Vocab word of the day? Disfellowshipped

It is late on a snowy Christmas Eve and the little car I borrowed to deliver the letter doesn't want to start in this icy cold weather. I go to the house that is still lit up and knock on the door. It is a mom and dad putting together Christmas presents for their kids who are fast asleep in their rooms. I ask to borrow their phone, as this is 1992 and cell phones were not around yet. They let me in, asking no questions, and let me call for a ride. They allow me to wait in their home while my ride comes for me. I help them put together a train set around the tree. I have never done these things before. I feel guilty helping them with Christmas presents. Then I remember the letter I just delivered. I choke back some tears and help them until my friends show up.

The letter I hand-delivered to an elder in my congregation basically went something like this:

Dear Elders,

I know you want to talk to me about events that occurred this summer and my lack of attendance to meetings. I don't want to talk to you in person, I'm not going to sit in front of three men and be judged. So here's what you need to know. Yes, I've been getting drunk, smoking cigarettes, having premarital sex, doing illicit drugs including pot and LCD and shrooms. I don't plan on stopping. I'm not remorseful. So go ahead and kick me out. 

Sincerely,

Amy Pettit

That was 22 years ago and it was the first time I had been disfellowshipped from my parent's church. I was raised Jehovah's Witness. Daughter of an elder, daughter of a pioneer. To the outside world, that doesn't mean much, so allow me to translate: I was the preacher's daughter. I was expected to set an example. Epic, beyond epic fail. I think maybe I was an outlaw in my last life because I never much liked authority and never followed along very well. Not like my sister, who to this day is the daughter who came through for my parents. Married a good JW boy, provided a church sanctioned grandchild, etc. Then there was me. Me who ran away at six, told my dad to go screw himself at 14, and completely disappointed them by getting my ass kicked out of the church at 18 and then again at 21. 

Keep in mind, I am not physically kicked out of any Kingdom Hall (JW's church). I can walk into any one of them and attend a meeting. However, if anyone were to approach me, I would need to let them know that I am disfellowshipped right away because they are not allowed to talk to me. I am shunned. I have had some of them literally take a wide step around me, as if I was contagious with mad cow disease. Does this include my family as well? Yes. They are not allowed to speak to me, except for in emergencies. My sister hasn't spoken to me in 19 years. I have a 16 year old niece I've never met. I wonder what they tell her about me sometimes. 

So yeah, I got allowed back in once. Once again, my rebellious nature got the best of me and I got disfellowshipped again when I was 21. I've never been back. Since that time I've been married to two men and one woman. I've been to prison. I've graduated from college. I've busted my ass to figure this world out after being raised in a bubble, or as I like to call it, a cult. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night gripped in fear that my parents are right and I'm fucked and god is going to zap me when Armageddon pops off. 

Then rational thought returns. Armageddon is not not coming. The meek are not going to inherit and restore the entire planet back to an Edenesque paradise. The dead are not going to be resurrected. There are not 144,000 Jehovah's Witnesses going to heaven. Yes, that exact number. I don't know what is going to happen, but I feel fairly certain it's not the aforementioned scenario. And if I'm wrong? I'll probably being holding up both middle fingers while I get zapped.