I was a dub for 45 years, never doubting, but having little nagging thoughts, that I would "put on the shelf". The thing that made the shelf start to fall down, was the book study in the Greatest Man Book. My husband was the conductor. In the prodigal son story, it became clear to me that the father who accepted his wayward son, was in the right, and the other son, who didn't approve of his father's acceptance, was wrong. To me, the JW's were like the brother, not the father. Then the study about sin and how a sinner was to be treated like a man of the nations or as a tax collector. I asked my husband and myself "do we treat a disfellowshipped person as the Pharisees did, or as Jesus did?" It all started to fall apart after that. My husband was way ahead of me, though, as regular readers here, know.
Posts by Mulan
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46What Caused Your First Doubt ?
by Big Jim infor me it was when i was about twelve years old and my best friends dad was disfellowshipped from the congregation.. i could not understand how a god of love would treat someone so coldly.. i used to think what if that was the way my parents would treat me if i had done something wrong, that would be so hard and cruel.. as i got older another thing that bothered me was the beard issue.
it may sound pretty trivial however the society has always refused to make a good arguement as to why they would give you the old cold shoulder if you were to grow one.. two more items; first i could not understand why all the congregations and all the assemblys would give income reports.
and the society never did.
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the 'birdies'
by Mulan in" "the birdies?
"one of the birdies came and got you.
"what did the birdies look like?
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Mulan
Now, that is a good point. <<You may not realize it, but those 'stories" are the one commonality every person who reads this board has. Most of us were fed "stories" as the "truth" since we were little babies. >>
I totally agree with you. I should have made it clear that I was not sure as to how true it was. When I said it didn't happen to me, I didn't want people to start reading it and think I was the one telling the story. Anyway, you made your point. By the way, I totally thought the Fargo story was true, up until that phrase came on the screen, at the end. So much for my gullibility, eh?
Mulan/Marilyn -
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Survey
by Vienna inhow many on this board are: a) christains--not a jw b) jehovah's witnesses c) do not believe in god d) have a belief in god but just not active in anything right now.
i'm new to the board and was curious as to everyone's standing.
i'm 30, a christain, i left the jws 3 years ago (after being in it for 21 years) to follow jesus and heard of, among other good things, this great thing called: grace!
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Mulan
I am an ex dub. Not in any religion. I think I believe in God, but not the Jehovah of the JW's. That is not a God I want in my belief system. Still trying to gain back my spirituality, if I ever had it.
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the 'birdies'
by Mulan in" "the birdies?
"one of the birdies came and got you.
"what did the birdies look like?
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Mulan
Did you ever see the movie Fargo? It starts with a screen saying "this is a true story". Then it ends, saying "the story you have just seen, is fiction." Or something like that. It grips you, and then tells you the truth. I would think people would realize a 3 year old does not have command of the language that is given to this little boy.
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the 'birdies'
by Mulan in" "the birdies?
"one of the birdies came and got you.
"what did the birdies look like?
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Mulan
Lighten up, six. It's just a story. Don't get so upset over a little thing like this.
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the 'birdies'
by Mulan in" "the birdies?
"one of the birdies came and got you.
"what did the birdies look like?
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Mulan
Oh, you are such a skeptic!!! Don't you think I thought of that too?? I have three year old grandkids, and don't think they could tell this elaborate of a story, and one of them is gifted!! I'm quite sure a talented writer wrote it, but I just thought it was a neat story!!
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Further adventures with Mom
by Mulan inyesterday my brother came to visit for the day, so we could visit our stepfather in the nursing home, and our cousin in the hospital, and we went to lunch, and came back to my house, picked up our 87 year old father, who lives with me, and went to visit our 88 year old mother, dad's ex-wife.
they get along great......now!!
all of us are ex dubs, (not mom) and brother dear is df'd, but only for 23 years, ha hahahaha.
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Mulan
It helps to know that my mother isn't the only one like this. My youngest son pointed out to me later that day, that when he or his girlfriend start saying anything to me about their church, that I freeze up too, so it was a lesson to me not to do that to them. I would usually tell them that I just don't believe what they do, and try to change the subject. Grrrr. I just hate that. I don't want to be like her. But it's in the genes, I guess. Honestly though, it isn't fear that motivates my saying that, but irritation, at my son's getting swallowed into a religion so fast after leaving the Borg. To me, it's just all the same thing, but to them it is very much NOT the same thing. Oh well. Life goes on. I don't make it unpleasant for them, but I do make it clear that I give my son the freedom to believe whatever he wants to, and if it works for him, I am happy for him. Just don't try to make me feel that my eternal salvation depends on MY doing what they are doing, and believing what they believe. I am just so turned off by any religion.
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the 'birdies'
by Mulan in" "the birdies?
"one of the birdies came and got you.
"what did the birdies look like?
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Mulan
This is a great, heart warming story, I wanted to share with everyone. It didn't happen to me, but was emailed to me.
On July 22nd I was en route to Washington, DC for a business trip. It
was all so very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change. As
I collected my belongings from the overhead bin, an announcement was made
for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative
immediately. I thought nothing of it until I reached the door to leave the plane, and I heard a gentleman asking every male if they were Mr.Glenn. At this point I knew something was wrong
and my heart sunk.When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me and
said, Mr. Glenn, there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the
emergency is, or who is involved, but I will take you to the phone so you
can call the hospital." My heart was now pounding, but the will to be
calm took over. Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant telephone
where I called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital. My call was
put through to the trauma center where I learned that my three-year-old son
had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes,
and that when my wife had found him he was dead. CPR had been performed
by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics had continued the
treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital. By the time of my call, Brian
was revived and they believed he would live, but they did not know how much
damage had been done to his brain, nor to his heart. They explained that the door
had completely closed on his little sternum right over his heart. He had been severely
crushed. After speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical,
and I took comfort in her calmness. The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I
arrived at the hospital six hours after the garage door had come down When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me to see my little son laying so
still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere. He was on a respirator. I glanced
at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream.
I was filled-in with the details and given a guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was OK, two miracles in and of themselves. But only time would tell if his brain received any damage. Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife
was calm. She felt that Brian would eventually be all right. I hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline.
All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day before. Finally at two o'clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken. He said, "Daddy hold me" and he reached for me with his little arms. By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological
or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine when we took Brian home, we felt a unique reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who brush death so closely. In the days that followed there
was a special spirit about our home. Our two older children were much closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other, and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more focused, and balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound. The story is not over (smile)!
Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his afternoon nap and said, "Sit down Mommy. I have something to tell you." At this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed, and he
began his sacred and remarkable story. "Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well, it was so heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to you, but you couldn't hear me. I started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And then the 'birdies' came." "The birdies?" my wife asked puzzled. "Yes," he replied. "The birdies made a whooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took care of me." "They did?" "Yes," he said. "one of the birdies came and got you. She came to tell you I got stuck under the door." A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three-year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came to him from beyond as "birdies" because they were up in the air like birds that fly. "What did the birdies look like?" she asked. Brian answered, "They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white, all white. Some of them had green and white. But some of them had on just white."
"Did they say anything?" "Yes," he answered. "They told me the baby would be all right." "The baby?" my wife asked confused. Brian answered. "The baby laying on the garage floor."
He went on, You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not leave." My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed gone and knelt beside Brian's body and seeing his crushed chest whispered, "Don't leave us Brian, please stay if you can." As she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left
his body and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form."Then what happened?" she asked. "We went on a trip." he said, "Far, far away." He grew agitated trying to say the things he didn't seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let him know it would be okay. He struggled with wanting to tell something that obviously was
very important to him, but finding the words was difficult. "We flew so fast up in the air. They're so pretty Mommy," he added. "And there are lots and lots of birdies." My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped her more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known. Brian went on to tell her that the "birdies" had told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the "birdies."He said they brought him back to the house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance were there. A man was bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man that the baby would be okay, but the man couldn't hear him. He said the birdies told him he had to go with the ambulance, but they would be near him. He said they were so pretty and so peaceful, and he didn't want to come back. Then the bright light came. He said that the light was so bright and so warm, and he loved the bright
light so much. Someone was in the bright light and put their arms around him, and told him, "I love you but you have to go back. You have to play baseball, and tell everyone about the birdies. "Then the person in the bright light kissed him and waved bye-bye. Then whoosh, the big sound came and they went into the clouds. The story went on for an hour. He taught us that "birdies" were always with us, but we don't see them because we look with our eyes and we don't hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always there, you only see them in here (he put his hand over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is right because they love us so much. Brian continued, stating, "I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all have a plan and live to keep our promises. The birdies help us to do that cause they love us so much." In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part of it, again and again. Always the story remained the same. The details were never changed or out of order. A few times he added further bits of information and clarified the message he had already delivered. It never ceased to amaze us how he could tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he talked about his birdies. Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the "birdies." Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather, they always got a softened look on their face and smiled.
Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be. An Angel To Watch over You Some people come into our lives and quickly go... Some people become friends and stay a while...Leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts and we are never quite the same
because we have made a good friend!!
Yesterday is history?? Tomorrow a mystery?? Today is a gift?? That's why it's called the present! Live and savor every moment...this is not a dress rehearsal! -
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Biology Lesson for the guys
by wasasister inwarning: i am about to discuss a rather delicate subject.
if the words menstruation or period gross you out, please stop reading now.. i am going to attempt to keep names out of this discussion, as my thoughts are directed to the general population, not one individual.
i am fairly certain, however, that someone may take this personally and react with anger and insults.
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Mulan
Hey sis......very well said. I am past that time of my life, thank GOD!! I also breezed through all those months, since I was 13, for the most part. But, my husband and my sons would never fail to call me the 'once a month witch', if I ever lost my temper, or corrected the boys, or raised my voice. It was REALLY infuriating when they were right. And of course, they knew ahead of time when they were right. Many men automatically discount our feelings as being hormonally caused. Not nice, not respectful in any way. I appreciate your comments very much.
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Further adventures with Mom
by Mulan inyesterday my brother came to visit for the day, so we could visit our stepfather in the nursing home, and our cousin in the hospital, and we went to lunch, and came back to my house, picked up our 87 year old father, who lives with me, and went to visit our 88 year old mother, dad's ex-wife.
they get along great......now!!
all of us are ex dubs, (not mom) and brother dear is df'd, but only for 23 years, ha hahahaha.
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Mulan
Yesterday my brother came to visit for the day, so we could visit our stepfather in the nursing home, and our cousin in the hospital, and we went to lunch, and came back to my house, picked up our 87 year old father, who lives with me, and went to visit our 88 year old mother, Dad's ex-wife. They get along great......now!! All of us are ex dubs, (NOT MOM) and brother dear is df'd, but only for 23 years, ha hahahaha. After we were there a short time, he started talking about the trauma he went through when his wife died in 1977, and how he hated it when the dubs talked about the resurrection, and how that was NO comfort at all. I agreed with him, and said that was something I could never understand, since they leave such a gap in your life, and the resurrection was so far off. All of us were loyal dubs in those days. Mom put her fingers in her ears.........we were so shocked, and started laughing. She got mad, thinking we were having fun at her expense. So we backed off. But, it's hard to NOT talk about the stuff I read on this board, and all the inside things I have come to know. At one point she said she only believes what is in the Bible, and not what men say, so brother asked "where is it in the Bible that it says you can't offer me a cup of coffee or make me a sandwich when I come to visit you." She got up and asked if he wanted anything now. He declined but told her that was the first time in 23 years she had offered him anything. It got worse. My brother asked me how the pedophile issue was coming along, and she freaked again. Then they started talking about a radio show Mom and brother listen to late night, (seemed a safe subject) and how weird it is (Art Bell). It was fine, until I told about a great little story I had gotten in an email yesterday, about a little boy (3 years old), who literally died in an accident and was brought back by the paramedics. He told his parents about the "birdies" that came and made him feel better, and how they were white and warm, etc., and told him he had to go back now and tell everyone about the birdies. (I posted this story on this board too, called 'the birdies') It was just a neat little story, but Mom got up and left the room. Again, we laughed. She came back and asked if we were through talking about that subject. It went on like that for about 20 minutes, with us talking about all kinds of things, and she went into her bedroom again, one last time, so my Dad said "let's go". And we did. Does anyone else have a parent like this? My brother and I feel so handicapped in talking to her. I called her after I got home, and told her it seems like children should be able to talk to their mother about anything that concerns them or is of interest to them. She hung up on me. Oh well, she got her check from us last week, (we help to support her) so she can play this game for another month.