I am sitting here in my apartment. My roommates are getting ready for dates. One of them keeps asking me if she can wear my navy blue J.Crew sweater. I tell her yes. She decided not to wear it. Good, I think the red sweater she chose looks better on her. Currently, This is my life. It's a monumental different scenario from what life was like a year ago. I remember it so well. At this time, I was sitting in my Stake Presidents office and having him tell me that I was released from my duties as a missionary. It seemed almost like a dream and a nightmare, and a sick joke all mixed together and I had to accept it as my realty.
I remember that Friday morning. That May 24th, 2013. Sister Miller came and picked me up from the house I was staying at in Cottonwood heights. We put my suitcase in her car and we drove to the airport. I knew Sister Miller was talking to me in that car ride to the airport, I just don't remember anything she said. The only thing I could focus on was the fact that I was being sent home. I had been on a mission for 94 days. 41 of them has been spent at the MTC. 94 days and I was already returning home. I just couldn't understand how this scenario was happening to me.
I never wanted to go on a mission. It just seemed almost silly for me to go. I wasn't someone who you would think would be a good candidate for a mission. I never went to Seminary. I often thought that Institute was a joke. I also had some significant health issues that couldn't be ignored. You don't mess around with Lupus and history of blood clots to the lungs. But, When I decided to go on a mission, I was obsessed with it. December 12, 2012 will always be such a great day. I overcame those odds and sent in my papers. I received my mission call on January 11th, 2013. I left for the Mission field on February 20th, 2013.
But, here I was standing in line to receive my boarding ticket. The man who was checking my paperwork, made a comment that about how the missionary was returning home. I think the look I gave him was enough for him to not ask anymore questions. I was a missionary returning home. He knew it was a premature return date. I boarded my plane. Sat in the fifth row, window seat. I looked out the window and swore I would never go back to Utah.
( if you have been reading my blog lately, you know I broke that promise.) I returned. I chose to jump and make myself a happier person. You see, being sent home did a number on me. It was a hard year. I spent months sobbing to myself as I fell asleep, asking the question "why has I not been good enough to stay?"
I realize now, that I spent an incredibly long time wasting such a perfect gift. Heavenly Father gave me the biggest blessing, the biggest favor that I could have been given. He gave me a second chance at turning things around in my personal life. When I wanted to serve him, He served me in such a perfect way. The only regret I have is not realizing it sooner.
We often think as trials as being a bad thing. The biggest blessing in my life caused me the most pain. (and left some wicked scars on my abdomen) Isn't that funny how that works out?
I guess the point that I am trying to make is that I am so glad I am not in charge of how my life plays out. Heavenly Father knows what is best for us and what is going to help us. He knows how to get us there, even if we have to go kicking and screaming.
A year ago, on May 24th, 2013. God showed how much he loved me as I waited for my plane to take off.