Warrain
Disciple of Prayer
I only needed two more classes to graduate from FMHS, and I would have finished in December 1997. But just a few days into my senior year, everything changed. My parents, who were devout Christians, were devastated by the choices I’d made, and out of their disappointment—and perhaps embarrassment—they sent me away to a place called the Lord’s Ranch in Arkansas. I was 18, legally an adult, but I felt powerless to refuse them in that moment. I ended up spending about nine months at the Lord’s Ranch, though the exact timeline is blurry because I’ve blocked out much of that period. After everything that happened there, it’s difficult for me to think about, let alone remember clearly. While there, I completed my last two high school classes, earned my diploma, and even took the ACT, scoring a 26. That score, along with my GPA, helped me get accepted to Williams Baptist University (WBU) on a scholarship. I began attending WBU in the summer of 1999, mainly as a way to escape the Ranch and all the trauma associated with it. One problem that haunts me to this day is that I’ve never been able to get a copy of my high school transcript. The Lord’s Ranch was shut down sometime around 2016 due to a slew of allegations—corruption, fraud, and much worse. I reached out to WBU to see if they still had a copy of my transcript, but unfortunately, they don’t keep those records anymore. I do, however, have a letter from Tracy confirming that I graduated high school and attended WBU, which I can provide for verification if needed. I did graduate high school—just not from FMHS—and I’ve kept this hidden for so long because I know how it all looks on paper. The questions, the shame, the emotional turmoil that comes up every time I think about that awful place—it’s overwhelming. I fear people will assume I’m either unstable or a bad person, but that’s not the truth. Still, the stigma is real, and it’s affected me deeply. Fast forward to May 2023—I lost my job when my company outsourced my entire department. I applied everywhere, went through countless interviews, and finally received an offer from a company that not only pays well but also offers plenty of room for growth. Since I work in payroll, they required a background check for confidentiality reasons. This is where I made the biggest mistake of my life. Because of the stigma associated with the Lord’s Ranch and the fact that I can’t get a transcript, I panicked. When I filled out the background check form, I lied and said I graduated from FMHS instead of the Ranch. When they asked for a transcript, I sent one that didn’t have a graduation date, because, of course, I didn’t actually graduate from FMHS. They then asked for a copy of my high school diploma. At this point, my fear and embarrassment took over, and I made another poor decision. I paid $79 for a fake diploma, even though deep down, I knew it wouldn’t work. The guilt was eating me alive, and the next morning, I decided to come clean. I reached out to my recruiter and confessed everything—what I’d done, why I did it, and where I had actually graduated from. I was completely honest and transparent, taking full responsibility for my actions. Now, I’m supposed to start the job on Monday, but I haven’t heard back from the company about whether I passed the background check. The silence is agonizing, and I’m panicking. I’m terrified I’ll lose this job, even though I’ve come forward and admitted my mistakes. I know I did something wrong, but I’m hoping they’ll show me some mercy and still allow me to start on Monday. I don’t feel like I deserve forgiveness, but I’m praying for a miracle. I desperately need this job, and I hope the company can see that I’m owning up to my mistakes and trying to make things right.