Friday, October 13, 2006
This is an experience I heard during a talk entitled ‘Do it Jehovah’s Way’ given by a circuit overseer back in the 80's. The brother asks the audience how others, such as our co-workers or classmates view us. As someone that blends into the world, or someone different, guided by Bible principles.
This is a very sad letter he read from a non-witness to a witness girl and the impact her conduct had on this person. Here goes:
"Dear Barbra,
You probably don’t remember me. If you do, your first impulse is to tear this up, but please read it through first.
We were classmates in high school English together. I’m the tall pretty girl that sat in front of you. The one who made fun of you in front of the class. The one who always made fun of you because you were just a plain old Jehovah’s Witness. I’m the one who used to be popular. The one all the boys used to go out with. The one elected homecoming queen, head majorette – captain of the cheerleaders.
I’m writing this letter to apologize, Barbra, because I did you a great wrong. I’m the one who started the ugly rumor that you’re a lesbian because you wouldn’t accept dates from boys. Yes. I know you said something about being a Christian, keeping yourself free from bad associations, and you were saving yourself for marriage so you can give to some deserving Christian young man a rare and precious gift on your wedding night, a pure, unmolested virgin as a wife. It was hard for me to understand that, because I had been on the pill since I was 13 and I had 2 abortions by the time I was 18. That’s why I couldn’t understand you, because I thought all normal girls were doing the same things I was. Many were. I’m sure of that. That’s why I thought you were so odd. I must admit I hated you so, not because you refused to smoke pot with us in parked cars between classes and after school. Not because you wouldn’t falsify notes from your parents to go to pot parties with us. But I hated you because you had something I could never have: peace of mind and self-respect. No boy could point at you from across the room and brag about how he had sex with you the night before. No teacher could bring up your name in the teacher’s lounge as they sip coffee as an example of what young people are coming to be. Yes, I hated you, because you displayed a faith in God that I lost a long time ago.
You remember Joe Warner, don’t you? The captain of the basketball team, who took the team all the way to the triple conferences. We got married the same year we graduated, 3 years ago. I was too close along to have an abortion. His father and my mother were very close friends. Too close, if you know what I mean. They decided it wouldn’t hurt if Joe and I got married, so the child would have a name. Joe didn’t like the idea of marriage at first. But his father promised him a new car if he went through with it. So we got married.
I kept telling Joe the baby must be his, but to be honest, I couldn’t be sure myself. He was born 2 months premature. The delivery was difficult, but I’ll be all right. The doctors say I won’t be able to have any more children. He was such a beautiful baby, precious little thing. Joe wrecked his car 6 months after our marriage. 6 months later, he wrecked our marriage too. The divorce became final last week. By the way, Mark, that’s my baby, he died last Friday. He got in the cabinet and drank some bleach.
You were the only one I could think to write to. I don’t have friends anymore. My father’s an alcoholic now that my mother has run off with Joe’s father. I don’t have anybody else to turn to. It’s funny, that you were the only one I could think of to write to. The one I made fun of. The one I lied on and hated the most. When you went out of your way to teach me God’s Word, I made fun of you.
Don’t change. For God’s sake, don’t change.
P.S. Will God forgive a person if he takes his own life?"
"How do others view us?" the brother asked again. As Jehovah’s Witness, or not?
