up of my peers, but only those alien to the things of our family. If they truly knew the truth, they would not have convicted me. They think I need to be separated for life from my loved ones, because they say I might run right over and molest one of the children, if one might show up. Judge Baca said those very things at the sentencing hearing, when arguing against house arrest. They want to paint me as some ogre, drooling over the possibility of molesting kids. It did not matter that there was no evidence for this presented in court. There were no witnesses testifying that these things occurred. The people invented in me the monster of their own hearts.

So this is the issue. For me, taking food from criminals who put me here falsely, seems disingenuous. I cannot connect with this strange relationship. Should I accept food from my accusers, to extend my life and to cause them to feel that they are interested in my health and welfare, so I let them go on believing that they are doing us a favor? Should I play their game of deception with them, pretending to be a pedophile by accepting their sentence for that act? No, I don’t accept a sentence for a lie. Why should I pretend and fake, to be able to go on living? Should I pretend to be a turd so that I might go on living in their septic tank? Why would I want to live in a world of war-makers and assassins, since that is who has taken over our world? I am finished with it. The monsters who rule the world make the people pay for their crimes through taxation.

When I first came to Los Lunas, I entered into a fast for these very reasons. It was a religious protest against the lie put forth against us as a congregation, but against me in particular. I had determined that I would not eat again any food that the State provided. I had already publicly stated that I would not eat the food or drink the water of criminals who pretended to be righteous. I would not pretend with them. I would not pretend to be a pedophile for the media and the public rulers. But little lambs, you rushed to my aid, and that changed things. Jesus’ disciples ran from him, but you ran to me. Esther fasted from all food for a month, as you know, and Jeff launched an appeal. One of the officials here counseled me that “the wheels of justice turn slowly; give them time.” Because of these things, I stopped my fast in order to see if the State would repent of its crime of injustice and religious prejudice. I have been in prison now for nine months. It has taken this long for the Appeals Court to finally turn down my bond motion. There was no reason to deny the bond, except prejudice. I quietly waited for the verdict, and now I know how they view me. I believe and am committed to bringing these things to a resolution. I must “die in the Lord,” commit myself to the truth in a way that is not simply self serving. I must carry out my first announcement made many months ago.

When I was first taken to the Clayton jail over the DA’s false charge of sex crimes, I was astonished beyond comprehension. I have no words to fully describe the one who made these charges in the name of doing God’s work. I still am in a quandary over how a good Roman Catholic can conscientiously lie to get me convicted. Is this what the confessional is for? I wept bitterly in my cell because I could not comprehend that the public servants of the State would actually lie like he did. Why did not the State just accuse me for something that really happened — something that I actually did do? I refused to eat the jail’s food or to drink its water, pretending that these charges were true. No, I protested those lies presented by the district attorney. I will never accept them. Because of this, the jail allowed my family to feed me. On the third day, I ate a little food and drank some water. I was then released.

Later I was put in the new Clayton prison for twenty-one days, because I was too weak to attend a change of venue hearing some six hours round trip from home by car. I had been on a twenty-one day fast. I began eating after that, but the prison had me on a starvation diet; I received a few beans and a little bread. Much of the food was meat, which I do not eat, or cakes which were too high in sugar, and the sugar was affecting me mentally. I knew I would go to trial crazy without some real food. So I refused to eat unless I got real food from my family. My family was then permitted to bring in food for me. This quickly strengthened me, and I was prepared for trial. At each previous incarceration, I was fed by my family. I did not have to eat the food of the State, or drink its water.

I now find myself at a crossroads again. I am awaiting a promise of justice. I agreed to try giving them time to prove whether justice will prevail or the public lies, which were presented as fact, will prevail. I have not forgotten my promise of protest; I never gave it up or gave in to the State’s deception. I only waited. I went through a month’s starvation because Los Lunas would not provide for me what I eat. I nearly died after two months here. But food started coming then, plus a grain cereal which would boost my protein level enough to sustain me. Last month the prison cancelled my cereal, and my food trays are only periodically sufficient to sustain me. To me, though, this is a side issue. The great issue which I must protest is the State’s lie. The real issue is that I cannot fake being a pedophile so that some egocentric bureaucrats might glory in their flatulence over me.

I must now continue on with what I said that I would do months ago. I awaited the Appeals Court decision on a bond, so that I could get out and rest up and be strengthened. But it was denied. I now commit myself to the sacrifice, and to following my heavenly Father’s present instructions.

The DA asked the judge to give me fifteen years in prison for praying with my hand on the sternum of a sixteen-year-old girl. She came and requested to be naked in my presence, while she poured out her heart to me in regard to her normal teenage difficulties. The DA turned this spiritual act into a kind of molestation — touching the girl’s sexual parts. Since when is a sternum “sexual parts”? There is no State statute which declares it so. Look at all the sternums visible at the store. My attorney once had her sternum showing. This is common. No, it is not a sexual part. I believe the DA needs a lesson in anatomy.

I have prepared myself for this ultimate confrontation. I have prayed many hours about it. I have been instructed to proceed. This is a religious fast, and a deeply thought-through protest of the soul. I cannot just forgive and let pass what the State perpetrated against our church, even trying to get our girls to lie for them. Our little “Healed” was called a “bitch” by someone in the district attorney’s office because she would not lie for him. I have patiently waited for the very basic movements of justice to take its course, and to provide a simple bond for me. I wanted to test the system, since I was asked to do so. But my bond was refused, indicating prejudice instead of justice. I must proceed.

I must now refuse to take any sustenance from the State. I will eat none of their food, or drink none of their water. I will cut off this hypocrisy. I refuse to be the State’s “head on a pole.” I do not belong to the State, and no, I am not its property. I have a heart, soul, and mind that belong only to God. This will never change. I will eat only that food and drink that are brought to me by my family, as in the last two imprisonments, and for the same reasons. My family believes in me, and none of them lie and say I molested girls. Their food comes with love. I will no longer receive food from this false owner.

So what will happen if the prison refuses to let my family provide for me? I will die of starvation in this dirty old man’s house, who has molested me for nine months; and, I may die of dehydration, unless God Himself sends the delivering Angel to me. It will be up to the State whether I live or die, but I must be true to myself. It is up to my Father what my resolution will be. It is written of this moment, “Blessed are those believers who die in the Lord from now on.” Revelation 14:13. “Be faithful unto death, and you will receive a crown.” Revelation 2:10.

I have patiently waited for the “wheels of justice” to turn. The Appeals Court received abundant evidence so that the wheels could move quickly and efficiently. But I will not tolerate the lie to continue unopposed. My family may bring me distilled water from the store, which was allowed in Clayton’s two jails. They may purchase other foods for me, and I will eat them. This will help me to restore myself fully, while waiting for the final verdict of the Appeals Court. If this prison will not allow me to follow my God-given conscience in this matter, and my strong beliefs, then I hereby state that they may bury me at Strong City. We have a cemetery there for others of like faith. I must protest this evil, even if it costs me my life. My earthly life is not a large issue for me, but the truth is very much the issue. The DA was very loose with the truth, but I am not loose with it. I never lie. Millions of Christians have been killed through falsehoods; I am certainly not alone. I must look the beast right in the eye. The consequences of standing for the truth remain with God. I have no concern for what will happen to me.

Little family, my fast will begin, because my bond request was refused. The authorities are informed of my intentions. I told them I would make them aware of any changes in my situation. This letter to you has been provided to them so that they can dispense with a host of psychiatrists asking me what I am doing. They will know very well. And they also know just what to do about it.

So my fellow inmate says, “Just pretend, and you will get by. Fake it.” I will not pretend that we live in a free country with freedom of speech and freedom of religion. You are only free if you believe the socially accepted norms. I will not pretend that America is a noble country. I have seen its murders around the world. I’ve seen what its nobility is. I refuse to pretend that I’m a child molester, so that the State can use me as a poster child for pedophiles.

When they tried Jesus, he refused to speak with them. I have spoken to them, to leave them without excuse, but they continue their crimes anyway, for they are politically expedient. No one wants to lose their job over me, just as in the day of Jesus. Soon I will speak to them no more.

My fast will take the form of the Jubilee fast that I was given by my heavenly Father. The first seven days I will eat one meal a day. The next seven days I will drink only juice if the prison provides it. Otherwise, only water will be taken. The third seven days, only water; then nothing. None of this will hold, however, if you are permitted to bring food to me. I will not fast in that case. Little children, remember what you have been shown. I pray that you be One, as I and my Father are One.

Some of the mocking crowd have named my fast a suicide attempt. But they misperceive the issues, as they always do. They would have called Samson’s act of pulling down a heathen temple an act of suicide. But the book of Hebrews names Samson a man of faith. He brought down the heathen temple, but it cost him his life. In his death he destroyed more of the mocking revelers than in his life.

My fast was conceived in the beginning of my imprisonment. I have been incarcerated for about nine months now. Now it is time for the baby to be born. It is time for this Child to come out. The State has made great efforts to abort this Child, but all its efforts are acts of futility. The Father’s wrath has stirred this Child. Man has made fun of my Father’s “strange acts.” They have made His works into licentiousness. They have turned what was carefully designed by Him for the healing of two young people, into child sex. They turn sternums into sex objects, when they do not apply the same standard to themselves. They are hypocrites, all. God’s wrath is kindled, and the wrath of the Lamb is felt in me. I feel it in my deepest soul. The earth shakes, preparing for the great earthquake. I cannot contain this gigantic offense that heaven feels. The food that the beast hands me on its vile tray nauseates me. I want to vomit it out. My soul stirs within me, and I must pull down those heathen pillars, which are the lies that keep their temple standing.

Little children, I awakened before three this morning [August 23, 2009], and immediately the Father gave me a message. I had just dreamed that the earth was ruined. The ground was smoldering in a flooded soil. The ground was a smoldering forest fire, yet soaked with water, and there was no solid, dry ground to walk on. A soul would either burn himself or sink in the mud. The people were all gray, eyes joyless. They were all very thin, as though they were starving, yet they did not ask for food. They did not speak.

As I awakened from my dream, I knew immediately that the Father in heaven had placed a Child’s heart — His own Son’s heart — in myself; this was in 2000, and that this Child was to judge this earth — the condition of the earth that the dream represented. I saw that He sent a Child’s heart to judge. The Child-heart was what judged the world; if you turned a little child loose, how would they see the world? Not an old hardened adult.

This Child Michael was sent to test the people. He would take instructions only from the Father, and the people would be tested by his instructions, to see if they truly believed God or not. The church was tested first, and then the earth. The church’s righteousness was tested, and then the righteousness of earth was tested. The Child shared everything with the media that the Father had given him to do in the earth. Then the people of the land were tested by the courts. The Appeals Court was tested, and even those in the Child’s prison house at Los Lunas. Little children, they denied the Child, and the Child will now deny them before the Father.

As you know, with God, food is an act of communion. Eve was commanded not to eat of a certain tree, which represented communion with His adversary. It was a tree of doubt and suspicion. I will not be taking food from the State any longer, because I cannot profess communion with them. Their food is from the tree of doubt and suspicion, deception and lies, and I cannot commune with the wicked, and break bread with them, for they have proven themselves for who they are. This Child has tested them and found them unworthy.

No one on earth would take a meal with someone who they knew was molesting their child every night while they were sleeping. No, they would call the cops. They would not eat with them and have communion with them, and neither will I. I cannot in good conscience take food from the world that has fully proven it is molesting the Christ Child in me, and in my children.

The world’s trial of the Son of God has revealed to the Father that the earth can be released to destroy itself. As the angels went to Sodom, so the Child came to America. And in the system of “justice” in the country, I have not found one single worthy soul. I cannot break bread with them any longer. All trust in humanity has been dashed in the heart of this Child. I can now only take food from hearts of faith and trust. I can only commune with God and His children. This act is deeply rooted in my conscience and heart. It is not primarily that I will be entering into a fast; primarily what is happening is I am ceasing to take communion with the earth, because I would be professing to be in harmony with them.

I’m feeling God conscientiously saying, “I can’t eat with them anymore.” In other words, more than a fast, it’s “I’m not going to take communion with you.” It’s a conscientious thing; it isn’t a protest, it’s “I can’t conscientiously break bread with you.” And my food comes with suspicion and lies; I mean they hate sending me my vegetarian tray. And it was written in the Bible, where Paul told the people not to take communion with unbelievers or go eat with them, break bread with them; that’s the context. It’s like you’re actually partaking of their evil deeds by eating with them.

And so it came very clear to me that this just isn’t a protest fast; it’s a conscientious withdrawal from compromising myself to pretend I’m assimilating — in other words, that’s like taking communion; and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was taking communion with the adversary. And so I saw just real clearly that the fast — ceasing from taking communion with them, was absolutely God’s instructions.

Eating the food of somebody who molests you, is compromising yourself to survive, and this is intolerable for me. I will begin ceasing to take sustenance on August 31st. My ceasing to take communion with the monster who molested our church, will not be in secret. The whole world can watch me go. This could change, however if I were put in solitary or lock-up, and I would begin the complete fast immediately if I were locked away or tortured again.

I know your hearts are with me and you like to be with me where I am, but I’d like to do this alone. Please permit me to do this. The reason is that I do not want the State to come after you all and arrest you as they did Esther. I want the issue at hand to stay simple and clean. We all have experienced firsthand how the media likes to change the subject. The State likes to pretend the issues are other than what they are. Let us not allow them to change the subject. I know very well what the true issue is, and I will not be moved from it.

I’m 68 years old and I feel very complete about my life. God has been very close to me through my ordeal. My spirits are good, I am cheerful, thankful and blessed. My actions are, and will be, the actions of someone who protests injustice with his full mental faculties working. I am not insane or crazy enough to fall for their charges. I cannot be influenced to be persuaded into their pornographic society. I will not buy the lie and propaganda in regard to me.

We’re not in a friendly world to people of faith anymore. If it was ever friendly to people of faith, it’s not today. It’s a hostile world, very hostile. I love you all with all my whole heart, and I am intimate with the heart of truth. I love the truth and hate the lie. I think of you daily, and my thoughts continually go to those I love, and I always feel so close to those who love truth. Truth is our fresh air.

My heart will ever be with your heart, and if I go, I will surely come again. And I look each one of you in your eyes; I feel the beat of your hearts. My tears mingle with yours. I will never leave you alone. If I die by sight, you may know I have not actually died, for Jesus said that those who believe in Him never die. Do not look at your circumstances to judge God’s love for you. His love is greatest in times of persecution. The Father has not left you alone, and neither will I ever leave you alone.

Much Love,

Your Wayne Michael

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