I've always lived under the premise that God loves me. Truth be told, I still basically believe that. But that He likes me? Mmmmm, can't say that I'm so sure and I'm going to express why.
'Bout a year ago, I was called in to my LDS Bishop's office and was asked to be a teacher of 8-11 year-old Mormon children. This was satisfactory on many levels: It basically required a small amount of preparation, I like kids of that age and it kind of made me get out of bed and go to church every week.
When I got called in to the Bishop's office and given the assignment, I told the Bishop, whose name I will not put on this Internet (See? I am growing up. A year ago I'd have totally put him on blast!)that I had been very nervous that he was going to make me the Scoutmaster. He kind of laughed and asked me why I would be nervous about that. I explained that I, although an Eagle Scout, do not see the huge value in the Scouting program, that my Scout skills have eroded if they ever existed, that I can't sleep without a CPAP Maching that requires electricity to run, and that I drive a VW Beetle that not only has everyone thinking I'm gay but also only fits the cargo of 1/2 of a grown male. The Bishop kind of laughed and assured me that I had nothing to worry about. I breathed easy and left the office, happy enough with my new calling.
I believe that at that exact moment there is a 70 percent chance the Bishop let Satan into his heart and into his mind. That's the only way I can come to grips with what happened about 4 months later.
The Bishop called me again and said: "I'm calling you to be Scoutmaster."
My family has taught me enough about the guilt trip to know that I basically had to say yes. I gotta go home so I'm gonna finish this reeeeeally quickly:
Being the Scoutmaster has mostly sucked, but has had a few good moments. I like the kids, and that's about it.
I guess the moral is that which we run from, we run to.