Two or three hours after my post last week, the missionaries knocked on my door. They were new and looking for my roommate, who wasn't home. I thought that when I told them that they would leave, but the senior companion has been out for quite a while and he asked if they could come in and share a message with me. I said yes.
They came in, they sat down, and they wanted to start with a hymn. I chose "Lead Kindly Light," which has (ironically) been my favorite for some years now. We chatted a little, and I felt a bond with the younger one, a writer. At the end, I asked them to read something from the Beatitudes for their spiritual thought. For some reason he only read the first two, which was a shame. I think they're beautifully written, and I love hearing beautiful words read.
It turned out that last week's post was the inoculation I needed, because my belief and my confidence didn't shiver.
It did remind me of the pretty and pleasant parts of Mormonism, though, and I went to the church the next day. It was stake conference and everyone was gone, but I had beautiful walk in the hills and then I sat in a coffee shop and read for a few hours, so I was happy.
I finally finished reading Atlas Shrugged. It was an ugly but powerful book.
"Francisco, what's the most depraved type of human being?"
"The man without a purpose."