Real Men Stick Around

Real Men Stick Around

Those words resonate with me, as there was a time when they saved my life. You see, I was born into Jehovah’s Witnesses. My family was not a background member; no, we were the ones on the stage at conventions, leading departments, moving where the need was great, building Kingdom Halls, setting the example, pioneering, going to Bethel, Watchtower construction, etc. It was no wonder that I was appointed as an elder at 27, as it was what I had lived for all my life. Just three years later, I became the Presiding Overseer in a congregation of eleven elders. Behind the scenes, I had helped fellow elders older than me weather difficult times. The congregation was set on a good course, with an annual report of 100% at all meetings and an eleven-hour average in field service for all publishers. Apparently I was doing my job.

I thought I was with men who had my back, for the love and effort I had shown them in saving their marriages, being there when they were sick, and just being a friend. Well, all good things seem to have an end. Mine came when an elder from my congregation moved to another congregation. We had had problems with him involving shady business, and other things that ultimately led to allegations of molestation. The body refused to recommend him to be reappointed. He contested the refusal. When this happens, a “Special Committee” is appointed to review all the elder’s qualifications in the original congregation. The men appointed to that committee were longtime enemies of my father, and they were out for revenge.

I called the Service Desk and explained the background and why this was going to be a hanging of me. The anonymous brother on the line just said, “Brother Bowen, you just need to trust in Jehovah…” I said after a long pause, “OK, let’s just see what happens.”

A normal special committee lasts for two weeks. This one went for five months with these small men looking for any excuse to delete me as an elder. For me, it was fighting for truth and against the corruption of a paid-off Circuit Overseer, who told the new congregation to make him an elder anyway.

While this was going on, my personal life was a hurricane. My wife was pregnant and was bleeding the entire time. She had to stay bedridden, or we would lose the baby. We had already had a miscarriage the year before. I worked as a manager in a large office, and the company was putting great pressure on me for more production. At the doctor’s office, it was discovered that I had walking pneumonia. It was like life was coming at me from all sides, but at least I knew my fellow elders had my back, since they knew I would have taken a bullet for them.

Before the final meeting, I asked the four most prominent elders to write a letter stating why I should remain an elder. They all four did, and I had those letters with me for the final meeting. The SC called all the elders except me into the back room. They told them that if anyone stood up for me, they would be deleted as well. So all the elders came out with their heads down. The SC announced my deletion. I stood up and said, “will no one stand by what you wrote???”, silence.

I walked out with a far greater loss than just remaining an elder. Then men I would have trusted with my very life, all betrayed me. It cut me to the heart in ways I cannot fully explain.

The congregation had no clue what was going on; I was treated like a disfellowshipped person by my fellow elders. They even met with me afterward and said they would get me back, but acted otherwise. When I asked about the letters, they said they meant them but did not wish to get deleted. Just a bunch of cowards. I was broken inside and went into deep depression. I could not think, work, I felt I was good for nothing. I had a million dollar life insurance policy that was past the two year suicide clause. My son was due in two weeks, and I reasoned a million dollars could give him a much better future than I was capable of at this moment.

I had the gun, it was in my mouth, all I had to do was pull the trigger and this pain would all go away. Then I thought about my son being born and never knowing his father. Would money really make it okay? I just could not do that to him. In my mind, the words came to me: “Real men stick around”…. I put the gun away. Every time I wanted the pain to end, I just kept repeating those words over and over again.

The doctor said that due to my wife’s illness, my son would be sickly and underweight. She lost thirty pounds during the pregnancy due to not being able to eat. Yet, when my son was born, he was 9.9 on the Apgar scale, and he weighed 7.9 pounds.

Rexott Nathaniel Bowen

It’s funny; I swore I would never name my child a Bible name, but I gave his middle name Nathaniel, which means “gift from God.” I truly felt this was my reward for sticking around. I can truthfully say that my son saved my life because he was the reason I went through the pain and kept going.

I think all fathers have that moment when they just want to escape the difficulty and pain of life, but we are the ones who say quietly to ourselves, “Real men stick around” and that’s what makes us the dads we are.

Rex, you saved my life. I am proud of the man you are and the father that you will someday be.

I’m glad I stayed around.