No Coincidences

Tag: repentance

  • How did I get here?

    How did I get here?

    What is my goal in writing this blog?

    Hopefully to uplift someone, anyone.  Believer, nonbeliever.  Member of the Church of Jesus Christ, member of any church, member of no church.  I’d like to teach people who know nothing about this faith some of what I believe.  I’d like to share with members of my faith the things that have impacted my testimony.

    Recently a new motivation has emerged.  With a daughter on the way I realize one day she can read all this.  Whether or not anyone reads any of this.  One day my daughter might.

    Right now, I’m posting individual posts that are unrelated to each other.  Mostly my thoughts and musings.  As I post more, I plan on categorizing posts into certain sections.  If someone could come to this page and read a quick one to two-page entry and leave slightly uplifted, that’s my ultimate goal.  Most of my writing I hope to be somewhat thought provoking.  Just things I’ve thought about or ideas and concepts that have really impacted me and changed the way I’ve looked at life.

    I hope for this to be informational.  I was greatly impacted by the writing of a man, John Pontius.  As I read more, I’m impacted by the writings of many people who took the time to put thoughts on paper.  Maybe something I write one day will help someone.  I also hope to discuss what I feel makes the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ special.  I hope for people not of my faith to read, and maybe have something stirred in their souls.  Something that reminds them of where they came from, and maybe have a desire to learn more about Christ’s Church and what makes it so important. 

    As I write I’ll share a lot about me.  I wanted a section to describe, briefly, who I am and how I got here.

    Anybody reading on my page will immediately notice the strong religious theme.  It’s what I think about most.  For a portion of my life, it was not this way.


    About me:

    I was born in Payson, Utah in 1990.  I moved to St. George, Utah when I was ~5.  I moved to Las Vegas, Nevada when I was ~9.  I lived in three houses from ages 9 to 18 in Las Vegas.  We moved a lot and that was always difficult for me while growing up.  

    History – Payson
    Payson, Utah
    The Establishment & History of St. George - Greater Zion
    St. George, Utah
    New Luxury Homes for Sale in Las Vegas, NV | Shadow Point
    Las Vegas, Nevada

    In 2009 I moved to Arizona to go to Arizona State University.  I decided early on I didn’t want to go to UNLV (University of Nevada Las Vegas) or UNR (University of Nevada Reno).  I wanted to get out of Nevada, I wanted a fresh start.  I had no family in Arizona.  Las Vegas wasn’t far, but I would be completely on my own.

    I still remember when I was driving to Arizona for orientation with my mom.  She got sick on the way and we stopped.  I think we were in Boulder City, about an hour into the drive.  I took her to the emergency room.  My dad drove there to be with my mom.  I had to be at orientation the next morning.  I drove to Arizona by myself.  It was the first time I’d driven that kind of distance alone and was symbolic of me becoming independent.

    I went to ASU for five semesters.  I studied construction management.  I always did well in high school with minimal effort.  I’m one of those obnoxious individuals who brags about never studying in high school.  Boy did I learn my lesson once I got to college.  My grades, with zero work ethic and desire, quickly reflected my effort.  It didn’t help that I soon realized I wasn’t interested in what I was studying.  Construction management can be interesting, but it wasn’t for me.  There’s only so much I could take learning about the strength of concrete.

    The College Dropout Turns Fifteen — Scene+Heard
    Like if you get the reference

    My junior year I officially dropped out of college with (of course) the intention of going back and finishing once I found my passion.  I say “of course” because that’s what we all say.  During school I found that I was much more interested in parties, poker, and basketball than I was in learning about safety standards of construction sites.  When I stopped going to school I continued to live on campus and enjoy college life, minus the higher education part.  I spent a full year couch surfing.  I’m sheepish to admit now, but I look back fondly on that year.  It was a year spent staying up until 5am, waking up at 1pm, sneaking into the student rec center to play basketball, getting food, finding a party, rinse/repeat.  It may sound like a pathetic use of time but it’s something I think I needed to experience.

    If my daughter ever reads this – not everyone needs to experience this.  That’s part of why I’m writing.  To show that I made mistakes and lived life a certain way.  Ultimately, I can’t regret it because it eventually got me to where I am today.  I have learned through my own experiences where true happiness exists.  True happiness comes from serving others, giving yourself to something bigger than yourself.  True happiness comes from loving others.  I had to go a round-about way to learn what’s important in life.  Not everyone has to make things as difficult as I made things for myself.

    During my time couch surfing, I was working odd jobs here and there to have enough money for food and extra-curricular activities.  I went to Utah near the end of this adventure for some “soul searching.” After “finding myself,” or not finding myself, I ended up back in Arizona working as a helpdesk tech for two companies.  I went with one of those companies 3 years later when they switched offices and took over as the Systems Administrator.  I now (as of 2020) work for a managed services provider supporting various companies with their technology needs. 

    As I write this blurb about my journey and my past, many thoughts come to mind of what I learned along the way.  I might refer back to this when I need a topic to write about.  Like my lack of desire studying something I wasn’t passionate about or the years spent partying and what that taught me about what I want out of life.

    Faith-wise, I started falling away from the church, due to my choices, when I was 16.  I always had a testimony of this restored church, of Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and Jesus Christ.  That never changed.  Despite my many mistakes and many wrong decisions, I always knew it was true.  When I went to ASU I lost contact with the church completely.  It amazes me to look back and realize I didn’t even know where the church building/institute building/anything related to the church was on campus.  It’s like I’d lost connection with that part of me.

    Throughout the years I’d attempt half-heartedly to return to church.  It never stuck.  I was completely inactive from about 18-25.  Seven long years of inactivity.

    As of this year, 2020, I’ve been back at church for four years and never been happier.  I hope to express through my writing the joy the gospel has brought me and share some of my experiences that can maybe help others.  That’s the hope.  I’ve felt drawn to writing these entries so if one person is helped it’s a major win.

    And if all these hopes fail, I’ll at least be able to look back on everything I’ve written.  One day I can show my daughter and she can know I always believed.  She can see it wasn’t always easy.  She can see life has ups and downs, but it will work out.  Have faith.  That makes this worth writing.

  • Jonah and the Whale

    Jonah and the Whale

    Answer to prayer – but not what you expect!

    One of the most spiritual experiences I ever had, referenced in the post You Sent a Dog to Comfort a Boy, happened in the basement of my Aunt and Uncle’s home.  Go read the post to get some back story on why I was there, ie soul searching.

    During that trip, by some coincidence, my cousin had his farewell to go on his mission.  I went to the farewell and I felt stuff.  I felt an urge.  I felt guidance.  I came to Utah to search my soul and here it was. 

    That night I went back to the bedroom I’d been staying in.  With just Bengie (my aunt, uncle, and cousin’s dog) in the room I knelt, and I prayed.  I prayed like I hadn’t in so long.  I asked what I was supposed to do.

    Have you heard the story of Jonah and the whale?  For those who don’t know, the Bible tells us that Jonah, a prophet of God, was commanded to go to Nineveh to prophesy to its inhabitants.  He was to command them to repent and preach of their forthcoming destruction if they refused.  Nineveh was described as a scary place.  It was a near certainty Jonah would be murdered upon telling the inhabitants of their wickedness.

    I always heard that story and couldn’t imagine, couldn’t comprehend.  GOD told Jonah to do something.  If God tells you to do something – you do it!  It doesn’t matter how afraid you are or how scary it is.  You DO WHAT GOD COMMANDS.  Especially when it’s that clear.  If God told you to do something, you would listen, wouldn’t you?

    That’s what I always thought.

    That night in the basement I asked what I should do next with my life.  The answer couldn’t have been clearer if an angel appeared in the room and said it to my face.  I knew.  I needed to go on a mission.  I can’t stress this enough.  I knew what I was supposed to do.

    Then the doubts.  “I can’t go on a mission.  Where would I even begin?  I have so much to repent of.  I don’t even know who to go to” were my thoughts.  Also, I would have to give a GOING AWAY speech like I just watched my cousin give that very day.  Out of the question.  The thought of getting up in church and giving a talk was enough to make me feel sick.  I couldn’t do it.  I was too afraid.  On top of that I had big plans in the coming weeks.  It was my friend’s birthday and we had partying to do.  You know, the important stuff.  I couldn’t repent NOW.

    In the story of Jonah he gets on a ship to run away (From God- I know, crazy).  But here I was, running away from God.  I pretended like I didn’t know the answer to my prayer, but I knew.  I ran.  I ran away.

    I didn’t get swallowed by a whale.  Instead I moved on, distracted and forgetting.

    After Jonah’s whale incident, he finally agrees to do what God asked of him.  He was spit up on the shore of Nineveh and followed what God asked him to do.

    I think in a way, the few years after that moment in the basement, I was figuratively in a storm and swallowed by a whale.  Not for three days but for four years.  Eventually God had the whale spit me back up on shore. 

    You’d think I missed my chance, right?  I never went on a mission.  For a long time I thought I could never be forgiven for ignoring God.  Then I got my patriarchal blessing.  In it I am told to trouble myself not over lost days.  I can’t explain in words the comfort that simple phrase gave to me.

    Back to Jonah.  He ignored God.  Yet still, somehow, God used Jonah’s mistakes to bring about His work.  I don’t know how God makes up for our mistakes.  It recently occurred to me that in that basement I gave the first sincere prayer in a long time.  Then I ignored God.  I showed a modicum of faith followed by an excess of fear.  After that I found a job in Arizona, I settled down, and have been here in Arizona ever since.  Then I returned to church.  Now I’m here, writing to you, hopefully you’ve stuck with me this far.

    It’s so much better to do what God asks the first time.   I think we avoid a lot of heartache if we do.  But never forget – trouble yourself not over lost days.  God will have you spit up on shore when you’re ready.  When you’re really ready to trust in Him.  It took me some time.  Somehow, He accepted that.  Somehow, He waited.  I’m not saying I’ll ever fully make up for disobedience, not sure exactly how that works.  But I know that Christ will forgive me because He loves me.  There is no greater comfort than that.

  • Love is Powerful

    Love is Powerful

    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.

    First Presidency February 2008 – January  2018

    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.

  • Judged

    Heading into my ninth-grade year my family moved.  This resulted in me attending a new ward.  I got a zone variance so I could go to the school I would have gone to if I didn’t move.  I had developed friendships through middle school that I didn’t want to give up.  The funny thing is how quickly those friendships dissolved.  Not because of falling out or anything dramatic, just growing up and growing apart.  I played basketball and that became my friend group.

    My new ward had a few guys my age.  From day one, I don’t think I ever felt like I completely belonged.  They had been friends their whole lives and I was new.  On top of that, we had no similar interests.  For example, I played sports; they played video games, and that sort of thing.

    I’ve looked back and thought a lot about those years.  During my time in that ward I started to drift further and further away.  It got to the point that I just felt unwelcome.  Back then, being a popular basketball player at my high school was more important than anything. I looked down on this group of friends that I never belonged to.  As I got a girlfriend, I started to think I was cool.  As I started to make serious mistakes, I started to think I was better than them because I was experiencing the world and I thought I was more mature.

    Then I started to feel judged by them.  I started to feel ostracized.  I still remember meeting with my bishop at the time.  He was the father of one of those friends in the group.  He was a young, kind man.  He was easy to get along with and a good guy.  I remember telling him I wasn’t worthy to bless the sacrament.  I couldn’t help but feel that he’d told his son, who’d told his friends, and the ostracizing got worse. 

    Over time, that feeling festered.  I didn’t think about it too intensely, but I had this idea that they all knew and they all judged me for it.  In hindsight, that bishop was a great guy and there’s very little chance he ever told his son anything about my transgressions.  He may have told his son to look out for me or to help me. That could have made his son think some things.  I strongly doubt he told him anything about my mistakes.  Yet, over time, this thought became something I assumed was true.

    Now I look back on these days with a much different perspective.  Something I’ve come to realize is that I was never judged by that group of friends.  They tried to welcome me and they tried to make me a member of their group.  Any judgment I felt was my own.

    It’s been a long journey to get to this point.  To come to the realization that I was the one ostracizing myself.  I was the one judging myself.  I didn’t feel welcome because I was making myself unwelcome.  It wasn’t something I realized until I looked back. Many years later I was able to see it, after some growth and real maturing. 

    What helped me come to this realization was reading the story of Cain and Abel.  The scriptures say that Cain loved Satan more than God.  Satan tricked Cain and misled him.  That’s what happened to me those many years ago. Satan tricked and misled me.  He led me to believe these good, kind, friendly individuals didn’t like me.  I allowed my pride to make me think I was better than them.  Satan promoted that thinking.  Satan led me to be mindful of the world and I followed along.

    It was only through the grace of Jesus Christ and His atonement that I was able to come away from that part of my life with an understanding of what was actually happening.  I’m grateful that time didn’t foster even more of a feeling of animosity or negativity towards the church.  I’m glad I was always able to separate perceived wrongs and unkindness of individuals from the love of my Savior.  It’s now these years later, because of my Savior, that I’m able to see I was wrong and judging myself.  I learned to love God more than the world.  The atonement of Jesus Christ allowed me to be forgiven for those mistakes I made and also gave me the perspective to see the humble kindness I was always surrounded by.

    I hope everyone out there can separate the people of Christ’s Church, imperfect as we are, from Christ Himself.  Christ loves us so much.  He knows us.  He judges us only with love.  Members of the Church always fall short.  We’re not there yet.  As long as we keep trying, maybe we’ll one day get there.  But for now, I plead for you to remember Christ is perfect, we’re not.  Make sure you have a testimony of Him first.  Everything else will fall in line.

    If anyone has felt judged or would like to share your experience, I’d love to hear it.  Thanks for reading.