D-Train’s Sooners won big, my adopted-hometown Badgers are still undefeated, and it’s the final weekend of regular season baseball. True, this is very sad, but what a way to go out: on Friday, we had 3 AL teams trying for two spots and now, because the Tribe utterly chocked, it’s all over and we know who are in the playoffs. Plus, Green Bay is playing on Monday night, so they weren’t embarrassing (yet).
Oh, and apparently General Conference was this weekend.
Not being, you know, Mormon, I have no guilt about not listening to three and a half sessions. Heck, it’s probably a good thing that I listened to as much as I did. Of course, I was listening on my computer while watching the gamecasts of the Chicago-Cleveland and Boston-New York games, so it’s debatable how much I actually got from it. Also, I’m a visual person, so I’ll be waiting until they post the transcripts to really get into it.
I mean, I kinda like conference. Hated it growing up; when my devout grandmother would be visiting and would have to watch it so my sister and I couldn’t watch what we wanted to watch. But now—eh. It’s mostly good. I have a great deal of respect for almost all the men and women that speak at conference. In the top fifteen, there are only two towards which I have an aversion. But, man, I like hearing Pres. Hinckley talk. I think Steve said it best.
But—and there’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there?—there was one part that made me sad. I don’t know who said it (but I’ve heard it many times), but one speaker spoke about how the gospel is open for all that desire it. Now, and I don’t mean to be all that bitter, this isn’t true. On my personal blog, back in the day
, I wrote about my history with the church. The short of it is: I finally got to a place where I could accept the church as The Church, prayed about it—which everyone says to do—but didn’t receive any sort of confirmation or burning in the bosom or anything like that. I don’t want to actually discuss why or anything like that—no, I’ve contemplated that far too much as it is—but can I just relate how simply frustrating and disheartening the experience was?
It was very frustrating and very disheartening. Nay—it is
I stick around, participate in the nacle, think about this stuff—all because I got this feeling that there’s something too it. And perhaps I’m wrong (though I’m sure you’d disagree with that), but at very least it’s worth pursuing. I have before, and it didn’t turn out like I expected. But maybe it’s worth trying again. I don’t know: it’s late, I’m sick, and the OTC drugs are messing with my head. For now though, at least until I wake up tomorrow, I’m going to try again, for GC and GBH have inspired me. For a week, at least. After that, who knows? A man can only take so much rejection.