Reflections, Gratitude, and Missions

"Even though I had left my mission, my mission didn't leave me. In fact, even after all these years, I still feel that my mission was the best two years for my life"

-Matthew O. Richardson

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Seeing that this is my first Thanksgiving since being home from my mission, I wanted to express my gratitude for having the privilege to serve as a full-time missionary by sharing some of my thoughts as to just how influential my mission has been to me.

Since I can remember, I always had a burning desire to serve a full-time mission. I attribute that desire to having been raised in a fabulous family with each family member setting a good example for me to follow. When the time finally came for me to “put in my papers”, it was a no brainer. I had been waiting for this all my life.

I remember it all so well; waiting anxiously for the envelope to arrive, and when it came, opening it surrounded by people that I love – then reading aloud:

“Elder Jacob, you have been called to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You have been assigned to labor in the England London Mission…”

What I remember most about that moment was feeling that London was exactly where I needed to be. England had never before crossed my mind as I place that I would serve, but it was the perfect mission call for me.

I like to think that I hit the ground running as I entered the MTC and eventually the mission field; however, I had to go through my own growing experiences before I truly began to understand my purpose as a missionary.

It may sound cliché, but it wasn’t until I completely lost myself in the work, that I began to experience a fullness of joy that only comes through sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.

“He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.”

Matthew 10:39

My mission experience means everything to me because:

• On my mission, I began to more fully know Christ as my Lord, my Savior, and my friend

• On my mission, I saw and felt the healing power of the atonement

• On my mission, I witnessed miracles

• On my mission, I began to understand how the spirit works

• On my mission, I began to appreciate the power of prayer and regular scripture study

• On my mission, my priorities in life began to be aligned with God’s will

• On my mission, I developed eternal friendships

• On my mission, I had fun

• On my mission, I worked hard

• On my mission, I went through trials

• On my mission, I learned how to rely on the Lord

• On my mission, the love that I had for my family was magnified

Ultimately, the reason that I loved my mission was because it helped change me from the person that I was, to the person that I hope to one day become.

It has been six months since I last had the privilege to don the nametag that bears both my name and the name of my Savior. Despite how much I miss my mission, life could not be better now.

“The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead,
prepare for it. The present is here, live it.”

Thomas S. Monson

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“Missionaries should have the understanding that their mission is not a two-year
mission; it is an eternal mission…”

Janet Brigham

Guiltiest of the Guilty Pleasures

We’ve all got ‘em. Here’s to wiping away the guilt, not the pleasure.


Exfoliating (purple) gloves –
That’s right, I exfoliate, and I like it. This is one of the many blessings I got out of my mission. At first my companions were hesitant, but they eventually came around and joined in on the fun.

Cyber-Stalking –
Facebook. No explanation needed.

Coco Butter –
Who doesn’t love the feel of soft hands?

Sarcasm –
I’ve been told sarcasm is “the lowest form of wit”

It’s not the lowest form of wit.

Eating raw cookie dough –
YUM!

Skinny ties and fitted suits –
Another thing from the mission. England, I’m in debt to you forever.

Hitting snooze about 5 times before I actually get up –
I set my alarm clock early, just for the pleasure.

Turning on the A.C./ceiling fan and sleeping under heavy blankets –
SO cozy.

Long, hot showers –
I can’t help it. Clean AND soothing.

Beating roommates to the shower in the morning –
Only way to start a day.


There you have it. Don’t judge me.

I cried at work today.

No biggie.

You might think I'm a loser. But, I would (and likely will) do it again.



A short while ago, I got a job as a teacher at the MTC. So far, it has been unbelievable. Basically, I get to do something that I love and be involved in something I'm passionate about. Brilliant!

This morning, I was crouched down by a couple of missionaries who had just finished a role-play and I was discussing with them how they felt about it. As I asked one Elder how he felt, he looked me in the eye and I could almost see things begin to click in his head. Tears filled his eyes as he spoke, but he managed to keep himself composed as he shared his experience with me. As he went on, I realized that small tears were rolling down my own cheeks.

Initially, I had the urge to quickly hide my tears. I didn't want anyone to see me in my weakness. Then, as flashback after flashback of my own mission sped through my mind, I thought to myself, "Why not show a little emotion?"

So I did.



As I walked to my car after work, I was elated.

Made my day.

Sleeping in garbage bags? A good idea!

My sister recently received a letter from a missionary, Cameron, who happens to be one of my good friends. In his letter, he reminisced about one of our many adventures together - the time we out smarted the rest of our scouting troop by using garbage bags as sleeping bags... Here's the scoop:

My scout master, at the time was an avid hiker and outdoorsman. This, was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing, because he took us to obscure places that I would have never seen otherwise. Curse, because he LOVED hiking - and hiking FAR.

On one particular occasion, we traveled to Havasupai - an Indian reservation in the Grand Canyon. Honest, this has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth.


If you were to hike through Havasupai, you'd see dazzling water cascading over awe-inspiring waterfalls. How's that for imagery? Breathtaking.

But, there's a catch - in order to get a glimpse of this natural wonder, you have to hike (backpack) for AGES through the Grand Canyon. I don't remember the exact distance, (I'm scared to look it up for fear that it actually isn't that far) but, I remember feeling utterly exhausted.

Knowing that it was going to be a difficult hike, and being the logical people that we are, Cameron and I put our heads together to come up with ways to minimize the amount of weight we would have to pack.

Your average hiker might think that a great way to minimize weight would be to scratch the tent and pack a small tarp instead, or to only pack light-weight clothing. Both are good ideas. Yet, Cameron and I, are not your average hiker.

Being not only logical, but also resourceful, we came up with the idea of taping two garbage bags together and sleeping in them. After all, they're water proof, so no tent would be needed. And, we were told that it would be warm, so no need to worry about getting cold. Ingenious!

So, that's what we did.

As we hiked, we watched as few members of our troop struggled, the hike seemed easier to us as we joyfully thought of how clever we were.

From then on, everything went well... Until our first night...

With all the careful planning that Cameron and I did, we somehow overlooked the possibility of a torrential rainstorm happening. Darn.

Garbage bags are waterproof, so at least we had that going for us. But, you can't exactly cover your head with a garbage bag for an extended amount of time. We had to come up with a plan and fast!

Being the logical, resourceful, and clever people that we are, we quickly huddled under someone else's tarp and stayed there for much of the first night. Bless their heart.

We made sure to pack their tarp out of the canyon for them.

The extra weight nearly killed us, but we figured it was the least we could do.

Tribute to Papanwa

As we dive into this entry, I have to cover a few things:

First, if you don't understand the term, Papanwa, that means you haven't watched the movie,"The Testaments" enough. Go check it out.

Second, this post might only be interesting to immediate family. Or, if I'm lucky, to all those who love their fathers. You'll have to decide.


I have a pretty sweet dad, one of the best. And, here's why:


1. My dad is one of the world's best story tellers

As a little boy, I looked forward to hearing a bedtime story every single night from my dad. Some of his more notorious stories are about: His life growing up on a ranch - these usually include him rescuing the family sheep or eluding death by inches or, they're about his times serving as a missionary in Japan - these stories usually include freezing conditions and/or drowning rats in his apartment.

I can't forget to mention how many of his stories begin with, "When I was a little girl..." rather than, "Once upon a time..." A classic in our home.

2. My dad is an avid videographer/photographer

My siblings and I often joke about the fact that we have lived the life of movie stars. I would wager that all totalled, I have more film time than Brad Pitt. If you think I'm joking, I'll show you the hundreds of DVDs my dad has burned, each of which has endless hours of family videos on it. Honest, anytime I want to, I can go look up any event in my life and watch it. And, I do mean ANY event. He has it all, from losing my first tooth, to skits that my siblings and I would put on, to my high school graduation. My life has been well documented.

Believe it or not, there are some set backs to living a life "under the spotlight". Not only do you have to be careful about what you do on film, because, who knows who will eventually see it. But, there are also those times when you just don't want to be filmed. Anytime my siblings or I would protest as my dad pulled out it his faithful camera, the phrase, "This is for posterity" would echo in our ears. This phrase is now one of our families biggest inside jokes.

3. My dad is a pretty good cook

Ever heard of mush? Basically, it's a thick porridge. And, it's what I ate every morning before school. To be honest, I hated it. But, I love the memories.

As my siblings and I would be sitting around the table, none of us finishing our mush, we would receive words of encouragement from our father:

"Come on Hiram, it will make a man out of you, like it did me"

Or, "Come on Hannah, it will put hair on your chest, like it did me."

Who wouldn't eat their mush after receiving such encouragement?



Recently, it was my Dad's birthday. The big 60. You wouldn't guess his age by looking at him though. He has "young genes". Still, it's pretty crazy.

My Dad doesn't even know I blog, so, without trying to make this blog one of those "public expressions of love". I just wanted to thank my Dad for all the good times.

Thanks for the memories, Dad. I love you!

What RMs don't mention in their homecoming talks

Things they cooked/ate.

The time they smashed their own windshield, by throwing water balloons out of their fifth-story window.

When they found candy in a pile of rubbish...

and ate it.



Don't freak out. It was "Foil Fresh".




And, those times they spent hours on the phone taking the brunt of someone's furry.

Missions really are the best.

The Mailbox

I have lived in the same house my entire life. My house is full of memories, it's a great place to be.

Because I have lived in the same house my whole life, I have also grown up with the same neighbors. This post, is about one of those neighbors. Or, at least, about their mailbox.

Growing up, my house was on a dead end. This was great for many reasons, one of which being that I could play in the street and my parents wouldn't be too concerned. The house two down from mine was the place that all the neighborhood kids would play at. The best feature of this house was the sparkly white rocks all around it's yard. It might not sound like much, but trust me, these were cool rocks - especially for a seven-year old.

One day while playing with my best friend, Tyler, we discovered that these sparkly white rocks were perfect for scratching our name into things. So, that's what we did.

14 years later, and still there. Bless my neighbor's heart.

I really should repaint it.

Become as a Little Child

"And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and become as a little child..."

Lately, I've been attending an institute class taught specifically to those with special needs. This has been one of the highlights of my week, here's why:

Big smiling faces, playdough, sitting by Carl, signing, drawing, matching games, acting, laughing, occasionally dancing, and best of all - learning life lessons from people who truly are as little children.

One of the latest lessons I've learned comes from the example of a couple of wonderful girls named Jessica and Andie. Jessica is shy. Andie is loving. Both are lovely. Recently, as Jessica stood in front of the class, she started to cry as she shared a few thoughts about Christ. She then sat in her seat and proceeded to cry silently. Andie, took note of this, and was (I'm a little ashamed to say) the only one who cared enough to go over and comfort Jessica.

As the two embraced, our attention was drawn to Andie, who proceeded to flip through her scriptures. Once she found the scripture she was searching for, she read aloud;

"And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up." - D&C 84:88

Some experiences are impossible to put into words. In this case, all I can tell you is, that at that moment, the class went silent and the Spirit of love was felt by all.

The thing that struck me about this whole experience was the thought of just how much I can learn from everyone, especially those who are "childlike".

"And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and become as a little child..."

Breaking the Ice

Seeing how I am new to this whole blogging thing, I figured it would be good to play a get-to-know-you game.

Two truths and a lie, here we go.

1) I have sung soprano in General Conference

2) I have been interrogated by the police for arson

3) I have been attacked by a trained police dog

Think about it for a minute, the answers/explanations are in the comment section.

Scratching

After years of resisting the itch, I've decided to scratch. I'm starting a blog.