It was the best year of my life when I met and dated a JW girl. We had a lot of fun, a lot of laughs and what was by all appearances a loving, warm relationship. She was sweet, funny and really affectionate. For nearly the entire year she was in a wheelchair as the result of a car accident. One thing though was missing. As a Christian I had little time for God. I kind of forgot about Him. My JW girlfriend was pretty much my whole world. It wasn’t until much later that that I realized God would never bless our union. We were unequally yoked. She knew nothing about the free gift of salvation. Knew nothing of God’s grace. Nothing of the redemption through the blood of Christ. The Truth was not in her. The Kingdom Hall where she attended church services, teaches that Jesus was merely the chief of the angels; the Archangel Michael. His death didn’t pay the penalty for sin, but brought back the possibility for perfection in the human life. We can be righteous on our own. The deity of Christ as the Creator of all things is completely denied and really doesn’t play much of a role anymore. My JW girlfriend and I were spiritually incompatible. If we talked about the things of God, she refused to use the Holy Bible. Her religion has its own “bible” as do the other religious cults. The founder of the JWs, Charles T. Russell and two of his friends were in a basement with the Holy Bible and went through it verse by verse. If they disagreed with something, they merely made changes to it . Russell was offended by the Bible’s teaching on hell, that he changed it to eternal annihilation. In other words, all non JWs will cease to exist after death. They will only be in God’s memory. Try as I might to present the Gospel of Jesus Christ to my JW girlfriend, it was all Greek to her. She said I was being weird.
When she healed from her injuries and began to walk again, she not only ditched the wheelchair, but she also ditched me. It was sudden, without warning. I didn’t even know what hit me. Were there signs she was losing interest? Personality change? I was so naive and clueless.I was so blinded by love I thought we were forever. It wasn’t until much later that I learned from a mutual friend that she had gone back to a guy she had dated when we first met. He wasn’t a JW. He had no religious beliefs and was an alcoholic.
For months afterwards, I couldn’t eat or sleep. I sank into a deep depression. Trying to snap out of it, I called a JW lady who lived up the road from me. Soon they were coming to my house weekly for bible study. I wanted to know what the JWs actually believe. Somehow I thought it would help me to understand my ex girlfriend better. Maybe I just wanted to feel closer to her by spending time with “her people.” It didn’t work. Instead, I felt something important was missing. I felt empty. It didn’t take long to find out what it was. Jesus Christ was missing. They didn’t even talk about him. I felt so guilty because I have been a Christian for many years and knew better. I quickly repented.
It’s been 14 years since I last saw my old JW girlfriend. I still think about her from time to time and, yeah, sometimes I still miss her. But I also know the union could never work. She completely rejects the Savior that I love and put all my faith in. I still pray for her that God will open her spiritual eyes and her heart to receive the Gospel of Jesus Christ before it is too late.
Dear Reader, the following story actually happened. Some names and events were changed to protect the guilty.
You are having a conversation with your co-worker Nora. She asks you how was your recent honeymoon.
“Do you have time for a long story?” you ask.
Nora nods her head.
“We got married at the Moose Lodge. Said our vows, turned around, took six steps and there was our buffet table.”
Nora giggles like a school girl.
“Let me back up a bit. We got a call the night before the wedding from a mutual friend, telling us that no one had decorated the Lodge. I look at my wife-to be and say: “What the f***? Wasn’t your aunt Myrtle and Aunt Dellafina supposed to take care of it?”
“They’re old,” she says, defensively.
“Senile is more like it,” I snort.” Why in the world did you tell them they could do it?”
“I didn’t. They volunteered.”
“If a blind person offered to drive the Bookmobile, would you hand them the keys?”
The wife- to-be glares at you. “We’ll have to get up at 4:30 in the morning and do it ourselves.”
Just before Lana and I left the diner, she was again apologizing for calling the police. She claimed she didn’t know that when I was looking in her window I was only checking on her to see if she was alright. She panicked and impulsively called 911, thinking I was a voyeur.
“I should have known better. You’re no peeping Tom.”
“It’s all water under the bridge now, Lana.” I let her pay the check and we headed out to the parking lot.
“Can we get together again, soon?” she asked. I hesitated only a second.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it”
Her eyes betrayed sadness and a heart that was hurting. “Okay, I understand.” She gave me a peck on the cheek, then stood there a moment as if waiting for me to respond with an embrace or a more meaningful kiss. I did nothing. Not even offering to give her a ride home which was nearly a mile away. She turned and headed for the street, her hips swaying seductively. Continue reading →
I met Lana at a diner for breakfast. She had put on a little weight, but otherwise still looked the same. I ordered black coffee and Lana had eggs, bacon and toast. She seemed somewhat shy, cautious, as if trying to feel me out and see where it went. It was like being strangers. As if we were getting to know each other for the first time. Or perhaps a second chance to undo some damages and right some wrongs. To start telling the truth. I knew we would never be more than just friends. I didn’t want her and whatever attraction I thought she might have had, wasn’t there. I didn’t feel anything and wondered why I was even at this diner with her. It had to be pity. She was lonely and mentally unstable. I was used to being around women like her. My best friend of 13 years has schizophrenia. Continue reading →
I always thought it would be great to be married. It meant having sex whenever you want. How cool is that! Its within the confines of the martial bed, so that makes it pure and honorable. No parish priest will look at you askance or make you feel so guilty that you wonder if you should be catholic just so you can go to confession and have a celibate man in black absolve you and make you clean again. I met this girl once who had a libido that was even more crazier than mine. She spent some summers when she was growing up at a nudist camp with her folks. I had seen photos of her and other girls nude and posing for a beauty contest. I think she was about 10 or 11 years old. When I met her folks I couldn’t imagine them doing this kind of stuff. Her mother had become deeply religious, was very soft spoken and a bit of a prude. Continue reading →
I had this incredibly delicious dream last night. I was a prince who acted and dressed like a commoner. Men respected me, while the women fell madly in love. I owned a very big house. It was long and one story. The kind you see in Europe rather than America. Children were climbing up on the thatched roof to play. The man whose job it was to watch them, apologized profusely and told me it would never happen again.
In the next scene, I am doing housework with others in someone’s home. I have no idea what to do, or even how to run a vacuum cleaner. Women rush to my aid and take over. Cleaning supplies are locked up in a cabinet. A call is placed to the owner who apologizes and says he will come straightaway with the key. He takes too long, so I bring in weird, gas operated items from my house. The job is quickly done. I am clumsy though and spill a lot of water on the carpet. It becomes obvious that I am not skilled in these menial tasks. Because I am a prince, no one will hold anything I do against me. Continue reading →
Not long after I graduated from high school I fell into a deep funk. Actually it was a serious depression. I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life and never really had any ambitions. There didn’t seem to be much of a future. No wife and kids down the road. No big house with the white picket fence and dogs running around. All because of a stupid birth defect. I was born with the wrong chromosomes which not only resulted in underdevelopment in certain areas, but also some unwanted parts. My body was unable to produce enough testosterone which meant that I had to give myself injections every month for the remainder of my life. I felt cheated and robbed. Angry at God and the world. Angry that size matters. As a kid growing up, I knew I was different from the other boys. I had a very male brain but my body was botched. My organ failed to keep growing and my voice didn’t really deepen much. I told a few close friends that God must have used leftover, discarded parts when He put me together. I remember well the days when I lashed out at God. Threw a crucifix across the room where it hit the wall. Tore up Bibles. I was dangerously suicidal and even made a serious attempt. I wrote a letter to a Christian friend where I spilled my secret. She prayed hard that God would help me find a way to accept my lot in life and move on. She would get out of bed at 3AM, drop to her knees and pray till she couldn’t kneel anymore. One day she told me she no longer knew what to pray. She feared she was asking of God things that wasn’t His will.
I needed corrective surgery, but it didn’t seem likely to ever happen because of the astronomical costs. I was 24 years old and finally out of my parent’s house and into a studio apartment where the rent was ridiculously cheap: $210 a month plus electric. I was only working 20-30 hours a week and sometimes couldn’t afford food. There was no girl in my life, nor had I ever dated in high school. Continue reading →