Underwear and the Better Man

I like my underwear.

Yes, I am going write a little on my underwear. And by "on" I mean "about". I haven't written "on" my underwear since the 4th grade where I had to print my name on them so my older sisters would not use them for craft projects.

It's better if you don't ask.

Clean sheets, clean underwear, a good book, lemon drops & skim milk. Um-hum. Add good reading lighting. Sounds like a good plan to me.

The underwear I wear are Mormon Garments. I have worn them since the day before I went though the temple when I was 19. The day before the temple because I was so excited that I slipped them on before I went to bed in anticipation of being a man. All the real men I knew wore them. It was a rite of passage for me – looking back on it. After I went through the temple, I felt differently. Nothing huge or shattering. But cleaner. More grounded. More purposed. The thrill I had for wearing garments developed into something a little more practical. They were symbolic of the love I felt from my Heavenly Father. They meant something. They still do.

I hear friends out of the church talk about the “Magic Mormon underwear”. Mitt Romney and his Magic Mormon Underwear. I've heard the jokes and unbelievable wedding night horror stories. I don't care. I'm in the know.

My Garments are a reminder to me that I have made promises to my Father. I did that the day I went to the temple and I am reminded of those promises every time I put on a fresh pair. If I follow my commitments to Father, he promises protection both physically and spiritually. Its not just a pair of underwear. It is a promise.

When I was in the Missionary Training Center my companion and I has a room with two other guys. Before bed we would, as a floor of missionaries, meet in the great room for prayer. Most, who just slept in their underwear showed up with sweats or pajama bottoms. After a week or so one of the elders pointed out, in a kind way, that out of respect for what the garments represented we should cover them more that we had been covering. And. Of coarse, he did so and had always been doing so. I respected him greatly. My companion and I respectfully made sure we were clad appropriately for the occasion – robes, pajamas, tee shirt etc. We honored our floor leader and the Lord be doing so.

They were holy. They were "magical", I suppose for lack of a better worldly term, for the strength we gathered from the wearing. Not a power to stop bullets or - plow through a defencive line - kind of strength. They made us want to be better men. All of us40 elders or so without a designated leader helping each other and praying nightly for guidance together One heart and mind. Shoulder to shoulder. There was/is "magic", or spirit, or power in that.

Gay Mormon Men of the priesthood, if you are able, wear your garments. Strive to obtain the protection promised to us as we fulfill our promises to Him. I may not understand the metaphysical involved. I do believe in priesthood power and that garments are a physical manifestation of it.

If we do as He asked, we will be better men.