I was once asked a question I surprisingly had never truly dived into. What was different about the first time I met with the bishop when coming back to church? Why did I come back?
I’ve written about some of the coincidences leading to me getting to the Bishop’s office and ultimately coming back to church. But how did I stay? Coming back once, for a fleeting moment of revival, that’s easy. What really brought me back?
I wrote in The Inspiration about cancelling that first appointment with the bishop. That appointment eventually got rescheduled.
I remember walking into Bishop Thurston’s office. It was a small room, like most bishop’s offices. I believe there was a picture of the First Presidency, and Christ. At other points in my life both pictures might have made me feel uncomfortable, unworthy, judged. Maybe not the picture of Christ. His image has always brought me warmth, if not alongside guilt.
I remember being so nervous. What were we going to talk about? It had been almost 10 years since I sat in a bishop’s office. Was he going to grill me? Was I going to have to confess all my sins? Was this going to be a moment I looked back on in disgust? Was he going to judge me? Was he going to wonder what brought this messed up individual into his office?
And then he smiled. He shook my hand.
If you’ve seen the smile of Kody Thurston, you know it. If you’ve seen the smile of a loving bishop anywhere in this world, you know this smile. They’re the same anywhere.
He asked me to sit and I believe he offered the prayer. Then we started to talk. I remember not knowing what to do with my hands, I was fiddling with them in my lap. I remember looking down a lot. Every time I looked up he would be looking right at me.
We talked about where I’d been, where I was going, my family. We got to know each other. I don’t remember much about the exact conversation. I do remember what I didn’t feel, judged.
Then he asked the question, I think it was, “Do you have anything you need to talk about?” It was a loaded question, but it didn’t feel like it. I knew if I said no he would move on.
I had come into that room with zero intention of confessing my sins and opening my heart to a stranger. Then this strange thing happens in a room with a person who has been sent and commissioned by Jesus Christ for this very purpose. There’s a feeling in a room when the spirit is there. It’s overwhelming. I didn’t say much. I implied some things; I got some things off my chest. He didn’t ask much. He moved forward. That’s what I remember. Moving forward.
I talk about no coincidences. I know it wasn’t a coincidence that I came back at that time. Maybe it’s an excuse for me taking so long, but I know that God knew who and what I needed when I came back. I firmly believe that God waited until I was ready and put Bishop Thurston in a position to be there when I was ready. I don’t think I would have made it without him.
When I was getting ready to leave, he said he wanted to see me again soon, within the week. He told me to reach out to his assistant and schedule it soon. He told me to tell his assistant to make it happen in the next week no matter what, even if I had to come to his house. That’s another thing I’ll never forget. Come to his house? Why did this stranger want to see me again so soon?
I was once asked what made me come back? Love. Love made me come back. I knew when I left that office, without a shadow of a doubt, that the stranger I just met cared about me so deeply. Is that something I could know? I guess not, I couldn’t know it. He could have been faking it. The reason it has stuck with me, and the reason I came back, is because it wasn’t something I knew, it was something I felt. Like testimony or faith, it was something I couldn’t deny and something I’ll never forget. At the end of that meeting I felt like I’d just met somebody who would do anything in his power, anything he possibly could, to help me. I felt the love of Jesus Christ for me, displayed through this stranger so potently, with such power.
I left that office feeling good. I’ll admit something. I tried to keep it together. I really tried. I drove away from the building. I pulled over within a minute. I cried and I cried. It was like the love I wouldn’t allow myself to feel Christ giving me for so long poured over me with such intensity. I cry today thinking about it.
Those first few weeks coming back were really hard. Really, really hard. When it got to feel like too much to continue on that path, like I couldn’t do it, I thought about the love I felt that day. I thought about that little bishop’s office where I felt something, and my heart changed. I thought about the moment in my car after. I realized I never wanted to be without that love, ever again. That’s what brought me back and kept me coming back.
Love is powerful.
No Coincidences 