Your willingness to serve and to restrain when possible from things should speak volumes to your bishop.Here's the problem: I still use the word "gay." If I were to simply say, "I am no longer gay," I would be welcomed with open arms and thrown out the window to serve a mission.
It doesn't matter the status of my heart or my testimony of God and the Church. It doesn't matter how chaste I am or how strictly I abide the rules of the Church, I will never be equal to my heterosexual counterpart in the eyes of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I'm just being honest.
So, why the hell am I here, sitting within the walls of the LDS Church?
Right now, I am feeling dark.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling bitter about what is being said or anything like that.
Frustrated, yes. Disheartened, yes. But not bitter or angry.
I'm just feeling dark, and I haven't felt this way since... well, truth be told, since I was last sitting within the walls of the LDS Church.
It is a horrible, familiar feeling. A demon that sat on my shoulder most of my life. A demon that left when I walked away from the Church for a season. A demon that returned in my Bishop's office last Wednesday.
A demon that I had forgotten.
When I told my mom that I wanted to serve a mission, I said, "Didn't see that one coming, did you?"
Her response: "Well, you've had such a great countenance lately..."
Ironic, isn't it? At least to the Mormon's ardent belief that the Church is where the greatest countenance root. Here I am, within the walls of the Church, and my countenance is dropping. I can feel it.
My heart has shivers of coldness.
My spirit feels heavy and shackled.
My mind feels cloudy and indifferenced.
This is not the life I found outside of the LDS Church.
What the hell am I doing here?
... there will be much soul-searching to do these next few weeks...