In the last year I have well learned the courtesy of when and when not to speak about my conversion to Catholicism, or more likely my conversion away from the 'Truth'. Now that I have the breathing space of two years it is easier to accomplish this, but still it is an effort not to mention it constantly. The trouble is in how many little things trigger memories that composed the greater portion of my life. I seem to have unconsciously put up a wall between the thoughts of years past and the few years since. I think I have done well in recent times with this, the exception being close friends - but even in that case little is said. My concern, though, rests in whether I am finding consolation from bad memories and childhood or merely suppressing the things I would rather just forget. To play on the safe side lest the latter be true, I write tonight on a subject that has been bothering me.

Though my faith as one of Jehovah's Witnesses was put into question in my later year of grade school, my real discernment, nay conversion really took place in the summer of 2005; merely a wink into the past. In those first several months I took strength of wisdom from the most unlikely sources, at least to me. I spoke to priests and sisters, former witnesses, apostates, elders, missionaries, workmates, schoolmates and M. It is the former witnesses that most piqued my curiosity, ever wary of what they had to say. Oddly enough I have only been slightly comforted by one such individual. It would seem that former Witnesses, abused as I had been, would be a refuge in a confusing world of new faith and tradition, let alone new dating scenes, politics, literature and never ending new things. But, to my despair the only comfort I received was mustered from M, and not easily at that. Maybe it was my training as a Witness to tread lightly on the words of former Witnesses (Rather not at all) or perhaps it was my cautious eye turning from the Catholic faith unto my fellow believers, but the first former Witnesses I spoke to were less that adequately trained in their former faith. I found myself correcting their views of Witnesses because, frankly, they were utterly wrong, even by doctrine.

Aside from the ex-Witnesses I was in contact with, there were a few who I tried contacting myself. I remember one night when I was so distraught I had to speak to a former Brother of mine in the faith who fell out a few years earlier. I couldn't seem to get a hold of him myself and so in my weakness, I asked M to call for me. The call ended quickly and was less that successful. T didn't want anything to do with me. I immediately recalled the last moments I had spent with him personally. He was moving to North Carolina and on my way out from helping him move he shook my hand, and to my surprise, told me to never leave the 'Truth'. "Never leave," he said - that was all. But I could read far more in his eyes than his words ever could. He knew he was leaving the faith just as he was leaving his home. He fled just as I did, though not as far as I would have wished. It was not until a year later that I was contacted by someone helpful. Miriam had been on the black list of friends I could not speak to though she was also a Witness. Her friends were less that reputable and so were her actions. Personally, I did not care for her either. Not exactly my type of friend, but after both of our falling out we had something in common. She was truthful and sincere, a quality very hard to find in fellow Witnesses. Most, in their spite, tell slighted truth or downright lies in order to develop a greater distaste for the faith. But Miriam told it how it was, not leaving out her own weaknesses. I found it a very biblical tell of how a true Christian ought to act. Thought our conversations have been sparced into simple paragraphs here and there, I respect her opinion now greatly.

I have recently been keeping track of a blog posted by a woman who has lost a large portion of her family over her conversion from the 'Truth'. She had some words of comfort sent my direction, but whether or not to actually be comforted by them I am not sure. It is difficult to be trusting for someone who has understandably lost trust in nearly everyone they knew. But my thought is; better to trust not at all than to trust someone who could lead an already weak mind to further destruction. Becoming Catholic has not pushed me to a sooner place in heaven, rather I am guaranteed a deeper place in hell for my spout of believe, in my one act of faith. Before my conversion I wish more than anything the life of a terrible sinner, but since then I have only acted on those urges to a degree I could not have imaged. My sin before was an addiction of the mind, but now I have the stain of sin marked with every drag. I am now able to kill away my memories if even for one night, only to remain alive for the next day. In some ways, the only fence between me and a suicidal me.

Posted in: on Sunday, September 30, 2007 at at 12:47 AM