The last two and a half years literally were the most life changing and trying time of my entire life so far. I guess that is to be expected. Life doesn't get any easier the farther along we go. That being said, my mission beat the crap out of me. I guess it just caught me off guard in a way because it was harder than I had imagined it would be. Maybe not harder so much as hard in a different way than I had planned for.
I feel OK about saying that for the first 19 years of my life I underperformed. It's true, I admit, I didn't really do things the way that I was supposed to do. Then when I got to the MTC I suddenly realized that there were always 100 people all breathing down my neck expecting nothing but the best from me. Once I got out, the feeling or expectation stayed with me, just not the 100 people. Not only that, there were the trials from home, feelings of depression (which I had never dealt with before), limited success and much failure, and the consuming feeling that I didn't have the strength or knowledge to be anything more than "a pawn in this, the greatest of all chess matches."
Let's just say that I wanted out more than once. I remember sitting at our apartment during dinner hour. Our appointment had fallen through and we had to eat our own food again, which was less than quality. I was disappointed in my Spanish, my teaching, my spirituality, and I kept thinking that I could be doing more good at home than I was doing there. I thought I was wasting my time and the Lord's time. I remember looking at the phone and having President's number highlighted, ready to make the call and beg him to send me home.
But I didn't. I couldn't. I knew, dang it all, where I was supposed to be. Something stopped me from making that call and I resigned myself to keep going even though I had no idea where I was supposed to drag up the desire to do so. I didn't know how to deal with problems at home. But I stayed, and that area actually would up exploding with missionary work in a way that they still talk about it today.
I had trial after trial, I wanted to go home more than a few times, but I kept trucking. For some reason, after all was said and done, I kept coming back for more. The weird thing was, the more that I faced and overcame, the easier it got. And once enough time had passed, I started to see that I was becoming the kind of person that I needed to be. The hardships and things that I had to face started to wear off some of my rough edges. Then the trials got more intense. But I got stronger. I was able to face my life from a totally new perspective. And most importantly, I gained a sure testimony of the truth. I learned how to access the atonement and figure out how it works for other people. I saw the miracle of the gospel touch so many lives for good. I think about how if I had given up in a fickle moment of disappointment, like I so wanted to, I would have missed all of that. Thank goodness.
Those two years were spent among the best and worst people that I have ever met. And looking back, I love every single one of them. It was as though everybody had some kind of lesson to teach me. I remember walking home at night so tired I could barely stand but knowing that we had done good in the world. I remember the before and after of every convert that I saw get baptized, and how different each one was. It was amazing.
Lifting off from the ground was a poignant moment for me. I didn't know whether to smile or cry. I might have done a little bit of both. Either way, I left part of me there. I took back a lot more than I came with though.
I remember right after I got released. I was alone, sitting at home in regular gentile clothing for the first time in over two years, I had just taken off my badge for the last time, and I was filled with the most amazing feeling of accomplishment that I have ever felt. It was literally as though I heard the voice of heaven telling me that now I was capable of doing anything in the world that I wanted to. I was ready for the real world and it's challenges.
So anyways, I'm sitting here, and I remember. I remember all those crazy moments and all the miracles. I remember feeling like I just couldn't make it another two years, and then I remember that feeling of accomplishment. It still puts a smile on my face when I think back.
But right now I remember one particular night, exactly seven months ago, at this exact moment, laying in bunk bed in the basement of the mission home, not being able to sleep, wondering how I was going to greet my family the next morning. I knew that I had done good, but now it was time to apply all those things to me and my life. I remember wondering if The Dark Knight would be as good as everybody had made it out to be. What would it be like to hug a girl again? How on earth was I going to catch up on all the music, which two years previous I was already woefully behind? Oh, and how on earth was I going to figure out college in less than two weeks? I didn't even have any clothes, let alone textbooks...or tuition for that matter.
And I think about those worries and excitements of seven months ago. I can't believe it was only seven months ago. It was all so worth it.
And because of my mission, life at home has been so good to me. The me today is so different from the me of 2008. And I'm grateful.
So thank you Ohio. No other state has molded me as much as you. And I remember.
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