A Silent Classroom

Below you will find the daily text from Friday, December 23, 2016. I came to know of this entry through a text I received from my mother that read "Read the text for December 23". This text was received years after I let her know that the organization she was aligned with was immoral and that I'd never return to it.



With the burial of a donkey, he will be buried.

Jeremiah 22:19

We can find bible accounts of some who received a rich spiritual heritage but failed to appreciate it.
That was true in the family of one prophet, Samuel, who served Jehovah from a young age and had a fine record with God. Samuel set an example that his sons, Joel and Abijah, would have done well to imitate. However, they did not appreciate this, and they turned out to be bad. The bible record tells us that unlike their father, they "perverted justice" It was similar with King Josiah's sons. Josiah set a superb example in worshipping Jehovah. Ye, when three of his sons and one grandsons in time became kings, not one of them showed appreciation for what had been passed on to him. How sad that these men who had such a promising background and the opportunity to do what was right let it go to waste.


A previous version of myself would have absorbed this as guilt and inferiority.  After all, I was the son of the presiding overseer and super elder of days gone by. How dare I squander my "inheritance!"


That was several updates ago.


The current version of me read the surrounding scriptures for context.


Therefore this is what Jehovah says concerning Jehoiakim son of Josiʹah, the king of Judah,‘They will not mourn him: “Alas, my brother! Alas, my sister!”They will not mourn him:“Alas, O master! Alas, his majesty!”

Jeremiah 22:18

This was a message I received from the person who carried me in her body for 9 months. The woman who nursed me and nurtured me when I couldn't take care of myself. This was that person letting me know that she would not mourn my death and that I was "bad" because I no longer believed the things she wanted me to believe. I was being told that I could not achieve in life or at death, any greater distinction than that of a donkey.

A phone call was in order. I was livid however, I needed to be measured and clear. I waited until I could coordinate my thoughts into clear and concise communication.

I dialed and she answered in her familiarly whimsical elation. She seemed excited to hear from me and started in with her normative endearments: "how are you?", "how is your wife?", haven't heard from you in a while." Upon hearing these things my rage began to wane. I started to feel like I may have been over thinking this and that my mother was older and likely didn't understand how hurtful she was being by directing me to such contemptible propaganda.

That's when it hit me. This had happened before. It had happened all my life. Every meeting, every family study, every personal study was an emotional assault followed by a period of sustained whitewashing of the previous salvo. She was normalizing my trauma and gas lighting me toward inaction. When I asked her why she wanted me to read the text, she indicated that she thought it would be helpful to me. I stopped her and read excerpts. She feigned ignorance to the significance. Ultimately she apologized and indicated she did not mean for the information to be taken the way it was. 

I was at an impasse of both word and thought. The rest of the conversation is blurred in my mind. I do know that I articulated my discontent however, I stopped short of spilling out the entirety of my rage. I'd done this in the past with my mother no avail. This time I was listening; I've been listening and watching ever since and I've seen and heard some disturbing things. I've seen my mother wait until my wife was in the restroom before leaving our baby shower. I've seen her promise to spend time with her granddaughter and not showing up. 

I've seen her desperately attempt to reinstate her abusive hold. She sometimes calls and when I pick up, she doesn't speak. Later, she will leave a text that says she "called accidentally" or her "phone was malfunctioning." I decided to stop answering calls from her. I've come to understand that if ever something is needed (usually monetarily) a direct call is made with specific needs expressed with clear and distinct parameters. As of last Thursday, just before I set off to celebrate my daughter's first birthday, I received the following message from my active Jehovah's sister.

"Hello

Our mother is scheduled to close escrow September 27th. In 7 days. She is going to need your help."


I didn't respond. A response would only dignify the abuse. Monday morning I received a call from my mother. The phone only rang once and there was no voicemail. Again, I did not respond.


Silence has allowed me to hear the sounds I was missing while shouting into the void. I've been given a second sight as I've watch certain members of my family flail insanely at their inability to manipulate me.


By refusing to participate in my own psychological torment I've come to understand that my mother has been taking advantage of me for a very long time. She has been accepting assistance from me, and accepting unconditional love while simultaneously rejecting the value of my life. I wish I could say these revelations were therapeutic or cleansing in some way, however they are quite the opposite.


Seeing the wreckage of our families is not a page that any of us hope to happen upon while thumbing through the pages of our lives. It is, in fact, another layer of dysfunction that we must unlearn. The only solace I've gained from it all was found in the infinite waveform of silence.