In Part 1 and Part 2 of my posts on my relationship with God I went from early childhood up to my decision to get baptized at the age of 16. I had been close to God and far from God but ultimately decided I agreed with his plan for the earth and decided to dedicate myself to him whether he wanted me or not.

Baptism is a big deal. After baptism you are more than just a kid trying to make God happy, you have responsibilities as a member of his spiritual family. I was told by my father that my day of baptism would be the single most important day of my life, more important than getting married even. Once I had decided to go through with it I prayed a lot. I behaved myself, ending my double life. I felt clean, pure, forgiven. I felt like I was getting another chance and Jehovah was happy. It’s odd, I think I remember actually feeling like he was smiling on me.

I was excited on the day of my baptism. It was at the Mayo Civic Center in Rochester MN. I wondered what it would be like, to come up from the water charged with holy spirit, renewed, restored, reinvigorated. I sat down in front of the stage with the other baptismal candidates instead of my with my family, something I had seem others do so many times before. I stood and gave affirmative answers to the questions they asked, along with the rest. I went back to a locker room and changed into swim trunks and a t-shirt, got in line and when my turn came, I stepped into the pool held my breath and got dunked.

While underwater for only a second or so I was really trying to see if I felt different during the experience. I was trying to sense the spiritual jolt or presence that would let me know something big had happened. When I came out of the water and heard the audience applauding and thought of my family watching with tears in their eyes and thought of Jehovah finally being proud of me again, I was sure I felt it. I was exhilarated. The feeling only intensified over the course of the afternoon as friends congratulated me and my father said, “Today you are not only my son, but also my brother” and hugged me, crying. My new relationship with God formed that day. I was no longer to doubt him or test him. I was his sworn servant, he was my boss.

This was, in essence, the nature of my relationship with God over the next 14 years. My feelings that I was a bad person acting good were still there quite often and I still wasn’t perfect but I felt like Jehovah and I had a general understanding of each other. He knew that I meant well and that I would stumble but I would get back up, dust myself off, and put him first in mind. When my girlfriend and I lost control and had pre-marital sex, I went to the elders and turned myself in and followed all the rules God had set up within the congregation for such situations. I even married her, because I was pretty sure that’s what he wanted me to do since I had already slept with her. Later on when she didn’t want to be a Witness anymore and was talking about having an open marriage I took Jehovah’s side again and told her I couldn’t make her believe in God but that I still did and that I wouldn’t cross certain moral lines. When my mother and best friend both left the Witnesses I sided with Jehovah and shunned them as I was told to do by the Watchtower. I was always a bit of an up-and-down sort of Witness, flirting with inactivity one month, giving short notice talks and going out in service all the time the next month. But Jehovah understood where I was coming from. He and I had a history, you know. He didn’t expect that I be perfect, just that I keep trying, and that’s what I did.

This dynamic lasted through my first marriage, through a wild and crazy bachelor period and into my second marriage. I have to admit that I was never entirely comfortable with the arrangement as I never believed God would let me live through Armageddon. I always figured I was doomed but that I was gonna do the right thing regardless. I also figured Jehovah knew that was how I looked at it and must be OK with it, but I never knew for sure that he was OK with it so I didn’t ever assume I was in the clear.

Three years into my second marriage, my relationship with God was being put under intense strain. My wife was extremely phobic of groups of people and leaving the house so we almost never interacted with our congregation or went door to door. She also had very worldly attitudes about many things, including sex, drugs and alcohol and our life was not a model of Godly Decency. I fought her on some things, humored her on some things and joined her on some things. I was not able to balance out the things I did wrong, however, with the things I did right. I was not keeping up my half of the bargain and I started to feel pretty awful and guilty. I tried over and over again to step up my efforts to cling to Jehovah, even going so far as to call into the meetings and listen to them in the bedroom on speakerphone with my wife. Still, my immersion in the world of the Witnesses was less and less. I was no longer sure that Jehovah even paid attention to what was going on my little corner of the world. He became more and more a distant thing.

Then one day, a new doubt popped into my head and this one I couldn’t shake. Next up, the breakup.

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