For the last two years, before my mind gets completely focused on all of the exciting things that happen through the month of December and I'm planning what desserts to make for ward parties, work parties, family parties, and friend parties, etc. my mind has pulls the E-brake on all of those holiday festivities and I can't help but think about December 7th, 2011.
I woke up especially early that morning. My outfit was picked out for the last three days. I'd been preparing for this day mentally for several months, yet doing everything I could not to dwell on it. I was giving away 80% of my belongings, yet my suitcases still seemed too full. I'd said good-bye to most of the people I had born my heart and soul to in this giant city. My final interview was complete. I had a firm determination to never forget this experience or these people, and to especially make sure these good habits were part of me now.
My departure from a group of about 18 sister missionaries was a blur. It was 6:00am and the vans were going to be here any minute to drive me to LAX. There were pictures taken, tight squeezy hugs, some tears, a few handshakes from the Elders. Then we were off. I was lucky enough to be in the same van as my Mission President and his wife, (President and Sister Baker) and it gave us time for a few last conversations. It was on this drive to the airport that I realized I'd forgotten to tell my companion Sister Green (whom I was companions with for 6 months) the truth about where the scar on my neck came from. This was the one thing I had not shared with her during our 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and 6 months of talking all day every day. Sister Baker laughed and said she would let Sister Green know I something to tell her when I wrote her next :)
Next thing I knew, we were at the airport. I had two huge suitcases and a carry-on bag... so three suitcases... I found out quickly that I could not carry it all by myself! President Baker asked one of the Elders to help me get all my suitcases into the airport and checked. Just like that, the one other sister going home was off to a different terminal, along with a few Elders, and I was alone with 5 Elders. Then the most unexpected thing happened, my Mission President gave me a hug! I had not more than a handshake from a male in 18 months and boy was I a little taken back! But I was so grateful he did, it really meant a lot.
We had about an hour to kill before our flight. Four of these Elders went crazy in the airport! They were running around looking at magazines, wandering off by themselves, and doing heaven knows what. I was NOT about to be alone in LAX as a sister missionary during my finals hours wearing my missionary badge. Thankfully, the same Elder who helped me carry in my ridiculously large suitcases stuck with me. I don't want to sound judgmental of those other Elders, but it was a really big deal to me to be faithful to as many missionary rules as possible until the very last minute I was released in my Stake President's office. There were still people to talk to and pass along cards to be given out. It was just a personal choice I'd made and a commitment I wanted to keep. I remember this hour in the airport felt so slow... yet a blur. I can't remember much about it. I remember trying to read my Book of Mormon, but my mind was so full of thoughts about what was going to happen in the next 2-3 hours it was hard to concentrate. This Elder and I talked to a couple of people sitting around us and gave out a couple of pass along cards.
I don't even remember getting on the plane to be honest. My next memory is sitting in my seat and being completely ecstatic that I was sitting in the middle of the three chairs in our row. To my right was a girl who looked about my age wearing volleyball sweats, and to my left, that same Elder who I clung to since we were dropped off at the airport curb. My bag was full of pass along cards and every pamphlet possible, just in case. I had prayed I wouldn't be sitting by other missionaries on my way home so I could share my testimony one more time! Prayer answered and I was about to find out who this girl was.
Her name was Shayne, she was from Malibu and played volleyball for a university in Montana. She had flown home this last week for her grandma's funeral. This Elder and I shared some of our beliefs about families being forever and the plan Heavenly Father has for us. I invited her to go with her family to the Visitor's Center and see the Christmas lights when she flew back home later that month. I told her the kind of life I had lived the last 18 months, and as most people are, she was surprised and a little taken back. I told her I was about to see my family for the first time in 18 months and she was really excited for me. She was the nicest girl and I was so blessed that I was able to sit by her and talk-- she even let me take a picture with her!
One other VERY vivid thing I will never forget, was the view from the airplane as we flew over the last piece of beach and into the Pacific Ocean. The plane circled around and headed East for Utah. I looked out over the area's I had served in Los Angeles and remembered thinking how big they had felt and how many people were in them. I would sometimes feel overwhelmed with the daunting task of being the missionary for my area-- thinking about how I was to even put a dent in teaching all those people about the gospel. Yet from this birds eye view- I had a completely different perspective of just how small that part of the Lord's vineyard truly was. I thought about how Heavenly Father feels when he looks over this whole planet of His children. I had this feeling of "You did good Sister Hanselman with your little piece of My vineyard" as I caught the last glimpse of Los Angeles.
The next thing I knew, the plane was descending. The next thing I knew, I was off the plane and walking toward the baggage claim. The air was freezing as we got off the plane and I remember thinking, the cold and I are never going to be friends again. My Elder I stuck with said he had to go to the bathroom, and he was gone, I was officially alone. The four other Elders were literally skipping through the airport and I was not about to run to keep up with them. So off they went ahead of me, and it was the strangest, most nerve wracking experience of my life (way more than getting married!).
I'd heard of the expression "you can't feel your legs" and that was the first time I truly experienced it. I felt like I was going to be sick. I had a vision of myself tripping onto the escalator because of the lack of feeling in my legs, and rolling down the rest of the way to my families feet. Don't get me wrong, I was happy to see my family. I wasn't so sure about not being a missionary and wearing my badge. But I was for sure not excited about putting my life together again and being "back in the world". I knew who I was with this tag, I knew my purpose. I felt like that was about to be taken away from me. And suddenly there it was, the escalator. I cautiously stepped on with my jello legs, and made the descent. I could see families hovering around the bottom of the escalator, but not mine.
Then I heard a familiar voice and my first name called out. That was another weird moment, I hadn't responded to anyone calling me by my first name in so long, that it didn't even feel like my name anymore! I saw my mother push through the other families and run to the bottom of the escalator. I still had half of the escalator to ride down, but my mom was already at the bottom waiting for me. I thought about walking down the escalator to hurry up and give her a hug, but my jello legs quickly reminded me that my vision of rolling down the escalator to her feet was still very much a possibility... so I stayed. Haha that was such an awkward few seconds as I could tell that my family was thinking, "Why isn't she running down the escalator to us?!"
Soon enough though, I was at the bottom and in my mother's arms. She brought me a coat, scarf, gloves, and this embarrassing cat hat that I didn't know was a cat until about an hour after I was wearing it! (Thanks Mom!!!)
I think about this day a lot during the month of December. I remember how I HATED malls (which was very strange thing because I loved them before my mission). I hated being surrounded by people and not being able to approach them and share the gospel with them. I hated how Christmas was so commercialized and I wanted nothing for Christmas that year. I hated the feeling of jeans! Probably because I gained about 10-15 pounds on my mission and I only had one pair that I could stuff my giant booty into. Driving alone freaked me out!!! I missed having friends who knew me and what I'd been through this last year and a half. Dating was going to be the death of me.
I'm horrible at adjusting to change, and it certainly took me awhile to do so. I think about my mission a lot, and love when I have dreams about going back and being a missionary again. It was the best. But I've also learned that life as a "member missionary" certainly has its perks. There are two pieces of advice I received that made the biggest difference for me on "that" December 7th:
1- Treasure your mission, but don't dwell on it. I've come to find that it can be a tool of the adversary to think make an RM think they will never be fully happy again after their mission, that nothing will ever be as good as your mission. This is FALSE! Life is good! So go live it, and live it well!
2- Be where your feet are. Don't think about home so much on your mission that you'll have regrets about not staying focused and serving the Lord and His children to your fullest. And vice-verse, don't think about your mission so much when you get home that you can't move on and miss out on opportunities to grow and find true joy.
As terrifying as that December 7th was, it was the beginning of a very great life I am living.
No comments:
Post a Comment