The voice, impression, perhaps revelation, hit me as soon as I walked through the door of my tiny basement apartment.
I had just returned from stake conference in Billings presided over by Elder W. Craig Zwick, a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My mind was absorbing the doctrine taught and Spirit felt from two wonderful sessions.
Elder Zwick and his wife spoke with great power during his two addresses. At no time did I see him refer to notes or written text. More than once, he looked at me and caught my eye. At least it felt that way. His words pierced my very soul. His Spirit spoke to my Spirit.
So were the thoughts in my mind as I entered my tiny basement apartment and put my Scriptures and notebook in their proper place.
I hung up my coat and quickly changed into pajama bottoms and orange OSU T-shirt. As I walked through my small living room measuring no more than 18-by-12 feet, the thought came into my head. It was very pronounced, almost like a distinct voice.
“What if Elder Zwick comes to your house?”
The first thought was panic as I looked quickly at the pile of clean laundry in the middle of the living room, still needing to be folded. File folders were scattered around my chair while blankets and my straw cowboy hat covered another chair. Crumbs and dirty silverware could be seen on of my kitchen counter.
I grappled with the absurdness of the idea. I knew he would be spending the week, working with missionaries in the Billings area. So it was possible. But there’s no way he would come to my house out of 5,000 members in the stake. What were the chances?
Then it hit me what I think I was supposed to learn here. What of instead of Elder Zwick, it was the Savior coming to my house. What would he find? What, if anything, would cause me to shrink from his presence?
I did a quick self inventory and realized something:
The Savior wouldn’t see football or anything else on television on this day set aside to focus on Him.
He wouldn’t find any movies in the apartment that would make it harder for me to be like Him.
The more I thought about it, the more I think he would find a good feeling here. And that’s more important than the garbage can sitting off in the corner of my living room. There’s so much I would tearfully beg his forgiveness for, but that’s OK. He already knows I’m trying.
So I don’t really expect a personal visit from Elder Zwick.
But just in case, I folded and put away my laundry and did the dishes.
Just in case, no matter who comes to see me.