Thank You President Packer for Another Nail in my Closet Door.

I'm stunned.

I'm saddened.

From the very beginning of President Packer's talk there was a frosty chill sweeping down from the Conference pulpit. Even his voice was hard; like Billy Bob Thornton in Sling Blade.

I had been looking forward to Conference. My family got together early for breakfast and the we all settled into our favorite spots to watch. I sat there with my mom, brothers and sisters and literally thought "Damn, you can forget about coming out to them any time soon." I got up after he spoke and excused myself. The rest of that session I spent driving around angry in the hills, listing on the radio.

Darth Vader's theme from Star Wars should have been playing while he spoke.

Sleep well President Monson.

 Wide awake again.

Its the middle of the night, and my thoughts won't settle.

I'm not in the mood to read, and on television there's nothing but the old Three Stooges reruns and juicer infomercials.

Finally my mind shifts to another man; a stranger I've met only once. Is President Monson sleeping comfortably this hour, or is he restless as well? I pray he is sleeping. I pray that he is well rested, and able to find the right words when he speaks. Words that will heal wounds and make things right.

I hope they are words that will help me to understand, and settle my restless heart.