By Mike Blackwell

Jimmy held a secret, a secret kept safely and harmlessly away from his wife, his parents, his children.

Jimmy's childhood was more common than most would care to admit. His father, harsh and distant, was an alcoholic who spent most of his time drinking or working. His mother spent her time taking care of his father. Like most boys in Texas in the early 1970s, Jimmy loved the Dallas Cowboys. But unlike most boys, Jimmy was not allowed to spend his time worrying only about the baseball cards stuck in the spokes of his bicycle.

Jimmy was first sexually abused when he was eight years of age, by an older neighborhood boy. Jimmy did not know it at the time, but the isolated incident would become steady abuse when he reached the age of 12. This time, the abuser was a young coach at his junior high school. The coach provided Jimmy with the male role model, a man who would take him places and spend time with him. He gave him time and affection; in return, he took Jimmy's childhood.

Outwardly, 20 years after the abuse, Jimmy's life seemed idyllic; he had a loving, beautiful wife and two children as perfect as children can be. Inside, though, Jimmy needed relief. His relationships with his wife and 11-year-old daughter were outwardly solid, yet void of any real emotion. Sadly, his relationship with his 7-year-old son was confrontational and bondless.

This was a family in love, but also a family in trouble. In search of peace, his wife Michelle sought counseling with Linda Harriss of Brownwood's Harriss Center for Counseling. The counseling involved not only Michelle, but also their son, Jake.

"Jake seemed angry at school and at home," said Michelle, crying at the memory. "He was six then, and I really wanted to know why my son and my husband just weren't connecting."

During the course of the counseling, Harriss asked Michelle to leave the room. At Harriss' request, Jake began to express his thoughts through drawing. His drawings painted the clear picture of a struggling, searching, hurting family.

"He drew me, his sister and then his dad," says Michelle slowly. "Linda asked him to describe all of us, and he described me and his sister as happy, and then described himself as happy, sad and angry. Then he described his daddy as mad and angry. When Linda asked him what hurt about his daddy being mad, he circled his heart and his head."

Ultimately, it was his son's pain that helped Jimmy release his own hurt. Jimmy and Michelle began seeing Linda, trying to solve the problems in their home. During one of the sessions, Jimmy revealed the secret that has tormented him for over 20 years.

"He was giving a lot of simple, blunt answers to the questions Linda was asking him," Michelle says. "She asked him if he had been emotionally abused, and he said 'yes.' then she asked him if he had ever been sexually abused, and he said, 'which time?'"

The revelation startled Michelle, whose marriage to Jimmy was by then 14 years old. She was shocked, and became angry at both Jimmy for keeping the knowledge silent and at those who hurt him and those who failed to protect him in his youth. But while Jimmy did not know if revealing his secret would be one of significance, his wife felt a tremendous sense of relief, love and hope.

"To me, that meant he had finally opened up and let me in; the walls were finally down, and I could be a part of him," Michelle says. "I felt like we were finally the way God intended for us to be, one flesh."

Though Jimmy did not see the immediate, positive result of revealing his lifelong secret, eventually he saw how much more positive, and intimate, his relationships became. In addition, though Jimmy was already a Christian, his spiritual life seemed stronger as well. After years of darkness, one small sentence of honesty had thrust him into life's sunlight. The truth had indeed set him free.

"I'm more at peace with myself," says Jimmy, "and it effects my relationships with everybody around me. God's at work, and because of God's work, I have found the courage to heal, and because of a loving wife and Linda, I have found a starting place in my life."

That starting place includes a new effort by Jimmy to reach out to those around him, and to try and keep the tragic events of his past from happening to others. Both children and parents can and should learn from this hardworking man who is now anxious to tell his story.

"I was probably easily intimidated," Jimmy says. "I didn't have a male role model, and I think the person who did this to me saw that something was missing in my life. The tradeoff for the abuse was that we would get to do these fun things, and he would take me places. With children, it's easy to be overpowered by somebody, not just physically, but also mentally."

Jimmy says his experience has given him valuable knowledge he can now pass along not only to his children, but to others as well. Before he revealed his secret, he wasn't sure the abuse served a purpose at all. Now he realizes how many lives he can touch, and he even spoke in front of a huge crowd at the governor's Conference on Child Abuse in January. He's eager to talk about the subject that once was buried in his soul.

"I was spending an enormous amount of time with this guy," Jimmy says. "If this has taught me anything, it's that you should know where your kids are at all times."

Jimmy's transformation has allowed him to share with others his pain, and his progress. For Michelle and the children, it's as if the husband and father has been reborn.

"He's much more compassionate now," Michelle says. "He works harder on his relationships now. And he used to get mad and have rages, but those aren't here anymore."

The rages, most probably fueled by the angry secret he kept inside, have been replaced by the subtle love of a man playing catch in the yard with his son. And instead of silence, there is now a soft-spoken man able, and most importantly willing, to tell his amazing story.

"Now I feel like I have to tell people about my experiences," says Jimmy, sitting close to his wife. "If I'm in a position to help people and don't, then this has happened for nothing.

"Maybe I can use what has happened to me as a blessing to others. Easter Sunday represent Christ's victory over death. Christ brought victory over the death that had occurred in me, along with the blessings of a loving wife and children, a caring counselor and freedom from the anger that had nearly destroyed me from within."