The First Time

I opened my missionary scriptures for the first time in over 3 months today. I was surprised with the pain that accompanied seeing Sister Lindsay Farnworth written on the front. I forgot about that. I ran my finger over it a couple times trying to hold back the tears. I wouldn't let myself cry in that moment. I was in a group meeting for Early Returned Missionaries. (The best part of my weak. The place where I was first able to finally feel like there was purpose and hope to this struggle.  I'll write about that later.) Although the people surrounding me could understand what I was feeling in that exact moment more than anyone else. I didn't want to let them see.

The topic of the meeting was turning negative things into positive. Exactly what I needed to think about and ponder, especially right now. As I am going through one of the most seemingly negative experiences of my life.

As we turned in our scriptures to D&C Section 121 a scripture I had marked immediately caught my eye. It took me back to the moment sitting in my classroom at the MTC sobbing searching for comfort. I couldn't have been there more than a week, but it felt like a lifetime. I was struggling immensely with feelings of inadequacy and homesickness. In my heart I struggled with an intense desire to do the will of God and yet had an inability to comprehend why I felt such turmoil. I couldn't stop wondering what my friends and family were doing, and wishing that I was with them again. I felt like my heart was trying to be in two places at once and it was killing me. And then I read:

7 My [daughter], peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;
8 And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.
9 Thy friends [and family] do stand by thee, and they shall hail thee again with warm hearts and friendly hands.

I felt these words jump off the page and into my heart. It was as if the Lord was speaking right to me. That last line about how my friends and family would hail helped me to imagine the sweet homecoming that I would receive. I imagined the airport and wondered who would be there. It was a picture and thought that helped me to keep going. To stay at the MTC one more day.

Little did I know at that point how different my "homecoming" would be. I didn't get a joyous welcome at the airport.  My Dad and brother pulled up to the Wyview chapel. I wasn't very excited to see them. They weren't necessarily excited to see me either. I was sobbing. My companions were sobbing. I was weak. I was sick. I was 30lbs lighter, and I was an emotional wreck.

My luggage had been stored in my lobby and a couple elders helped me take it out and load it into the truck. We shook hands and said goodbye. It was so hard to realize this was the last time I would see the people who had become my family. I hugged my Dad and brother. Introduced them to my companions. Hugged my companions goodbye and then got into the car and drove away.

Nobody was there to "release" me. I just quietly slipped away from my mission life back to "real life." I remember how weird it felt sitting in that car again. It had been just two short months since I had sat in that car. I never imagined I would be there that soon. I didn't feel proud, excited or happy. I felt guilty. I was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. But spiritually on fire. My testimony had never been stronger, yet I felt like I had failed.

I asked my Dad who knew I was coming home. He gave me the short list and I realized just how many people I would have to call and tell. I knew it wouldn't be easy. It was awful. To hear their shocked reactions as I spoke to them on the phone. The person they weren't supposed to be hearing from for another 16 months was suddenly home. Thus beginning the new life I get to face as an early returned missionary.

The words of these verses had a very different effect tonight. Instead of instant comfort, they brought memories and pain. Luckily along with that came that small ray of hope that the words still ring true. That these afflictions will be a small moment and my friends and family will still welcome me with warm hearts and friendly hands.