Standing in Holy Places (original) (raw)

Today I finally had a chance to talk with Bishop Smith. I was afraid I would not be able to say a word and cry the whole time. In fact, I only cried about half the time, and he understood exactly what I meant to say.

Other times in my life when I have sought help it did not work. Today did. Today I felt like there may be a chance for peace around the corner, if I am willing to look.

He and I also talked a little about this young man in the ward. Bishop Smith mentioned his name and it made me cry harder, not out of sadness or fear or any other silly emotion, but out of undying appreciation. This young man, I fear, has no idea what an amazing example of maturity, of how life should be lived, he is. I suppose a part of me wants to just tell him that he is completely unlike anyone else, that he is truly strong. I kind of did on his birthday, but I haven't talked to him about it.

It is interesting, Bishop Smith says I am just more mature than a lot of the youth in our ward, and that is probably why I don't feel like I fit in. Of course, I agreed. However, he said that the fact that I can be an example of someone a little more mature is exactly why I do fit in. I could not bring myself to tell him that I feel more like an example of someone whose life has fallen apart and is being slowly pieced back together, he has no idea. Maybe when I feel whole I can tell him.

I just thought I would share my thoughts on that. I did not want to post this to my normal journal, because they would not understand. For anyone who feels like there is no one to help you, it took me three years (and two bishops) to get the courage to be honest with the bishop. Finally, it feels worth it.