Growing Up Jehovah’s Witness

We had church three days a week, though we didn’t call it that. The “meetings” were Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. And Saturday morning, bright and early, I’d be out with my family knocking on doors.

We all dressed our best. My mom brushed and braided my hair. We practiced our lines, the scriptures we’d read to whoever happened to answer the door. We were saving lives, turning people to God, away from their material, wordly existences.

I never celebrated my birthday. Never had a Christmas tree. Never dressed up for Halloween. All of these things were prohibited. They were selfish, pagan, or both.

In school, I sat in another class while the kids had birthday cupcakes and Valentine’s Day candy. I held my head high on those days—because my religion was right. Everyone else was wrong.

I left the religion when I was sixteen, and it wasn’t easy. My grandfather and uncle were elders. My aunts were pioneers. My entire family belonged to this special group of Christians, which many see as extreme. And no one took it lightly when I decided to walk away.

Over the years I’ve come to appreciate my somewhat strange childhood. My mother is a sweet, strong woman who holds onto her values and always tried to do right by me and my brother.

Here’s a few things I learned from growing up knocking on doors.

1. The art of delayed gratification.

Jehovahs Witnesses are all about the art of delayed gratification. No, I couldn’t have presents on my birthday. No, I couldn’t sleep in on Saturday mornings. Yes, I had to pray before I could enjoy my dinner. But in return for my sacrifices I had a paradise earth to look forward to in the future. A world where no one ever got sick or died. Where all my relatives and friends would return from the dead and live forever in the world god had created for the righteous.

This skill is one that has helped me immensely in my life as an adult. Yes, I must give up eating junk food for my health. Yes, I must work hard today so in the future I can retire. No, the things I want are not always right around the corner.

My mother instilled in me the idea of sacrifice. And for that, I will always be grateful.

2. People are worth saving.

One day a nice Jehovah Witness family was out in service, door to door. As you can imagine, not everyone is happy to receive one early in the morning, touting a Bible and magazines they’ll probably never read.

The woman who answered the door to this family was not a peaceful woman. Things were probably going wrong in her life. Maybe she was just busy and they’d interrupted her.

Whatever the reason, she opened her door and dumped an entire pot of scalding soup onto the family— children and all. Then she cursed them and slammed the door.

Now, most people would be horrified if this happened to them. What a terrible excuse for a human. How hard would it be to just politely say you’re not interested? Or even better, leave the door unanswered.

But this family, with their deeply religious beliefs, decided the woman deserved an act of kindness. The soup was her meal and now she was without. So, the family cleaned themselves best they could, drove to the nearest supermarket, and purchased the ingredients for a new soup. They left the groceries on the doorstep and continued on their way.

My mother told me this story many times. She emphasized the fact that Jesus always turned his cheek to those who sought to do him wrong. She told me yes, people would slam doors in our faces. They’d sick their dogs on us. They’d say horrible things.

But in every person was the seed of goodness. Despite the harshness of their actions, all they really wanted was to love and to be loved.

They were all worth saving. And that was why we got dressed nicely and knocked on their doors. To be the good neighbors they needed.

That message has alway stuck with me, even as I left the religion and made my way in the world outside of it.

Peoples’ actions do not define them. Terrible things happen and people are often just products of the way they were raised, the situations they find themselves in.

I try to always move through the world with this truth in mind. I try to understand where people are coming from.

We all deserve love. We all deserve the chance for redemption.

3. Family is forever.

Jehovahs Witnesses are big on family but like any tight knit group, they only tolerate so much. If you decide to dedicate yourself to the religion in terms of baptism and then later sin without regret, you are disfellowshipped.

That means no one in the religion, not even your family, can interact with you.

My mother was devastated when I told her I no longer believed in the things she believed. She shut herself in her room for days. She called in elders and my family members to talk to me, to try and bring me back into the fold.

It was tense for a while. I had to move out at eighteen and figure out my new life outside of everything I had ever known. I didn’t talk to my family for three years.

And then I became a mother. And slowly, they started coming around. They reached out to me about my new baby. They asked to see me. They asked me to come to the meetings. Even though I had rejected everything theyd tried to instill in me, they were still my family. And they loved me.

I would never disown my own child. I can’t imagine anything he could do that would make me cut contact with him for years. But I know at some point we will have disagreements. Things we fight about. Things I don’t approve of.

My mother told me “family is forever. They’re the people you should be able to count on, unconditionally.”

Now I have my own family. And my husband’s family as well. I make a special effort for my loved ones because they’re precious and life is too short.

My mother taught me this and it’s so important.

4. People need something to believe in.

This is the biggest lesson I learned growing up knocking on doors. I was born a skeptic, always asking questions I shouldn’t have asked. I told my mom once “I don’t believe anything I can’t see or touch myself.”

And she said that was crazy. She said “you believe in evolution even though you never saw it happen. You believe in planets though you’ve never set foot on them. You believe in love even though you can’t physically see it.”

At the time, I brushed her off. Heaven and hell, angels and demons— none of it was for me.

And then my grandfather died. And my grandmother grieves to this day. They’d been married over fifty years and spent those years in service to the Jehovah they so fervently believed in.

After his death, I sat with my grandmother, who I was always close to. She likes to have conversations with me about god and ask me questions about what I believe.

I told her one day how silly it was that anyone could assume there was a life after death. No one had come back and therefore, everyone was speculating. I couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just say “I don’t know what happens” and be okay with that.

When I said this I saw the realization dawn on her. She really didn’t know. She believed with all her heart. But she didn’t know for certain. And in the wake of my grandfathers death, at the age of eighty five, this rocked her to her core.

And I realized something— people need to believe in something. Anything. Even if it’s the Flying Spaghetti Monster. The idea that life is a random assortment of events, with no rhyme or reason, is too much to handle. Death looms over us every day, affects us when we least expect it.

People need something to believe.

Today, I’m less keen on arguing with those who have found meaning in something larger than themselves. I don’t tell my son that heaven isn’t real. Who am I to speculate? Who am I to say what you believe is false?

No matter how you grew up, no matter who your parents are, you can find lessons in it all.

My mother taught me to be kind, loving, and hard working. She taught me that good things come to those who stay the path and don’t waver. She taught me that people are worthy of redemption, no matter their sins. And that everyone, yes even me, have to believe in something.

She was a boss mom. A door knocking, Jesus preaching, tough love mom. And I love her always and hope I make her proud.