I remember coming home from the MTC and finding writing to be a huge stress reliever for me. I don't know why I haven't yet adopted that habit this time around, but hey. I'm here now.
So, overall.. This email is mostly for me to feel and experience some much needed closure after completing my mission in the greatest area in the entire world, The Pennsylvania "State College" Mission. Oh how I miss that place. How I miss the people and the euphoria of witnessing miracles take place every day.
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| My last picture with President Bednar the day I came home |
Let's be honest Brothers and Sisters. This bites.
Three weeks ago, I was still there. And I think that reoccurring thought alone is enough to fill my spirit and mind with every feeling of doubt, regret, and distaste for myself as a daughter of a loving God. I know it doesn't make sense, I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but that has been the shocking reality of this situation.
As many of you know, I am very honest by nature. When something is harboring a place in my mind, causing me harm in any way, I am not one to be silent. I am not one to complain, but I am also not one that enjoys the sensation of having my emotions all bottled up. Trial and error has proved to me that the latter option causes more harm than it does good, hence this email.
So, I apologize in advance if I am very blunt about this experience. I apologize in advance if I don't tie to the end of this email a big red ribbon, completing it knowing FULLY that all will be well. Because, brothers and sisters, I DON'T know that. But I DO know, that for some reason.. this is where I am meant to be. But again, that doesn't mean I like it at all. It doesn't mean I came home smiling and excited and ready to tackle the next hurdle. I wish with my whole heart that I was THAT returned missionary. HAHAHAHA, wow brothers and sisters that missionary doesn't exist and never has existed!
Let me paint a picture for you.
I want you to visualize a missionary that gets sucker punched in the stomach, bent over, gasping for air the second she sees her father in the Pittsburgh airport. I want you to imagine a sister missionary that uses her father as a human tissue box, wiping tears, snot, spit, and who knows what else onto his shirt during a two hour layover. I want you to imagine weeping and wailing and whatever form of gnashing of teeth you prefer to visualize as she runs to see her four younger sisters and mother at 1am in the Eugene airport.
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| My dad had to come pick me up as I was too sick to fly alone |
Returning home from a mission, whether it be after completing a full 18 to 24 months, or whether it be after only 3, is NOT pretty. The following weeks are far from easy either. I will spare you the detailed description of that experience thus far. No need to thank me. But, you're welcome anyways.
To anyone that doesn't know why I came home, I hope you simply know that it was a choice that the Lord and I had to make. I don't regret that choice. But it was, and still is, a choice that I struggle with. It was a choice that I am still so doubtful of. It is a choice that I often second guess.. But it is not a choice I regret. The Lord made his answer to those long prayers very clear.
I struggled with anxiety my entire mission. It was a disorder that I never knew I had until I tried with all of my heart to serve him as a set-apart missionary. I am open with this because it was very real. I used to think having anxiety just meant you got nervous more often. You were scared. It was something you just needed to mentally handle. Yup, I give you complete permission to judge me and think I am a terrible person. But God had his own way of doing that for you, so don't strain yourselves.
Anxiety is feeling nothing but your heart beating out of your chest. It is trying to calm down your breathing because hyperventilating causes severe dizziness. It is wanting to simply pass out already. It is having a breakdown because you don't know what it is you're so scared of. It is tunnel vision, only seeing all of the worst possible outcomes of the given situation.
Anxiety strikes hard as you are saying goodbye to a stranger that you met three months earlier. It reminds you of every memory you've had together in the quickest slideshow it can possibly create. It places tears in your eyes, a lump in your throat, and a hole in your heart that no one else could ever fill because it wants this to hurt you. You desperately try to take control by looking at your companion in the eyes, begging her to get in that car and to not look back.
But anxiety doesn't want you to feel as though you've won.
Anxiety forces you to hold in a mental breakdown as she closes the car door, leaving you in a parking lot with 4 sisters who look to you to guide them throughout that day.
Anxiety asks you to never let them see you cry. It tells you that they can't see how weak you are. It tells you that broken is not beautiful. How easily I was convinced of that simple statement after spending months testifying to others that the opposite was true.
Anxiety tells you to separate yourself from anyone that might ask you if you're doing okay. It screams at them to stay away because anxiety knows that talking to someone is EXACTLY what you need right now. Anxiety doesn't give you what you want. Anxiety doesn't care.
Anxiety convinces you that you will only get through the rest of transfers if you promise to go home after the day is over. Not to the apartment. Home.
Telling yourself that going home isn't enough though, because anxiety asks more of you. Anxiety doesn't care if you get through a whole day, the battle becomes getting through one hour. 20 minutes... 5..
Anxiety wishes you were dead because anxiety can't function within a body that is too broken to handle it. Anxiety does a really good job of convincing you that it must be the only way. '
My Dear friends, Anxiety is real. I was too naive to realize before now that there is a lot more to a disorder than just weakness. Whether that be physical, mental, emotional, or even spiritual weaknesses, remember that the voice you are hearing, it is not of God.
God speaks through the spirit.
And the spirit is a voice of peace. It is a voice of assurance. It is a voice of love, forgiveness, devotion, courage, and gentleness.
It is my prayer that we don't let the adversary confuse us with other voices in our mind. Or rather, it is my prayer that we find the strength to discern between the two.
Now, I dont know why the Lord has asked me to serve a mission such as the one I have served.. I don't know why he asked me to fight for that nametag for five months.. I don't know why he needed me to serve for three so he could bring me back.. but Ive learned that I don't need to care anymore about the things I don't know. Because the only knowledge that really matters, is that I trust him.
Let me tell you why.
I trust him because he is the reason I received a mission call last year.
I trust him because he sent me to the MTC with the greatest district I could have ever asked for.
I Trust Him because he gave me a family who welcomed me home with open arms after only three weeks of being gone.
I Trust Him because he taught me about who he created me to be during my five month mission of fighting.
I trust him because I received a letter in the mail informing me that I had finally been reinstated as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
I Trust him because no matter how many flights I missed on April 25th to get there, I Still landed in Pittsburgh that evening.
I Trust Him because he assigned me to the greatest trainer in the world. I Trust him because she and I are best friends. I trust him because I never would have met her had I not trusted in him before.
I trust him because he assigned me to serve in State College with the greatest people I've ever met.
I Trust Him because he keeps his promises. He sent me Sister Green. He sent me Sister Smoot and Sister Sage. He Sent me Sister Jeffery. He sent me Sister Nilsson and the hilarious Elder Lu and Elder Wang.
I Trust him because he let me teach what I loved. I trust him because he is the one that taught me to love what I taught.
I trust him because on the evening of April 25th, in the mission home, he told me that my mission was elsewhere.
I Trust him because as I waited to leave, he made the next three months the greatest three months of my life.
I Trust him because He has given me everything. He helped me to believe in seemingly impossible things.
I can now say that I believe in watermelon and in quarters. I believe in clothespins and pennies.
I believe that my "worst trainer ever," was really the best ever.
I believe that Delta must be the coolest destination in the State of Utah.
I believe that using a walker around the apartment is better than being carried, haha.
I believe that buses are miracle vehicles.
I believe that running down the street in the torrential rain to catch the bus is really flattering.
I believe that crockpots were made to be broken. Especially if you put one in front of two missionaries that clearly don't know it is made of glass and shouldn't go on the stove..
I believe in Frozen hot chocolate and peaches with ice cream.
I believe in quoting veggietales, studio C, Brian Reagan, and Kid History.
I believe in eating Chinese food in the ER.
I believe that the fitted sheet life CHOSE me.
I believe in singing the Lamb of God with my companion every P day.
I believe in attempting to sing hymns by the bus stop to talk to people downtown.
I believe in ripped skirts and in mosquito bites.. I suppose I also believe in benadryl..
I believe in toy Frogs and screaming companions.
I believe in the importance of backing your car and of good drivers.
I believe in sunglasses and a seeing eye companion to guide you through the wilderness of state College while blind.
I believe in getting hit on by strangers that sit by us on buses..
I believe in lightning bugs and sparklers.
I believe in humidity, heat, torrential rain, and wind storms all taking place in the course of one day.
I believe in whipped cream, egg roulette, sleeping bag races, and spicy peppers.
I believe in sushi burritos and chopsticks.
I believe in the little notes my companion would hide for me. Many of which I wouldn't discover until after she was gone.
I believe in miraculous lessons with recent converts.
I believe in faith building experiences with those we were teaching.
I believe in obedience and blessings.
I believe in inspiration and miracles.
I believe in witnessing the unexplainable.
I believe in the power of music and in the power of prayer.
I believe in sacred ordinances and making covenants with a loving Father in Heaven.
I believe in the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
I know that my Redeemer lives.
I believe that every day the Lord gave me something else to believe in.
I Believe in all that my mission was. I believe in all that it will become.
So, I said that there wouldn't be a big shiny bow to end this email, hahaha.. But who am I kidding. When you are talking about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, there is NOTHING that cannot be remedied by TRUSTING and TURNING to our savior. Maybe this is why the Lord knew I needed to write again. He knew that I needed to be reminded of all that he has done. Of all that he WILL do.
I solemnly testify before all of you, and to all of the world if I may, that I know that the Church that Jesus Christ once established long ago, has now been restored. And it is right here in front of all of us.
I declare that the evidence of this truth, is the PHYSICAL evidence that we all desire to have. You can see it with your eyes, hold it in your hands, and study it until you have dissected every inch. This evidence of which I speak is "The Book of Mormon." Read it, I pray.. Thumb through every page, asking questions, seeking answers, and praying for personal revelation. I can promise with all energy of my heart that if you will turn to this book, the hidden mysteries of the Lord's kingdom WILL be opened unto you. I only promise this because I have experienced the sincerity of the Lord's word for myself.
I testify that Joseph Smith, was a prophet of God. He sacrificed eveything, because he knew that giving everything he had, could never be enough. How grateful I am for his devotion to God's kingdom.
I testify that the Lord loves you. He loves you because he understands you. He loves you because you are one of his precious and priceless children. I testify that we can talk to God through prayer, I testify that he answers us through scripture.
It is my pleasure to proclaim that Jesus is the Christ.
If nothing else, I can promise you with more sincerity, with more devotion, and with more love than I have ever expressed in my entire life, that he LIVES.
I know this because I have SEEN him. I have seen his gentle smile with my mortal eyes. I can prove this to you because I have witnessed people change because of his love. Do you not see the light of Christ within the eyes of one who has given their burdens to him? Have you not seen his smile though the relief of one who has found saving? Have you been looking for that which you desire to SEE? His warm smile is what lights the sky every day. His love is what forms the smiles in all those who seek him.
I have touched his scarred hands with my unworthy and infirm frame. I have turned to scripture to know him and to understand why it is that he suffered for me. I have felt the pages turn beneath my fingers and I have felt the very nearness of those hands reaching out to me through words of the prophets of old. Have you touched his hands? Have you felt the wounds in his feet? If not, I give unto you the promise that this desire is fulfilled miraculously as we heed the words of those he has called to proclaim his gospel. We feel his hands, by being touched by his words. We can feel of the piercing in his feet by allowing the spirit to peirce our hearts with truth. We witness this by abiding by the precepts found in the Book of Mormon.
I have felt his literal arms around me. I have cried at his feet.
It is easy for me to say that all you have to do is Repent and turn to the Lord. Endure to the end, make covenants through saving ordinances, be saved.
Brothers and Sisters, there is nothing in this world that I could use as a comparison to apply to my experience with Jesus Christ, the Son of God. All I can tell you, is this.
Trust him.
I can promise that if you will do this.. You will also feel his loving arms around you. You will feel his pierced hands wipe the tears from your face.
You were worth it to him when he gave his life for you on the cross and in Gethsemane.
As a returned missionary and representative of our Elder Brother, Jesus Christ, it is my prayer that we make HIM worth it to us.
"Therefore, let us glory, yea, we will glory in the Lord; yea, we will rejoice, for our joy is full; yea, we will praise our God forever. Behold, who can glory too much in the Lord? Yea, who can say too much of his great power, and of his mercy, and of his long-suffering towards the children of men? Behold, I say unto you, I cannot say the smallest part which I feel." - Alma 26:16
"Now if this is boasting, even so will I boast; for this is my life and my light, my joy and my salvation, and my redemption from everlasting wo." - Alma 26: 36
Ammon's words are my words. I cannot say the smallest part which I feel..
But I trust that he already knows the words that I can't begin to speak. And he makes those words my reality.
"I'll sing Gloria, for MY Savior Lives"
Sister Charlotte Westover
