When, near the end, the patriarch solemnly proclaimed that I was "one of Heavenly Father's special sons," I subconsciously added, "Just like everyone else." With only a few exceptions (those mentioning my current military service) the words could have described LDS expectations for every young man. In short, I got a cookie-cutter, cut-and-paste string of paragraphs so well-worn that ninety percent of the blessing was recycled from the one my older brother got. I didn't even get an interesting lineage. More important, where was the nifty stuff? Where was the stunning revelation that I helped kick/push/drag Lucifer out of heaven? Why couldn't I have been promised a hundred wives in the Celestial Kingdom? Why couldn't he have made me an elite soldier in the final siege against Jerusalem? How about letting me assassinate the Antichrist? Somebody has to do it. Such scattershot inaccuracy cannot be chalked up to coincidence.
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