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No one can be Happy Outside Jehovah's Organization

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Date Created:01 Sep 2014

Last Modified:01 Sep 2014

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Before I left the organization of Jehovah’s Witnesses, the
greatest enigma was: “When someone leaves the organization, can they really be
happy?”



In fact, a close friend of mine by then, Danstan Chiposa,
one of the elders in the judicial committee that saw me disassociating myself,
once said:



“I would love to hear a former Jehovah’s Witness say that
they are really happy out there; outside the organization.”



The irony in this statement is that they really do not
listen to us; since we essentially cease existing to them. But I hope that some
of them will listen when I tell them that I am a thousand percent happier now
than I was then as a Witness.



This may be hard for some of you to believe. But looking
through my diaries that I extensively kept as a Witness, I am reminded of the
severe disorientation and depression that I went through trying to prove myself
worthy of salvation through works such as preaching.



What follows is an extract from my book ‘The Messenger’,
which is a documentary of my life as a Jehovah’s Witness. Take care to observe
how broken and miserable I was. Some of my friends who associated with me then
can testify to this fact.






“Things
have become peculiar in my life… I do not understand them myself but I can’t
help but blame myself. My body is here, but my soul is far away. It is not
here. It is painful. It’s like I am not here, but controlling my body with a
remote control.



It
was around 3pm. The meetings were going to start at 4pm. Luis, Solomon and John
were preparing to go for the meetings. John was on Peter’s computer (Peter was
a friend of Charles who stayed a few rooms away and occasionally paid them
visits), and Charles was on Luis’ computer. Luis actually wondered whether he
could really call it his computer, because Charles, who did not have as busy a
schedule as Luis did, spent most of the hours of the day on it.



It
was at this particular point when they were contemplating the possibility of
starting off that the rain came down in sheets.



“Wow,”
John said with a giggle, “we cannot go in this rain.”



“Apparently
not,” Luis thought. He could not bear the thought of being late; it was worse
than earning Nancy’s contempt. He did have quite a good idea, however. He could
simply walk in the rain. Yeah, that is what he was going to rain. He wanted to
be soaked to the bone. As he stared at the heavily pouring rain, his desire got
more and more intense. If he walked in the rain, he figured, he could cry his
lungs out, and no one would know because the rain would wash away all his
tears.



Just
before he could execute this evil scheme of his, however, Tim, the very
innovative brother, came up with a solution.



“We’ve
arranged some transport.”



This
revelation made Luis wince. He had so much desired to get all wet, and he had
wanted to cry in the rain, so that the rain could wash away all his tears. Yes,
he often felt like crying nowadays, but no one seemed to notice, nor care, or
almost no one.



After
the meetings, Luis was not feeling any better. He found himself walking
alongside Brandon and another brother. Brandon
had engaged the other brother in a rather profitable conversation. Luis, on the
other hand, was engrossed in his own thoughts—terrible thoughts of how
miserable he was—and had no desire to talk. Judith, who was all gregarious as
usual, just happened to catch up with them. She was with Ellis. She greeted
them merrily, but Luis answered in a low, unenthusiastic tone. Instantly, she
knew that something was up with him. She quickly grasped his hand and pulled
him along. They left Brandon
behind, and walked the three of them.



“How
are you?” Judith asked Luis, still grasping his hand.



“Fine,”
he lied. He did sound awfully low, and anyone who knew him could tell that he
was not himself, and that dark thoughts were dominating his mind. Ellis
chuckled to himself, and hardly said much. He seemed amused and perhaps a
little jealous by Judith’s intense affection for Luis. At first, he had enjoyed all the attention,
but now it was diverted to Luis, and he was hardly saying anything.



“How
are you, really?” she asked again.



“I’m
fine,” Luis repeated, but by now, he was almost bursting into tears, but being
the man he was, he held the tears back. By now, Judith, who seemed to know how
to get to his heart, had very nearly made him crack. She seemed to see through
all his pretence, like a mother would see through the pretence of a child who
claimed there was nothing wrong when tears were visibly streaking down his
face.



“How
is school?” she asked.



“Hard,”
Luis admitted, “quite hard.”



“You
know what?” she began, smiling broadly, “I am working hard so that I can be
with you next year.”



Luis
was amazed. He stared back at her speechlessly, and he knew that she really
meant what she said. An acute sense of guilt came over him, because he knew
that he was not putting in any effort whatsoever in his school work, and that
he did not really want to return.





Apart
from the blues he felt, he was contending with paranoia. There were times he
assumed that the whole world hated him, and there were times he assumed that
even Mary, Judith and Nancy
hated him. Feeling unworthy of love and life, he resorted to squatting in the
proverbial corner, starting at the world around him like a bird in a cage.





~



Yes,
the days slowly wore on, and the convention was over, and Luis’ depression
intensified. And as the days wore drearily on, it became mingled with paranoia
and disillusionment; soon, he began to think life was only made up of
sentiment, and that the whole damned world had lost its reason ages ago. He
soon began to imagine that he could never be happy, and that even in God’s new
world he could not. In time, he began to hate himself so much that he could not
stand himself at all.



The
worst part, I reckon is that he began to imagine that nobody cared an ounce
about him. In his wildest imaginations he reckoned that everyone only cared
about themselves and it did not bother them at all to learn that he on the
verge of despair.



Yes,
as the days wore on, Luis’ depression intensified. It intensified to so great
an extent that one night, after everyone had gone to sleep, he stared at the
knife with its shiny, sharp blade quite longingly. With a yearning that he
could not fully understand, he imagined the knife piercing his belly and ending
it all. So great was his pain that he actually desired to demise.



Yes,
as the days wore on, Luis reached a point where he had to admit defeat: he had
failed to put spiritual things first. He was nothing but a failure. He was no
superhuman; he was just a helpless sinner. Nothing was going to save him now,
nothing save a miracle….



Yes, the days wore treacherously on, and eventually, the
term came to an end, and Luis, our hero, almost ended with it.






That was then. I have never been through darker times than
those days. Even if I put on a smile outward, my misery was eating me away. It
is testimony of the fact that making people think they can earn salvation by
performing certain works is the greatest folly ever.



Now, I have come to learn that we are served through faith
in Christ Jesus; and that no amount of work can make us come even closer to
salvation—just his grace. And only his grace.
And that puts a smile of my face.


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