Somewhere along 1992, 1993, 1994-- somewhere in there-- I was going through some personal shit.
What I thought would be my one-and-only marriage was pretty much coming to its end and, because of tales my first wife had put in the wind (to cover her own tail/tale), rumors were swirling all around me. I've never felt as lost as I felt at that point in my life. Luckily, I found my bearings. And didn't end it all.
It was an early Saturday (or was it Sunday?) morning. The assembly center was just coming to life. As had been my custom since my youth, I got there early. And to my astonishment, I found Betty Johnson...
Betty was not and never will be anything like your average JW. Simply put: she was smart. She had a brain, a brain constructed well outside and before being introduced to the JW milieu. Very much like her brother John, who lives in Dallas. Great, great people.
I quite bluntly (and on purpose... to get a rise) asked Betty: "So... what's the gossip? What are they saying about me?"
She was stunned... absolutely non-plussed... not expecting a teejay style out-of-the-blue bluntness as profound as the one I put on her. I'd hoped to blind-side one of the remaining friends I felt I had. Ultimately, I was right! I got a rise out of Betty J.
"Go ahead," I said, noting her reaction. "What's the skinny? I can handle it."
Despite the "worldly" part of her brain put there by her "worldly" dad, Betty knew the JW game. As the milliseconds passed, I could see her mind working, spread all over her face. She'd sized up her antagonist and wanted to give the perfect response, so as not to "discourage" me. I'll never forget her answer...
Her first words, verbatim, were: "You can handle the truth better than I can."
I smiled. Inside and out. Damn skippy!
I'm not afraid of the truth. My Mama taught me that. Real truth. Just let me have it. In the gut. In the shin. In the face. In the back. However. Just let me have it. Please.