I had an email in which a young man, age 19, said he had "done things" with his Sunday school teacher for four years. "He bought me things and took me places."
The boy's parents were both "drunks and pill poppers" who "didn't know I existed unless one of them needed me to grab a cold one from the refrigerator."
He went on to say that the teacher promised, "I'll take care of you. You can't live with me because you're a minor but when you're older we can live together and I'll take care of you."
After a few more details the boy added, "Just before my 18th birthday I asked him about moving in. He said he couldn't do that. He wanted to but he couldn't."
He told me about his agony and feelings of rejection, especially when the teacher began to make excuses for not getting with him regularly.
"It was all a lie. I reminded him of his promise and he cussed me out and told me I was evil and that he had tried to help me but he had failed."
The young man had attempted suicide once and had undergone psychiatric treatment for depression.
He has emailed me three times, so that encourages me to believe that something positive is going on. He also reads my blog (which is why he contacted me). "You can use my story," he said in his last email, "but you can't give my name."
I wish his story had a happy ending.
Maybe one day it will.