Wednesday, January 16, 2013

How I Lost My Faith . XVI - The Test

After a couple of months renting a room, a Witness couple, Gary and Elizabeth, invited me to stay in their house, in the basement bedroom.  It was a bit rustic, but I wasn't interested in material things, just my spiritual library and meeting clothes.  I remember having a very frank discussion with Elizabeth once about the habit I was striving to overcome, and she responding, "It's better to masturbate than go out looking for sex."  That counsel helped as I fought to get it under control, but I had a goal to meet: two weeks straight with no self-abuse.  Ted had actually suggested that to me during a Bible study: 'make it two weeks then we'll talk.'
Finally, I did it; I made it through two weeks of agonizing self-control!  It may not seem like such a big deal, but it was all I had, all I could tangibly do to prove my love for Jehovah God and my determination to be clean in His eyes.  I was  anticipating joining the Theocratic Ministry School and giving talks before the congregation.  I knew enough about "the Truth" to qualify; it was down to just this.  Ted and I met with another elder, the School Overseer, Sam J.  I explained how much progress I'd made, and that two weeks of clean behaviour had passed, so "Can I join the School now?!"
Ted gave his okay, but deferred to Brother J., as he was in charge of the School.  I remember feeling exhilarated...this was it; this was my vindication!
He said, 
"Why don't we give it two more weeks and then talk?"
I was stunned.  What I heard was not, 'only two more weeks';  what I heard was, 
"You're still not good enough and you never will be!!"
I was completely devastated, and I’m sure Ted could see the change that began taking over me. In my mind, I threw my hands up in the air in disgust...and, for the first time in months, I thought about having a drink...in a bar...with guys. By the time I left the Kingdom Hall that evening, I knew what I was about to do—betray Jehovah, as I felt He had betrayed me and condemned me as unfit for service. He was not there with me that evening, I felt, or I would be heading home to prepare for the School now.
In my mind, Jehovah God himself had rejected me. It was the most devastating thing that had ever happened to me—bar only one, when I was 5 or 6 years old—and I simply could not bear it. That night, I went to a gay bar and decided to leave the congregation; Jehovah obviously didn’t want me there, anyway.
After the bar, I went to an adult bookstore/theater and met a young Navy stud named Glenn. He was gorgeous, and I was instantly drawn to him. Within a month of walking out of the Hall, I moved out of the basement bedroom and into Glenn’s apartment. As I was moving the last of my things out to Glenn’s car, my former close friend, Phillip, stopped by and, passing me on the porch, said, “Have a nice life!” I felt like he’d slapped me in the face, and I resolved to never come back.

Two weeks. It doesn’t seem like such a long time, now that I’m much older, but back then it was an eternity. I was one who wanted...needed...everything done now. I’d wasted too much time away from Jehovah and was determined to make up for it by progressing in the organization as quickly as I could. Two more weeks—it might as well have been two years. I’d put all I had into that one effort, and it wasn’t enough.
I’d failed the test, and so I slunk away into the darkness of sin and despair.

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