Warning, novel ahead:
After a few months of lurking on this site, I've decided to take the plunge...I don't really care so much about introducing myself, but somehow there is some relief in the thought of getting my little story out there, just getting it out of my system. I am the oldest of 5 kids. I wasn't raised in any faith as a child and all I knew about "God" was that he liked to bowl sometimes and celebrated with lightning here on the earth (lol). But my alcoholic paternal grandmother used to always tell my siblings and I that if we ever had a nightmare, we should say the name Jehovah and everything would be fine. I didn't know what that meant at the time, and at this time I almost wish I would have found out a different way.
Anyhoo, after my sisters 7th birthday celebration, my mom announced that we weren't going to celebrate any more holidays. (I was mad, because this was in January and mine was soon to come in March and the reason behind it didn't make any sense to me whatsoever.) So, here we find out that we won't celebrate them because Dad wants us to practice his faith, which is totally based on the Bible. Apparently, in the Bible, the only mention of birthdays are terrible tragedies and true Christians did not celebrate them. I didn't even know what the Bible was, let alone Christians. The biggest challenge was wrapping my mind around what the heck a religion was and the fact that my dad had one and had kept it secret all this time.
Turns out, my dad was raised a JW and was disfellowshipped at the time. So, we all started going to this strange place called the Kingdom Hall. We're all new and confused, but I can't ask my Dad any questions because he can't talk to anyone about faith. We started studying the Bible as a family with the help of a pioneer sister out of the Knowledge Book. The book seemed silly to me. If we needed to learn about God, why didn't we just read the Bible. Wasn't everything we needed in there, anyway? Who wrote this book? Ok, too many questions...
We studied for a while and attended meetings and then eventually my dad was reinstated and we could all talk to him and everything was fine. Eventually my mom, sister, and I joined the TMS, and gave our first few talks. It was scary, but fun. We went in service once a week (with the pioneer who studied with us). I didn't really understand a lot of the things I was fed, but the right answer was always in the paragraphs, supported by a scripture that mentioned a few words of whatever topic was at hand. The ministry school always frustrated me. How can we give talks with biased information? At school I had to use multiple sources for reports, but here, I could only use what was provided. And what was provided was always the right answer. I think I was too afraid and maybe too young to really question further, but I went a long anyway. Insert circuit assemblies...
Now my dad has always been a confusing example. As our family head, he was supposed to take over our study, but normally, we just studied with mom while he was at work. She taught us all the books of the Bible and we competed to see who could memorize them correctly. She studied the Watchtower with us Saturday nights, even though most Sundays we didn't even make it on time to the meeting. Meanwhile, my dad continued as he always had, bouncing from job to job. One time we went for the Thursday night meeting and we were shocked to hear that my dad was disfellowshipped again! We went to a few meetings after that, but then we were told that were actually attending a congregation outside our assigned territory. (Only my dad was a JW at this time...)
Well, we didn't end up attending our proper location. We no longer had a study, but we still didn't celebrate holidays. At this point, we couldn't even afford it if we wanted to and we "knew better." Our pioneer sister stopped visiting, but was going to set us up with another couple in our proper congregation. This took a few years, apparently. Eventually, we studied again, but no one was as interested as before. It was just the Saturday morning routine. When we finished the book, the sister said she would stop by with magazines, but not study since there was no real effort being made to grow or attend meetings. She asked each of us to write a note if we wanted to continue our studies or not. I felt kind of bad, because she invested so much time in us and took an interest in our family as a stranger. I said yes. No one else did, though. My dad was still not really in the religious picture. So, I went on to study with her through the Worship Book. At this time, I was 12 going on 13. I began attending meetings. I joined the school. I became an unbaptized publisher. My mom had to go back to work after having her last child, but it was mostly thanks to my family head, who did not manage funds properly and provide for his household. Anyway, I kept with this and was baptized in 2006 (14). I relied on this pioneer couple to get to meetings and go in service. I auxiliary pioneered in months I had breaks from school.
All along I was told how well I was doing and that my great example would bring in my family. Well, at times it did. My mom and sister studied off and on for a few years and eventually, everyone attended again for a bit, even dad, long enough for him to be reinstated. My mom got baptized in my middle years of high school and I was so happy for once, because it seemed like everyone was united and things were going great. But, once again, my dad was left to handle things. Family study stopped. He was in and out of work. He was angry a lot. He was quick to tell us what we were doing wrong. We didn't have a car a lot of the time.
The brothers and sisters really helped us. They helped us get a van big enough for the whole family. Some brothers and sisters helped us when bills were due (but, shouldn't my father have been providing for us?). I remember, the older sisters would always discreetly give me a few dollars in their hand so I could eat while out in service. I used to try bringing lunches, because I never had money for food, but one sister scolded me and said I couldn't bring lunch bags inside the restaurant. I was embarrassed a lot because I was the poor, young sister. Young people used to invite me to gatherings because their mom's thought I was "good association" for them, but I was too spiritual to be with the in-crowd of teens. (Not much has changed there. All my friends are still much older than me, ha.)
I think my dad was disfellowshipped again, but I can't even remember anymore. All I know is everything has been on again, off again with my family. There have been alot of people who have helped. I was a lonely teen with no life. I went to meetings, in service, Bible study, and took care of my brothers and sisters while my parents worked. The few good friends I had from school, I cut contact with because I didn't want to negatively influence my good standing with Jah. This is going in a strange direction, isn't it? If anyone has read this far, I commend you! It's more an outpouring of emotion, I suppose. I have a lot of hurt. My mother's family is all Catholic. My worldly grandmother provided for my family more than my own father, who was supposed to be of true Christian faith. I know it's not our place to judge, but it always hurt to have to live and submit to such a hypocrytical man. He was terrible with money, unfaithful to my mother, and angry a lot. And yet all along, I wanted him to be proud of me. I tried to be the best I could be in this Christian faith and reflect good on him. I went preached where the need was great two summers (Kentucky, lol). I had a part on the DC giving an experience of how faithful I was, even when my father was disfellowshipped and none of my family attended with me, but when you have no other friends or place to fit in, what else can you do?
My relationship with Jehovah is much like my relationship with my father. I don't understand him at times, but I set a ridiculously high bar to reach to please him. I want to hear, "well done." I want him to love me and give me attention and be proud of me. In striving for perfection, every mistake hurt like the cut of a knife. I felt like I couldn't mess up, especially when so many in the congregation were looking up to me. Come graduation, the friends supported me and each gave me a small gift of money. I had great goals. I was going to continuous auxiliary pioneer while in community college, with the ultimate goal of entering the full time pioneer work soon after. I had a dream of being a missionary someday. My graduation money was needed by my family, however, and to make repairs on the lemon car my dad convinced a family member to buy for me.
My worldly grandmother died and it devastated me. I went to meetings, but I was numb. The resurrection hope was supposed to comfort me, but I cried fearing that since she died a staunch Catholic, that I wouldn't see her. I also felt guilty, as if I had never witnessed to her enough and the blood would be on my head. Eventually, I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't even attend college. A well-meaning sister wrote me a letter. She said she could think of 3 reasons why I might not be attending meetings and detailed each one with scriptures. (1, I was grieving the loss of my grandmother. 2, I was isolating myself. 3, I was hidng out of guilt of sin.) I thought it was meant to comfort me, but it felt like a slap in the face. It hurt even more when all I could think of was how much time she counted writing this 3 page letter to me. It didn't feel sincere. The part that hurt more was that it was true. I was grieving, I was isolating myself, and I was sinning by the contact I was having online with a worldly boy. I felt like the biggest failure to Jehovah. I was so exemplary and here I was corrupted. By this time, I was in a new territory and kind of fell through the cracks of my new congregation. I was so sad and lonely. I was told I only needed Jehovah, but I really wanted a mate. Pent up sexual frustration can definitely get the best of you. Another problem for me has always been my age. I don't relate well to people my age and I've always been drawn to an older crowd. Of course, no 35+ brother can seriously consider a teenage sister without some serious consequences, haha. Every brother I was ever interested in looked right past me because I was too young. And then I was too weak. And then I was not spiritual.
Here I am today, 23. Even as I've been inactive, I've kept up with the sites and the publications. I remember how disturbed I was when the Watchtower CD didn't have any old publications (I wish I would've kept all my paternal grandmother's books. She's a story on her own, but she cleaned up and has been active since my mom's baptism. She's also very extreme and schizophrenic.)
I've recently been in contact with old friends, but I'm living a life of sin (by the Bible's definition, not just JWs). I feel guilty, but I'm trying. I do have faith, but I am more closely bound to the Bible than the JW doctrine. Jesus told us everything we need to know and do. We don't recognize him enough as witnesses, in my opinion. There is a lot I am learning and have already learned, but wouldn't allow myself to acknowledge before. It breaks my heart to see people abandoning faith all together after bad experiences. As broken as I feel at times, I feel like my faith in God is all I have. I pray every day anyone suffering, regardless of faith, sexuality, or race. I pray for mercy. I apologize for selfishness whenever I pray for more time. I pray for His mercy as Abraham did, though I am nowhere in as good standing as he was. My faith has been a rollercoaster ride. None of my family is practicing any faith right now. I'm not saying this to say I am better than anyone for praying or maintaining some sort of spirituality, only that I do believe there is some good in it all.
I don't know where I'm going. I've been urged to come to the convention, but I have a fear that it is not the right place for me. I run into many witnesses at my job, but I also run into other ministers and find pamphlets from other churches. We can't all be right, but we can't all be wrong, can we? Every faith has people who are totally sincere in their efforts. No one imperfect can worship perfectly. But, that has been the most difficult task for me. I was a part of a faith where not only are you to be constantly checking yourself, but you have everyone else checking and being stumbled by you as well. It becomes burdensome. I am so sorry for how long this is. This is barely the tip of the iceberg, really. I have so much in me, but I just need to let some of it out!! I'm not totally miserable and depressed. Actually, I've felt a bit of relief being away a while. I've found an old "worldly" man who isn't too good for a young-in (ha) and though we aren't married, we're sort of happily fumbling along here! Thank you to anyone who takes the time to get to know a lil of me,H