When I was growing up, I attended meetings at the Kingdom Hall, as well as those long summer conventions that lasted up to four days. I was also forced to go door-to-door to spread the "good news."
by Kelly Mackenzie
|
|
I came from a very dysfunctional and abusive family. The youngest
of five, I have three brothers and one sister. My mother had been raised
Catholic and my father came from a Methodist and Baptist background. His
family had become Jehovah's Witnesses in 1948, but he really didn't become
an active Witness until I was two years old. My mother became a Witness some
time later in my life.
When I was growing up, I attended meetings at the Kingdom Hall, as well as those long summer conventions that lasted up to four days. I was also forced to go door-to-door to spread the "good news." |
I never enjoyed going out in service. I felt embarrassed; I didn't want anyone from school to see me. We weren't allowed to celebrate holidays such as Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter because we were told they were pagan. But oddly enough, we would go to my grandmother's house every Christmas and receive gifts. But I was only allowed to receive gifts, not give them, and I was never allowed to receive gifts from my friends at school. That was very confusing and inconsistent for me. I couldn't understand why we were so unhappy if we were in "the truth."
I was the only Witness in school and I was miserable. I wasn't supposed to socialize with any "worldly" friends, and I was allowed to play with my neighbors as long as I didn't go anywhere with them. I played in the marching band at school, but I wasn't allowed to march. Of course, I couldn't pledge allegiance to the flag either. On top of all of this, I was being physically, emotionally, and sexually abused by my father-who acted like a wonderful Witness to everyone when he was outside of the home. Unfortunately, since I was never allowed to spend time at anyone's house, I didn't even realize that abuse wasn't normal. Basically, I felt like a big misfit. I didn't know that God loved me, and I didn't know his Son had died for me.
At the age of 16, I quit school and began working at a local diner. I would frequently work double shifts just so I could stay away from home. After talking with several people at work, I began to realize that all of the abuse at home was wrong. So, I decided to tell the elders. They ended up talking with my father, but did nothing. Unbelievably, the finger was pointed at me-as if I was some kind of liar seeking attention. Even my mother was furious with me. Well, it did put an end to the abuse, but I had grown to despise my father.
When I left home at the age of 18, I took with me feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, low self-esteem, and low self-confidence. To ignore these feelings and fill an emptiness inside, I got mixed up with the wrong crowd. I was wild and ended up getting into all kinds of trouble. It was a life of destruction. My mother came to see me once when I was 19, and she apologized for not being a better mom by listening to me. She also said she wanted to leave dad, and I encouraged her to do so. However, she never did leave him.
I had my first child-a wonderful daughter-when I was 22 years old. It was at that time that I tried to calm down a little. Three years later, I met a man and fell madly in love with him. We wound up getting married a short time later. He was wonderful with my little girl; she adored him. Two years later, we had our son. Unfortunately, trouble struck soon after his birth. My husband became abusive, a drunk, and he left me. I was a single mother again. What I had thought was the answer to all of my problems was gone.
Within a short time, I returned to the partying life-style. What a big mistake! I soon got my third DUI, was laid off from my job, and even faced eviction from my home. During this time, a friend of mine was allowing her children to ride a bus on Sundays to a local church. She encouraged me to let my children go, but I was skeptical. (I had always been taught that everyone who attended one of Christendom's churches were bad. I knew that they believed Jesus died on a cross, and I had always been taught that anyone who believed that was wrong. I was even at the point that I believed anyone who wore a cross was demon possessed.) But I really needed a mother's morning out, so I allowed my children to ride the bus with her children and to attend the church.
By the time they had been going for several weeks, I was in a pretty desperate financial situation. So, I decided to ask the bus driver if he thought the church would give me some financial assistance. He said he would check, and I was hopeful. The next day-feeling pretty empty-I decided to go visit an old friend who was a Witness. I told her that my life needed something, and that I was considering going back to the Kingdom Hall. However, later that evening two men from the local church (where my kids had been bused to) showed up at my doorstep. They said they could provide financial assistance. They also said that Jesus could help me. I was a little confused. I didn't know what they meant when they said Jesus could help me. Then they asked me if I knew that I was going to heaven or hell when I died. In my mind I was thinking, "Woe, wait a minute, whatever happened to Jehovah's Witnesses living forever on a Paradise Earth? I've always been told that hell really didn't exist and that only the 'anointed' would go to heaven. But I'm not a Witness, and I'm definitely not one of the anointed. So, what is going to happen to me if I die?"
The two men ended up sharing God's plan of salvation with me. They took me to Romans 3:10, and showed me that no one was righteous; and that the only way I could ever hope to be righteous was by placing my faith in Jesus Christ (Romans 3:22-24). Then they showed me Romans 6:23, which says that the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. (But wait, if eternal life was a free gift, then I didn't have to work for it! And this verse said eternal life comes through Jesus Christ, not through a Society or through associating with a group of "anointed" people.) Finally, they showed me Romans 10:10-13 which said that if I confessed with my mouth, "Jesus is Lord" and believed in my heart that God raised him from the dead, I would be saved. (It didn't say I could be, or might be saved. It said I would be saved.) Suddenly, I believed everything they had shown me. As they prayed with me, I received Jesus as my Lord and Savior. Instantly, I felt a tremendous weight lifted from my shoulders. God had changed me in an instant. The void and empty feelings I had always felt were gone. I was a new creation-I was saved. The date was May 28, 1991, and I was 28 years old.
I joined the church and was baptized two weeks later. Each day that followed was so exciting. I was so happy inside, even though I still faced many problems. The pastor and church prayed with me and provided me with some much-needed financial support. The pastor even went to court with me. This type of unconditional love and support was all very new to me. I had never experienced anything like this, not even from my immediate family. Even though my mom had always told me she loved me, her actions made it clear that her love was conditional.
I ended up telling my parents that I had been saved, and they acted happy for me. I was growing in Christ every day. I was reading his word, going to church, and talking with the pastor on the phone. He would pray with me about my trials and my husband who had left me. Eventually, my husband did come back. But it didn't last. He left again-this time with my son-without warning. I had to file for divorce in order to get my son back. My son was given back, I found another job, and I wasn't evicted from my home.
The following year, I met my present husband (who is a Christian) and we dated for about a year before being married in 1993. But not long after our marriage, I began having very confusing and unsettled feelings. I even started having nightmares and flashbacks of my past. But I didn't understand why my past was surfacing again. I had thought it was all behind me. As a result, I became very depressed. It was during this time that I became friends with an aunt whom I had never known. She too was a Christian, and she helped me understand that I had brought a lot of baggage from the past into my marriage. She encouraged me to get some counseling, so I ended up getting into a Christian counseling group. In dealing with and facing the past, I became depressed, and I was put into a hospital. While there, I suffered a mental breakdown.
I broke off all communication with my parents because I was angry at them. I knew now that they were one of the main causes of all of this. I realized that I had also been spiritually abused when I was growing up. And even though Christ now lived in me, I still had some old JW brainwashing that I was dealing with. What you're taught as a child stays with you for the rest of your life. However, I knew that God had allowed me to go through this so that I could experience His healing touch. So that He would receive the glory.
But God was also showing me the dangerous effects of the Watchtower Society's teachings. With the help of my aunt and uncle, I began to understand what drove me away from my parents and into the world. True, the Society never forces anyone to leave their parents and start living a wild life-style. But the Society's doctrines are designed to alienate people from God, their family, and even themselves. For example, most of my siblings-who are still Witnesses-treat me like I'm something dirty and even shun me. But that's okay; I now have a family made up of many brothers and sisters. The only sibling who doesn't treat me that way is a brother who was disfellowshipped several years ago for smoking. (Recently, however, he began to see what God had done in my life, and as a result, he too received Christ in October of this past year.)
Looking back now, I'm amazed at the way God has protected me. There were times when I really should have ended up dead. But I know that God had plans for me. Not only was he building up my character, but he was strengthening my witness. Those first 28 years of my life may have been horrible, but God can use everything for his glory. Years ago, I would never have guessed that I would have a story worth sharing.
Coming to know God and His people, and sharing his good news is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Today, I know where I am going when I die, and I don't have the nightmares, flashbacks, and confusion. And the best part is that He isn't finished with me yet. Praise God!