A Little Ground of the Back and the Front
So, many people may ask me, Mike, why did you decide to create this slice of World Wide Web loveliness? Or they may not ask me. I guess it just depends on a) whether or not you actually read this blog, and b) how inquisitive you choose to be.
The answer to that question is, I’m honestly not sure. Haven’t quite nailed down the exact reason. And why should I? You’re not the boss of me! I suppose it (said point) may come to me at some point, but maybe not. It’s probably like the fabled Meaning of Life. A lot of people may think they know what it is, when in reality it’s probably something far different.
Growing up in the LDS church, we were always taught that journaling is important. It’s vital to leave a record for one’s posterity so they can learn from you. Well, I decided to be a bit more global. And hell, I may not have any posterity, so I may as well give the opportunity to anyone who may happen across this page. Even if no one ever reads what I post here, it’s good to know it’s available for oh, say, that gay LDS kid who feels really alone and at the end of his or her rope. Not that I look at myself as a Gay Youth Savior or anything like that, but I figure if I can reach even one person with my experiences, so much the better.
To be frank, I hesitated slightly airing all this stuff out publicly. I know a lot of the things that go through my head aren’t exactly for everyone. My family, for instance, probably isn’t too aware that I made the decision to exit the LDS church officially. While I know this may hurt them, and they may have many questions, the bottom line is, I need to be true to my feelings and what I know is right. Me and God? We’re golden. I have a better relationship with the Man Upstairs than I ever did while I was going to church. My decision to resign isn’t one I made rashly. I just cannot in good conscience affiliate myself with an organization that believes the way I live my life isn’t good enough for God. I can’t live my life believing that.
I believe one’s relationship with God is a deeply personal thing. As I have said many times to many people, I don’t believe God expects us to worship him in a building or partake of bread and water in order to be closer to Him. I don’t think He thinks less of us if we aren’t on our knees day and night praying to Him. I think He likes it when we check in once in awhile though. And I hear He appreciates a good joke or funny anecdote. After all, He’s given US plenty of them. I think what’s most important to God is that we do the best we can with the cards we are dealt, and just try to be good people. The overcomplication of God has given birth to wars, murder, terrorism, legislation of morals, and, let’s face it…bad hairdos.
In order for me to get through daily life, I have to hold strong to the belief that God has one hell of a sense of humor. What? You want some evidence? Alright. Consider the following: Richard Simmons. Dennis Rodman. The Fat Twins on Bikes. Butt Plugs. The Venus Flytrap. The Vibrator That Plugs Into Your iPod. Whoopee Cushions. The Fatty Patty Blowup Doll. Lindsay Lohan. Olive and Pimento Loaf. Pugs. Haggis. Man Boobs. Creepy Porcelain Dolls. Pamela Anderson. Cheez-Whiz. Juicy Couture. Breast Implants. Girls Gone Wild. The list could go on and on and on. You may be saying to yourself, Well, most of these things were invented by man, including Lindsay Lohan. That may be true, but from my perspective, God definitely played a hand in being the muse for them. Why do I bring this up? Maybe to plant a little seed to illustrate that maybe God isn’t quite as uptight as everyone makes Him out to be.
So, I guess the bottom (hehe bottom) line here is, there may be things that I write here that leave you with a bad taste in your mouth. To that I say, brush your teeth, gargle some mouthwash or chew some gum. I guarantee if you stick around, you’re probably going to learn more about me than you ever wanted (or didn’t want) to know. I’ve decided not to hold back here.
So sit a spell. Break out some Red Vines. Light up a smoke. Pour me a drink.