(From Sunday morning) I’m sitting on the couch in my new apartment with my Clean and Pore Cleansing Mask on thumbing through a book, and listening to music before I get ready for church. For some reason my thoughts have been turned towards the last year of my life and the promises God has made me, the small stirrings of the Spirit that I’ve felt, and generally the love that He, the Author of Our Salvation, has for us.
I remember when I finally believed I was worthy of the love of God.
I remember when I was sitting in the baptistery of the Salt Lake Temple my thoughts had been turned to Him and the plan of salvation when I felt the very distinct impression, “This is so much more rewarding than being with a man.”
One month later I had my first gay kiss—there is my problem, I don’t trust the person I know who has the power to save me. Now I’m to a point where I know how [physically] rewarding a homosexual relationship can be, and I’m having a hard time leaving the middle ground that, albeit painful, is ever so comfortable and feels safe.
Another moment happened a few months ago when I was at By a Single Thread’s house visiting. I was looking around and felt yet another impression that I’ve previously blogged about, “AtP, one day you will be happy.”
The moments of complete and total peace like those I’ve mentioned above haven’t been as frequent as I would like, but I can’t deny that they have been there and they have divine origin.
I have all of these thoughts and ridiculously general feelings that I was attempting to communicate with this partially written post and I can’t get it out, I can’t get my mind around what I’m trying to say—so frustrating. So I’m going to publish this post, and try to sleep.