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“Dear Brothers” – An Open Letter to the Christian Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses

Dear Brothers,

I know I said would send this letter many years ago, I apologize for the delay.

The truth is, up until now I had been afraid to send a letter or submit to the discipline of the elder body because I was scared that I would be misunderstood and branded as ‘disfellowshipped’, or worse, an ‘apostate’ – labels equally as terrible as thief and murderer. Labels that are considered even worse than death. 

I’ll never forget my final conversation with Brother C* when he asked if I would go back to meetings, and I told him I didn’t feel ready. That I was still hurt by the neglect and detached attitude of my then husband and especially the elders. His scruffy response was, “Well, then you know what we have to do. You’ll need to send us a letter.” I was shocked into silence. I couldn’t believe how quickly his tone had changed. His calm, friendly, compassionate tone had turned into cold apathy within one breath. He was suddenly aloof, but with a strong sense of urgency. His next few text messages to me would abruptly shift from “I hope you changed your mind or would like to talk about this” to “here is the address to send your letter”, both sent with zero response from me. The elders are nothing if not scrupulous with their candor. 

Still, they did assist me where needed with my then husband. A husband who valued appearances and reputation – making his name for Jehovah – far more than he valued the dignity and mental health of his wife. A husband who had the title of intermediary between wife and elder, controlling the connection between a ‘weaker vessel’ and god, as husbands and elders do. A husband who claimed that his dark sins and secrets belonged only to Jehovah, his wife be damned. A husband praised by his elder body for his example while simultaneously demeaning his wife for lack of faith.

When I needed the elders though, they came through. They helped my then husband to communicate with me, and provide me updates as to our divorce proceedings, something I had thought would be a simple and reasonable ask. As it turns out, shunning begins immediately after the divorce papers are filed. 

The label of ‘disfellowshipped’, when branded on you, sends a message to all your loved ones, friends and foes, that this one here—yes, she has a bad heart condition. She is neither repentant nor is she faithful. No, she is faithless and spiritually destitute, not even worthy of conversing with.   

I was told my relationship with Jehovah was personal and that only he and his son could read hearts. Yet, here was a group of three men ready to determine the condition of my heart, with god’s approval, and judge it according to how Jesus would have. A group of men would deem me as bad or good, rotten fruit or forgotten sheep. A group of men who barely knew me, much less respected me as a human being, not just as ‘a woman in need of attention’. 

Words are powerful, as you well know. To label someone as ‘disfellowshipped,’ or ‘apostate’, is to condemn them to a life without friends and family that they hold dear. A condemnation of spiritual death as well as physical death, for your family mourns the loss of your eternal life, and some who are ‘disfellowshipped’ will in turn, run head-first into a physical death to escape that pain. Yes, many have chosen suicide over ‘disfellowshipping’.

Since your elder body hardly knew me from the next and didn’t care to in my most difficult moments, I’ll let you in on this: since I was a little girl, I have always wanted to do the right thing. I have never wanted to disappoint anyone or have anyone look at me negatively. I knew my heart was good deep down. All I have ever wanted was love and acceptance. Interesting to note that in my most vulnerable state as a youth, I sought love and acceptance from Jehovah god. A jealous, war-like, vengeful god. You know this to be true, his own written word describes him as such.

I am grown now. It doesn’t matter what you call me, what you deem me as, my once cherished relationships with other members of the congregation were severed without your formal label. But it is not their bible-trained conscience or their heart condition that caused them to stop associating with me. It is the emotional manipulation from the Governing Body that has encouraged them to cut me off in an effort to make me feel guilt and shame, only so I could return to a vengeful god and his jealous congregation. For aren’t we made in his image? 

I was afraid of labels. Scared of a vengeful god and his people who judge and shun and hate. I am not afraid anymore. I will say now what I wanted to say many years ago when Brother C asked if I knew what they had to do now that I didn’t want to go back to meetings. I would say, if Jehovah feels it is right to judge me for this, to destroy me at Armageddon, to cut off my extended family and friends forever, for this—for who I am, then I want nothing to do with him. He is not and will never be my god. 

Furthermore, I am very well aware of the rampant child sexual abuse that is being systematically suppressed and covered up by the elder body in many, if not all congregations globally. I am thoroughly repulsed and deeply angered for the way the Governing Body has chosen to deal with this issue. While they have sought to not bring reproach upon Jehovah’s name, by silencing victims, children, they have done just that. 

So I will take my knowledge and experience as a former Jehovah’s Witness, I will use all my time and resources, in order to speak for those who do not have a voice. I will spend the rest of my life speaking out about the organization and the Governing Body. Most importantly, I will speak out against the elder body who, with their arrangement, perpetuate the systemic sexual and physical abuse among the congregation. 

Without the elder arrangement and the fearmongering of the Armageddon doctrine (which mimics the hellfire doctrine of Christendom), this religion has only greedy, manipulative, abusive, false prophet televangelists to stand upon. I will find happiness and fulfillment spending the rest of my existence speaking out against the influence and authority of the Governing Body, their machinations, and their complicity in abuse. My determination to do so is a direct reflection of a ‘bible-trained’ conscience.

Please remove my name and personal information from your ledgers, effective immediately. Label me and announce my name from the platform if you wish. My eternal life, spirituality, and soul no longer belong to you.

Sincerely,

J.W.

*Real name abbreviated for privacy.

Featured

What You Say

Image Credit: @Syllie

I won’t feel right in this skin till I’m perfect
I’ll find no freedom from this heartbeat unless I’m dead
Affirmation is the gloss of true happiness
That is no easier real than said

Not even the wicked deserve eternal damnation
And my everlasting breath lies in dying
What troubles me now is Evil
But Evil was created in seven days
And a day in a thousand years isn’t why we’re here

These thoughts and pen on paper
Through years upon decades of summers
Here, in old hearts that disappear
Memories writ in sand shift and swell
And now you say this is the reason we are here?

You say ‘I will love you, but not this you,
And not like this’
This hello is just an insincere goodbye
You have four loves in your language
And insist that I must give my penance or I will die?

I say your god is this, Truth and Lie
Your god is Love, and he is Vengeance
Your god is One and he is All
But will he take the Fall?

We Are Stardust

I know where women began
As gods,
As prey not of men 
But of stars

We start at her beginning
So small, like tiny particles adrift in the cosmos
With every horror, she splits into another thousand pieces
Making her smaller in each devastation
Until her center is so tiny that she implodes 
Like snowfall in a storm of creation 
Giving birth to the stars 
A millennia of light 
Her little specks of fire trailing 
Scaling the universe
Painting streaks of blood upon the moon

This is a woman 
Both red and bright 
Splitting all of time and space into fragments 
Giving goddess, god-like,
Woman of the night.

cover art by Vera van den Berg

This Heaven

Featured artwork @Patryk Garrett

Tears tip past midnight
Brightness hangs at noon
His darkness looms
But anything he offers me,
I want to consume.

His strong arms form the stars
Crisp, like fairy leaves in a storm
More beautiful than daylight,
But fragile as the day I was born.

With a song and dance that will never play
This heaven upholds a piece of my pain
Under sheets and shadows,
His kiss promised beneath the rain.

I’ve only ever wanted one thing for myself
And I want to show you his name
Here lies that girl from the woods,
With a wolf’s heart to tame.

Heaven holds a sense of grief
Hands full of desire
All unwanted promises and pleasures,
Will hereto break the fire.

The Moon King’s Castle

A few years ago, I was just about done with planning my return trip to Europe when an acquaintance mentioned a castle tucked somewhere in the mountains of Bavaria. She had me at ‘castle’, but what really intrigued me was the fact that it was the castle Walt Disney had Sleeping Beauty’s castle modeled after. That was it for me! The palace of my little girl dreams. Immediately, the cogs of my imagination began to click and turn. I could walk its halls and fancy grounds. Stand in awe of its magic. Revel in the decadent lifestyle of its ghosts, all the while picturing myself as a blushing bride of that time period. But there was one problem.

The castle was in Germany.

landscape

(countryside of Bavaria from the train)

So I went back to my meticulously detailed itinerary, all thirteen days of it, and wondered how anyone could throw away ideas like the ruins of the Roman Forum, the glitz of the Champs Elysees, or the might of the Tower of London. Truthfully, Germany never really crossed my mind as somewhere I would really enjoy seeing. But I was determined not to miss this opportunity since my thought has always been: ‘when, if ever, will I be back to Europe?’ So I cut a night here and another there and was able to put aside at least a day and a half in Munich, the closest major city to this fairy tale dream, Neuschwanstein Castle.

How To Get There

Flying into Memmingen Airport was the second leg of the trip. It’s a small airport known mostly to low budget airlines like RyanAir, and is about an hour from city centre. There is a train that will take you from the airport into the city’s main hub station Hauptbahnhof for cheap, I would say about 8€ or so for a single ticket.

With less than two days in Munich, there was no time to waste. Even though I had lost a bag along the way, the lovely concierge at the Westin Grand Munich had offered to sacrifice themselves to the airline gods to try and track it down so I could enjoy the next to evenings with a bit more ease.

With nearly no knowledge of the city and zero of the language, I figured the best option to see my dream castle was to book a guided tour through Viator. So my trip was going to be pleasantly hands free. There’s never a missed step with Viator. We met as a group within the train station. We were able to meet our guide, mingle with others in the group or go to the convenience shop just next to us to stock up on bags and bags of Haribo gummy bears and a couple magazines for the train ride.

train to Fussen

The Epic Tale

The train took us into Fussen, an adorably quaint Bavarian town northwest of Neuschwanstein. Surprisingly, this romantic castle was built much closer to our century compared to other Gothic structures in Europe. Work on Neuschwanstein began in 1869. King Ludwig II spent nearly all his personal wealth, and that of the royal family for the building of the castle. Inspired by Richard Wagner’s romantic operas as well as a visit to Warburg Castle in Eisenach, Ludwig was determined to recreate the whimsy he had experienced. So determined, in fact, that the public opinion of him was that he’d lost his damn mind.

NS 1 faraway

The circumstances of his death were and still are a mystery. The doctor whom had been tending to Ludwig’s seemingly delicate mental health was last seen going for a walk along Lake Starnberg with the king at approximately 6:30 P.M. on June 13, 1886. They were declared missing just after 8:00 P.M. After a two hour search in the pouring rain, their bodies were found upturned in the lake. Autopsy ruled Ludwig’s death as a suicide by drowning. Want to know the strangest part? No water was found in his lungs, not to mention he was quite the swimmer. Stranger still, Ludwig’s watch had stopped at 6:54, which would suggest he had drowned when we know he likely died by some other means. So many more eerie details here but I can’t traverse them all on this post. I encourage any interested persons to do some research and share thoughts in the comments.

Portrait of Louis II, King of Bavaria

(Portrait of King Ludwig II)

What I found really interesting about the building of Neuschwanstein were the modern advances, quite a bit ahead of its time. It had a working pipe system! And get this, central air. So you’re saying running water and A/C in a hilltop castle?…I mean, teleport me back to the late 1800’s Bavaria and I promise I will find a way to marry this Ludwig guy (even though he was rumored to be for the other team). The good, possibly crazy ones are always taken, haha.

A Couple of My Favorite Things

  • The walk up to the castle’s entrance.

I loathe to admit this as one of my faves since it involves physical exertion. The tour guide gave the group the option of walking the main road among the horse-drawn carriages (probably not too expensive but the alternative is dodging a trail of horse doo), ride the shuttle (for a nominal fee, but ridiculously long queue), or hiking a narrow trail through the surrounding forest. While the latter sounds adventurous, I pondered the potential of getting lost in a dense forest alone and without cell service. So I joined the tour guide and others on the main poopy road. In hindsight, I should have taken the trail, it would have been epic. The best part of the journey up was the view. Absolutely one of the most gorgeous views I have ever witnessed. Also, despite my phobia of heights, I bravely crossed a roped wooden bridge over a heart-stopping gorge. What can I say? I had a castle waiting for me, it was destiny and so I could cowboy’d up.

  • The throne hall.

As we know, Ludwig ran out of money and supposedly drowned in 1886, so much of the castle is still unfinished and unfurnished to this day. But this particular spot is still stunning. The altar shines like marble. Pillars line the sides of the hall with golden crowns that hold up sharp arches underneath a grand chandelier. Everything is just so decadent.

  • The king’s bedroom.

The extravagance of the furniture here will astonish you. Do yourself the honor of standing in this room and admiring the delicate wood carvings everywhere. Notice the bottom end of the bed. The carving there depicts the resurrection of Christ, a fitting symbol between sleep and death.

ludwig bedroom

  • The grotto.

Have you ever heard of a cave in a castle? Ludwig had a vision of the cave in Wagner’s Tannhauser Saga and wanted a grotto built into the royal residence. It doesn’t get more magical than that.

The Indelible 

            You ever feel so present in the moment, so deep in your own story that the outside world melts away and you are left in the scent of pure romance? Some people pay upwards of $30,000 for such a day, but even then it’s simulated. This was different. The history and romance were not just implied in this place. All the epic stories here were tangible. I stood in the reverent mountains and kneeled at a dais of gold and filigree. Nothing compares.

Please comment and subscribe! Find me on Instagram and Facebook, links below. Adventures are still to come!

The Epichronicler

J. R. Wallington on Instagram

When I Wake Up With You

Image by NanoMortis “Holding For So Long”

When I wake up with you
I wonder if I’ll love a thousand boys before I die
First the boy who is sweet
The next boy that corrupts
The third boy who is beautiful
The last boy that destroys
Who will you be
And how will I die

When I wake up to you
I wonder if it will be the last time I cry
First when a love left
Second when a love left
Third when I realized I was the only one left
Where will you abandon me
And how will I die

When I am with you
I wonder if I’ll ever feel safe in your arms
As I did with my brothers
As I do with my friends
As I used to with him
When will I let you hold me
And how will I die

When I am me
I wonder if you know the kind of person I am
This girl that holds onto words like treasure
The girl who loves quite deeply
That girl who is an unbeliever of magic
Why can’t I stop destroying ‘us’
And how will I die

Flesh

art by @Endling(TheArtingStarvist.)

 

I am flesh
A walking sheath of barbs
The pinpoint of pleasure
Full of every annoying nag
Demanding the deep
Singing it’s real
The only thing I think I feel

Heavy links cuff him
While I am dared to carry them
Whilst I am dared to love him
And at first glance
There is a crave for connection
Affection
Lustation
Frustration
 
All I have is the nothing
Covered by death
I am flesh
Just flesh and blood and bone
So long as the path I walk
Is a sheath of barbs
You are the only thing I think is real

Emeralds

Sun presses against my skin,
I’m feeling a little seasick,
though my feet are solid on the beach.
Looking out on the ocean’s tides,
I see a mysterious figure
against the rocks in the distance.
Emerald eyes drift over the land I stand on,
and I catch her searching gaze.

 
The precarious waves roll against her back.
Cold ocean bites my ankles,
asking if it may consume me.
Her emeralds are calming,
and she knows
I am alone with her.
Yet she is neither afraid nor tense,
but intrigued.

 
Her golden hair mimics a setting sun,
and her skin reveals immortality.
Daringly she sings,
sounding like a thousand angels.
Yet she has no legs for dancing,
nor wings for soaring.

 
Those emeralds stab me.
Her voice invites me there.
She is crying to me.
Moments pass and she turns away,
leaving a waterfall in her wake.
Dreams of shining castles
and sunken ships manifest.
I want to follow her
into a utopia.
To reside in fantasy.
To dream of this no more.
 

I take a step.
And looking down in the water,
reflecting like a crystal mirror,
I remember who I am.
Fearful eyes hold me back,
I’m defeated by the sea.

 
So I breathe in
the deafening sound in my mind.
These waves, violent and unsteady,
would be my end.
I look out again,
cursing my clouded eyes.
I wish to have those emerald eyes,
to be as fearless as I am beautiful.

 

@imagecredit:Leslie Allen “Enchanted Mermaid”

Tonight – tale of the Moon girl

Tonight we bask
Under the pale hue of the moon
Smile in the ray of its glee
Never knowing the sun will rise soon

Tonight we bond
Walking through the grace of silver powdered sand
Feel the promise of gravity around our feet
And feel the breath of life in each other’s hand

Tonight we dream
Laughing with blue stars and singing with an invisible breeze
While we dance in circles
Until one falls and the other leaves

Tonight I remain silent
Watching the rise of the sun’s glare
I risk racing across clouds to find the wind
Only stop to realize it was never there

Tonight I go
Locking the gate of never after to which I belong
Climbing forever and never into the darkness
Whispering the story of a girl with no song

Tonight ends
Where the light went out as with the lie
Breathing roughly in a silence
And I hear the Moon beg the Sun that it does not die

Today I stand
Severing my caged insides apart
Wondering who I am, what I am, why I must go
And where I should start.

Day Jaunt to Bath, England

Oh, how it feels to be in London…eh, honestly, I have mixed feelings about it. London is sort of like this hot ex-boyfriend that you can’t avoid. He took all your money, energy, resources, and sucked the very life out of you materially, but oh boy was he gorgeous. Every. Inch. And then when you’re in his neighborhood (of the great-wide Europe) you can’t help but want to stop by and gawk at him for a day or two. Just because.

I’ve recently gotten questions about my preferred airline when gallivanting off to that side of the world. Personally, I’m a big fan of British Airways. And a really big hater of any type of American airline. Don’t boo me just yet. Every time we’ve flown with a domestic airline, the seats are worn, the carpet is dirty, God knows if they’ve cleaned the lavatory and more importantly, you pay extra for everything. Good ol’ ‘Murica! Just about every European, if not every foreign, airline offers free booze. Well, how can you compare that really? Besides, I really love the little package BA gives you when you get when you sit down and buckle in. You can expect headphones, eye mask, socks, toothbrush and mini-toothpaste, a pencil for that Sudoku game you got in your carry-on and more. It’s like getting your own packed lunch in kindergarten when you’re going on a field trip. The only downside to BA is if you want your seats reserved ahead of time, you have to cough up an extra forty pounds (or more). But hey, if you’re off to London, you might as well fly double-decker style.

mom

My momma…ain’t she beautiful!

Let’s get down to the gritty. There are two ways to discover the ancient city of Bath from London. You can go online and book a roundtrip ticket on the train from London. It can cost anywhere from $60 to $150 USD per person and up, just depending on your class preferences. First-class is always a comfy luxury *wink, wink*. I like to use Rail Europe to book. Be sure to select Bath SPA, Britain in the ‘to:’ box. When searching for fares and schedules, I would recommend traveling from London Paddington station, it’s the main train hub in city centre and a perfect start/end point for your day excursions—especially if you are staying in city centre.

My preferred way to see Bath, as well as a stop at Stonehenge along the way, is via the Stonehenge and Bath Day Trip on Viator. Your first stop will be Stonehenge. I realize some of you might be asking, ‘Why would I want to spend my hard earned money to see a bunch of stones?’ Ah-hah! Good point…Maybe you like stones. Perhaps you even like it when stones are a bit mysterious. *shrugs* Works for me! Also, it caused a nice discussion between Hubby and I on how the stones really got there. It’s just so intriguing! And because sheep. Lots of sheep. I love sheep. They are so fluffy and cute.

A couple of tips to remember on this tour:

  1. Arrive early. Give yourself plenty of time to get to the bus terminal. Trust me, it’s not as easy to find as you may think. Once entering the terminal in London city centre, you may have quite a walk ahead of you to the actual terminal where your tour bus is parked and you wouldn’t want to be late!
  2. Coffee prohibition. No drinks are allowed on the bus (save for your personal water bottle tucked away in your bag). Found this one out the hard way, after Hubby and I spent ten pounds on coffee, tea, and scones all to have it thrown to the waste bin!
  3. Bring a book! Weird, right? I mean, why not stare out the window and take in the beautiful villages and scenery of the English countryside instead of face-planting into a book? Well, if you’re like me, staring out the window for 5+ hours (roundtrip) makes me want to jump off the bus. While moving.
  4. Drink some wine, but not too much. Ugh ok so this might be TMI but I must warn everyone of my folly! Once in Bath, you will be able to break off from the group, walk around the town and sit down at a nice pub for a hearty English lunch. Essentially, Bath is still so much a Roman experience. They came, they saw, they conquered, and they built baths. Tu sei un biacchere de vino! Yeah, I know, I have to work on my Italian. *ahem* My point is, I ordered some wine at the restaurant. And keep in mind, everywhere BUT the USA measures in milliliters. So the menus will say how much wine you can order in milliliters. Heck if I know! Could be that I had nearly three-quarters of a bottle of wine with my lunch. My point is, suggest to the guide that you may need to make a pit stop from Bath back to London. By suggest I mean beg…it’s a three hour trip back and they usually don’t plan to stop in between. Are you squinting your face in horror/disgust? You should be.
  5. Tip the guide and driver. Tipping is not a city in China. And even if it is, you’re not in China. You’re in England, so be nice.