Quick One: Apostles at my Baptism

I take this week as a break from Ether 12:4. I don't want you to get sick of it yet. Also I've had a cold. So please enjoy this quick story that I just remembered just now.

Once upon a time... I turned 8. Plot twist! I know!
In my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints, ili Crkva Isusa Krista Svetaca Posljednjih Dana, turning 8 means you get to choose if you want to be baptized. We call it the age of accountability.

My mom would occasionally ask me questions about the program, such as what my favorite primary songs were, who should do the baptizing, and who I wanted there. Naturally, I wanted the Prophet and apostles there. Bless my mom's heart, she said "We'll see. They're busy, but we'll see."

I even wrote a letter to them, telling them about the plans and inviting them to come. I never sent it, but I wrote it. I also told some people that we were going to see if they could come.

I turned 8 on the 5th and had the baptism on the 7th. The big day came. I woke, washed up, and donned my brand new pioneer-esque with dress, complete with apron, that my mom's friend had made for me. I went to my best friend's house so her mom could do my hair. It was my first time ever having french braids! She even weaved a special fabric flower into my hair that had on my wrist at my baby blessing.

I can remember being in the font and seeing the faces above me. I can remember the sound of rushing water as I dipped back and the bubbles that seemed to come around my head. Then I got out of my wet jumpsuit and into my dress. Some people spoke, although I can't remember what was said. I think Gordon Lasson was there and made a comment on how I was dressed and ready long before my dad and how it was because he probably had to dry his hair. My dad was and still is bald. I still don't know what took him so long.

My grandma then got up to speak. She's not "really my grandma" but my "adopted grandma". She's my grandma. She was one of the people whom I had told my prestigious invitation list to.

Before speaking, she went over to the black board and put up pictures of the prophet and all the apostles. She explained she did this so they could be there for my baptism.
But was that good enough for 8 yr old me?
You bet it was!

And that's how I had apostles and the prophet at my baptism. The end.



(Check back here for en exclusive picture from my baptism)

Ether 12:4 - With Surety

 4 Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.

With surety. I'm not sure about much these days, to be honest. I don't know what my favorite band is, what I feel like eating, what I feel at all, what the weather will be tomorrow, when I will see my friends again... I'm not sure if the list ever ends.
Especially now. I'm not sure I'll make it through family dinners, not sure I'll be able to go to that one thing, not sure I'll be able to make it to my bed afterwards. I'm not sure when I will be able to do all these things people normally do on a daily basis. I'm not sure what's wrong with me and what I can do in the meantime.

We're not sure of the future of the world. We're not sure who will still be our friends in a year or so. We're not sure what will happen next month. We not sure of so many things.

To clarify for those unfamiliar with Book of Mormon lingo, "might" in this case doesn't mean "maybe" but "will" or "in consequence of doing so". So in our conversations "I'm not going to on a road trip so I might be able to make it." means "maybe, but I'm not 100% sure." but in this context it means "Because of this I can do that." Make sense?

Now let's look at that pairing. "Surety" and "hope". Isn't that a contradiction? No.
Hope: (n.)
1. a feeling of trust (dictionary/archiac)
2. a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen

Faith, although intertwined, is different. But that's a different post.

Preach My Gospel says,

"[Hope] is manifest in confidence, optimism, enthusiasm, and patient perseverance." (pg.117 Christlike Attributes: Hope) 

It makes sense that if you believe in Christ, and if you have a personal relationship with God, you have trust. Not iffy trust, but sure trust. You can "with surety hope". You can be confident and patient, because you trust God.

The best example I think of, not from the scriptures but from history, are the founding fathers. Let's focus on John Adams.

I love 1776! It's my new favorite musical. My mom doesn't watch many movies, but she actually excited to watch this one with me. By the end, I was in my futball watching stance. Edge of seat, elbows on knees, leaning forward. I knew how it was going to end, I was watching in the United States of America after all! But sweet mercy!

John Adams (Mr. Feeny), Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson
1776 Movie via Pinterest

The vote for independence had to be unanimous. Yet, just barely half were willing to even talk about it! Delaware was split in half and the southern colonies would go with the majority as long as they were able to keep their trade (slavery). Politics wasn't the only problem either. The war front was coming to them, there was home sickness, there was a large group of men stuck together in an unconditioned room (o, the heat), supply shortage, and other issues at hand. Not to mention, dear Mr John was "obnoxious and disliked, did you know that?" ("I hadn't heard")
Even after opening the possibility for debate, the odds were really against him. (His cousin was there too, but he's not in the musical. Sorry, Sam!) It came down to the very last second. THE. VERY. LAST. SECOND! If he didn't have trust, if he didn't surely hope, he would have given up long before. He would have given up when they were obviously sunk, like when the south was adamant that slavery stay legal, like when it took him over a year simply to get people thinking about it, like when he lost faith in himself, like when he got into arguments with is friends, and so forth. But he had that hope! He had that feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen!

It's truly inspiring to watch the events unfold and come together. It wasn't for him, it wasn't for Benjamin Franklin, it wasn't for Thomas Jefferson. It was for posterity. Posterity they would never meet, but would live in a better future.
Watch the movie. You'll get it.

But that's not the end.
"Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world"

Sept 11, Patriots' Day, was last week. As I looked through all the memories of that day in world history, (and I discovered it was, indeed, world history) I saw this theme repeated over and over again. "It was the end of the world as we knew it."
This happened when I was in second grade. I can remember standing in the doorway of my room, watching the TV in my parents room. We had visited those sites just a couple years earlier, when I was in kindergarten. I have been told stories and seen pictures of times when you could go to the airport terminal with someone, either to say goodbye or to pick them up. I've heard stories of times when we weren't so ridiculously cautious. In my experience, travel has been pretty lone. I grew up in this "new world". For me, this paranoia that's in the world is pretty normal.
But according to this scripture, which I know for myself to be true, we can still home for a better world.

Not just that the sun will rise the next day, although we do hope that is the case. This can be taken literally, like in John Adam's case, or figuratively.
It's no secret we all live in our own worlds. I've used this scripture to inspire myself in "down times". When I feel stuck, depressed, discouraged, or what have you. In those times, you can hope with surety that your world will get better. I have seen it for myself. Although you may see no way out of it (as in John Adams case), as if it's the way it will always be, it isn't. I promise you! And you don't have to wait until it happens. You can get to know Christ now and with surety hope for a better world. Hope manifests in wonderful ways! It sets the stone rolling, however slow yet still moving.

Medically, I can hope for a cure or a solution. Physically and emotionally, I surely hope that there will always be someone around to take care of me and support me (something I have experienced many times in the past month alone). Spiritually and mentally, I hope that I will endure, that I won't lose hope or lose sight of what is really important.

The best week of study and growth is when I studied hope. I can't wait to continue discussing it as we continue to explore this verse. I'm so excited! I hope you will get something from it, too!

S ljubavlju!
me






P.S.
I just want to publicly thank everyone who I have bumped into or who dropped a line in my direction. You have no idea how much it meant to me to receive these hugs physically and verbally. Perhaps one of these days I will get to share the whole story. For now, with all my heart I thank you very much!

Ether 12:4 - Meet The Author

I write this post while listening to the sound of thunder and christmas carols, and by the glow of lightening and my humidifier.

I revisited my "all-purpose" verse from my mission. For some reason, I haven't read it since getting back. At least I can now confidently say it is my favorite.

Ether 12:4.

It's chalk full of goodness. (So much so, I am breaking it up into a series of posts.) It's been like a best friend to me. It always knows just what to say. It's always there when I need it. It's always supportive. It's never mean. It's always uplifting. It's Moroni. It's inspiring. It's intellectually stimulating. It's elegant.

Like I said. It's my best friend. If I could live in a verse, this would be it.

Moroni has always amazed me. For some reason, I feel a certain closeness with him, as if he were one of my dear friends. I'm always sad when the book is over and I have to goodbye.
What I find the most amazing about him, is who he is. He's not perfect. Mormon lets us know that. That gives me hope.

For those of you who do not know Moroni, let me give you a quick background. His dad, Mormon, was an incredible general. Both Mormon and Moroni almost their entire lives at war. This isn't your normal feud of the tribes. This isn't even French Revolution. It's horrific. It's terrifying. It's hopeless.
These two people have been at war, almost constantly, since setting foot on the land. Their families are being violated and tortured in grotesque ways. It's not just their families, but their friends, too. no one safe. Mayan like sacrifices are being made. The air stinks with the odor of death.

I distinctly remember putting my book and having to take a moment or two. For some reason, I missed those part the first three times I read the book.

You may have seen one of
these giant statues of Moroni

No one side is good either. The Nephites, Moroni and Mormon's people, have more than their fair share of savageness. Mormon tried to walk away from it all, but his people needed him. As much as he pleaded and taught them, they wouldn't change their ways. So, knowing they would be destroyed, Mormon helps them anyways. Eventually, Mormon dies.

So here's Moroni. He watched his father die. His wife and children have died after experiencing the unimaginable. The surviving of his friends have been scattered. The Nephite army is no more. It's every man for him self. So he goes from hiding spot to hiding spot, finishing a project his father started. He's hunted like a fox. No friends. No family. Alone.
I may be alone, but I will never be Moroni alone.

He even finishes one of his chapters by saying it would probably be the last, and that it's likely he won't live much longer.

Well guess what, he still lives. If you think about it, that's not necessarily a good thing, at least for him. He opens then next chapter like "Well, I'm not dead yet. So... Let's talk about hope!" And I'm sitting in my chair like "Are you kidding me?" What on earth could he hope for?

Not to be confused with this guy. This is a different, but
also awesome, Captain Moroni.

Here, he has EVERY right to feel jaded and depressed. His life is a literal nightmare. But no, he's going to give us some of the most powerful chapters in the entire book. He's going to teach us about faith, hope, and charity. Oh! And look at this other piece of book he found that relates a people that ended up like his. He's the last of his kind? Hunted down by the blood thirsty and terrible? Let's talk about the greatest love that exist. Are you kidding me? Is this guy for real? Yes.

I love Moroni with a deep love.

Ether was a prophet of a people that was also destroyed in a horrific manner, similar to Moroni's. Only one man that just couldn't die, no matter how much he wanted to. But that is an interesting story for another time.












Here's the verse I will be discussing. What are your insights? I just might add your comment in one of my posts, but I will definitely take note of it.

 4 Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.

Another Year Mark: Coming Home Aug 29

This would be the part where I list what I've learned in the past year, right?

Definitely in the top 3 hardest weeks of my life. I was told I was going home.

I didn't want to go. I had given my all. Literally everything, holding nothing back. I had given my whole heart and soul. I was fully ready to die in service to the people I cared everything for. "We don't do that anymore." My president laughed. 

My family calls me in the early hours. They're supportive. They're excited. They're funny. They think it's best. They're helpful.

[Imagine being a pumpkin around Halloween time. You're sawed into, your insides get scrapped out to thin your walls and be sure that nothing is left. All those good seeds... Gutted. Then you get stabbed some more into some design you can't see. But wait! There's a light inside that could not have existed before! And it's warm!

It's a lot like that.]

Last interview. Last night. Last good-byes. 

4:15 am- time to leave Zagreb. 9:45 pm- touchdown in Utah.

I chow on food on the way home. My brother is there, happy to see me. My bed is made for me, complete with a humidifier. It's been a long day of travel and it's late. Time for bed.

I celebrated this mark by making pizza with my brother. What could have been a potentially rough day, turned out to be very nice. Low key, peaceful, and free of emotional pains. What more could you ask for? Oh yes! Let's not forget the pizza! Mmmm-mmmmmmm.

I go to sleep in the same bed, in the same spot, in the same home, with the same pains and problems. And oh! Even the same pajamas!

Life hasn't changed much, except that know we know what I don't have. It got me thinking, what has changed in the past year? What has happened? So what has a year done?

• I've learned how easy it is to forget important lessons, even without distractions. "Oh yeah." is probably the most common statement following received revelation.
• NEVER say you can't. "I can't take it anymore" is a lie. You can. You will. You don't have a choice.
• To that same line, just because you can push yourself further doesn't mean you should. Be smart.
• Medical trails: Physically hard for us, emotionally hard for those around us. Sometimes I wonder if my family is more upset than I am.
• The world isn't against you. It's you and God against your challenges. There is no task too big to take on, and no problem is too complicated for you two. 
• The Infinite Atonement is a book that I wish I read earlier in life. If nothing else, coming to better understand Christ, Heavenly Father, and the Atonement is all worth it. I have learned so much from reading this book.
• Things are planned before you're born. Like when this happened.
• You're not alone. I'm not alone. 
• Prayers are answered. I thought I already knew this, but now I know it.
• It doesn't matter what others think. "I know it and God knows it..." and THAT is what matters. 
• Reflection is underrated.
• Gratitude helps you more than anyone else. This goes for prayers, too!
• God has an amazing sense of humor.
• I read in a couple of my classes that a human will die without social interaction. This isn't true, although it's a nice notion.
• Christ, Heavenly Father, the Holy Ghost, and you make the best team. 
• Heavenly Father is the father of our spirits. He knows us and loves us more than we are prepared to accept. He will put an arm around you when you ask for it, simply because He loves you. Not because it's His duty or anything like that.
• You don't have to know the "why"s.
• Your relationship with God is the only thing that cannot be taken away from you. When you are stripped of everything in your life, it's the one thing that will remain. Even if you don't notice it, it's there. He's there.
• Mormon Tabernacle Choir never gets old.
• God talks to you in a way you will hear. (Music, books, Pinterest, Twitter, old talks, scriptures, and more)
• Open your scriptures. Get dressed for church. Get on your knees. The rest will follow.
• One on one with your Father in Heaven cannot be substituted or compensated by anything else. It's the best way to spend the evening. Don't believe me? Try for yourself.
• At least you can go to school and work and play and laugh and have friends and be accountable and carry heavy things and be given chores! Some of us can't get off the floor without repercussions 
• There's always a reason for gratitude. Always. 
• "How are you doing" is a hard question. Do they mean how am I doing generally? Or do they mean physically?  When they ask how I'm feeling do they mean emotionally? How do I answer? Do I tell the truth? I can't lie. Do I tell them everything I'm feeling? I don't want to be one of those people. How am I feeling? I don't even think I know? This always ends with Well, I'm alive. That's good. So I smile and say "well." Communication is hard.
• There's always something to do. 
• If you can't even move, you can still pray. Prayers are not diminished by brain fog, thank goodness.
• You are more than your mannerisms, your smile your laugh, your habits, and so on. 
• The way I act with certain people is a habit. Weird, eh?
• I'm a chronic dancer. It's been the hardest habit to break.
• A kind line from a friend is grossly underestimated. Thank you to all who randomly think of me! 
• Not being able to play with family will be more difficult to deal with than not being able to do the activities you love.
• We all have troubles and problems. It's best that we face them together.
• It's not always your fault.
• You will learn. 
• Problems are "real". It's not all in your mind. A lot more of it is real than you might think. Trust yourself. Trust what you are feeling. You're not as crazy as you think. 
• It's okay to recognize your needs. Just be sure you pray about it.
• Assumptions are the worse.
• You will survive. If you follow Christ, you will come out conquerer. Even if you feel like you've been left in the tumbler, you can conquer! (Huzzah!)

I've noticed how long this list has become and have decided to stop here. I learned more than I thought! I guess the biggest lesson I can take as I wrap up this first year back is that you never know the whole story. There is always more. God is in control, which means these challenges and trails are part of a masterpiece. 

Thank you for learning with me! I actually really do want to know what you have learned year. 

S Ljubavlju,

Me

Testimony: You Don't Have To Be Special

"In ev'ry condition--in sickness, in health,

In poverty's vale or abounding in wealth,

At home or abroad, on the land or the sea--"

Robert Keen (How Firm a Foundation)

This post is dedicated to everyone who are not in he midst of trial and surgery, who may be on the upward cline of a hill from a dale, who may be sitting pretty on the top of a hill, or who may believe trails are all there is to life.

Well keep sitting pretty.

Have you ever studied hope? It's not just for the hard times.

A few years ago, my roommate just "had" to go to a lecture for her class. Upon meeting me, most people think I strive for lively fun and could never pay attention to a lecture. Sit down for 2 hours after a full day school and homework? Are you kidding? I'd love to! This roommate knows a lot about me, including the secret that I love attending lectures. Add that to the fact we attend different schools, I love hanging out with my roommate, and my could've-been date who said he'd give me the details hadn't talked to me since then and still hadn't made any contact (so I assumed he forgot), I was more than rearing to go!

The lecture: Literature of the Antebellum Period (my roommate was a nursing major at the time, and we still don't understand the connection). The presenter: Dr. Holland.
His dad was there. It wasn't until I was reflecting on this experience I realized how cool it was that his dad goes to his things as possible. This man has a doctorate and is a mature human being. But his dad came anyways.

Did I mention his dad is Elder Holland? He sat six seats directly in front of me with his family.

During that period of my life, I attended a stake institute class, taught by a couple. The favored story of that time was when Bro Institute had his hand shaken by the prophet in some profound way at some critical point in his life. We had even spent an entire class sharing and talking about such experiences.

And here was Elder Holland! His talks had always spoke to me. He was "my" apostle. You know? The one who always says what you need to hear. The one you just feel a profound connection to. Yeah, that one. He was a paper airplane toss away.
Maybe I'd have one of those experiences.
Maybe I would be noticed out of a crowd.
Maybe something something life changing would happen.
Maybe he would give my roommate and I advice.

Or maybe not.
There were plenty of buzzing students in the amphitheater style classroom. We came for the professor anyways.

It occurred to me that my story was missing something all the other stories had. I was quite happy and content with my life. I loved my roommates, school was school, I had no major questions, and my testimony was alive and well. I had no problem. Which is a perfectly fine problem to have. Both of us were in happy places in our lives.

We made it through the long lecture (luckily, he had pictures!), and it was time to pack up and go. The inevitable long line formed to shake the hand of the apostle and to thank the presenter.

My roommate and I talked a little bit as we gathered our stuff. This conversation brought forth the still funny "But you live in you Utah. Don't you see General Authority everywhere?" No. She had met 2 apostles, and I had never met one.

I don't know how it happened, but we ended up being among the last to leave the room. There was one young man talking to Elder Holland and another talk to Dr Holland. The left just as we reach the bottom of the amphitheater.

And that's how we met our friend Elder Holland. He greeted us warmly with hand-shakes. When I told him we shared mutual friends (the grandmas) he got so excited our handshake could have knocked out any hug! We chatted in a familiar fashion and shared many laughs.

My roommate and I flew all the way home. I called my mom as soon as I could to tell her what happened. Turns out she knows him too. Whenever Elder Holland would come up in conversation or was quoted, my roommate and I would look at each other and say "our friend Elder Holland."

So when does the testimony part come in?
It didn't come from Elder Holland (Sorry, friend), it came from the delivery.

I didn't need to meet "my apostle". I didn't need anything really. I was just there to get out of the apartment and spend time with my roommate, and perhaps learn a thing or two.

I didn't need a friend. I had Alison.

I didn't need a warm handshake. I got plenty of affection from friends and relations.

I didn't need to meet a messenger of God.

But I got it anyways.

You don't have to be special to have something special happen to you. I think that is when God's love is really shown. He doesn't love us because we need it. He showers us with love and blessing simply because He loves us.
He is always aware of us. Not just when we cry for Him. He is our father and friend, not just a doctor or master carpenter. He wants to see our happiness increase.
If you don't know it, ask Him. He'll answer you.

The church is true, even when you don't need it to be.

And besides, you're special anyways. If you don't believe me, ask the one who created you. He's listening.

I know for myself that God loves loves you for you. He loves unconditionally. He loves you for your weaknesses and He loves you regardless your strengths. He is our Heavenly Father. His love cannot be comprehended. His hand is in all things. He's in the ups as much as He is in the downs. We are never alone.

PS.
Just as a funny side note, my brother was on his mission at the time. He emailed me saying he was happy about my experience. He had never met an apostle either. A year or so later, I was in the MTC and he got to really know 6 of them. No apostles came to the MTC for the whole two months I was there. Go figure.

Testimony: God Speaks To Everyone

I'm excited to show this video.

For one, it speaks to me, but not personally. Let me explain. If what happened to him happened to me I would still be like "Ummm... Okay."

I love how this video shows that God speaks to each of us in our own time and in a way that we will understand.

You know those "YOU, TOO?!" moments you share that immediately set things in motions, whether it's a realization or a new friendship? This video gave me a couple of those.

Here's the kicker. There must be a lesson I need to learn, because not long after viewing the video and starting this post, I received a message from a friend I hadn't heard from in a while. Isn't that the way these stories always start?!

First, a little background. One of my brothers, the one I wanted to call, served his mission in England. London England South Mission, to be exact. Some of the people he met over there became Facebook friends with us, his family, here in America. It was fun! There were even a few my age, which is always exciting. One of which, I became really good friends with. We messaged each other a lot. He read the Book of Mormon and prayed to know if it was true. Consequently, he was baptized. That's always great! However, he eventually fell away. Our conversations became more and more sparse.

Fast forward to this past week! I get a message from him asking if I was done with my mission and asking how I am. Needless to say, I was excited. Very excited. When I answered, I was surprised to see my excitement reciprocated! To summarize, he finally found the courage to take a step towards his goal of coming to Utah. YEEESSSSSS! More than that! He wanted to be here for the influence. He described his environment to be corrupt. Life had been rough on him, poor kid.
But here's the point of all this. He told me he knew God knew he could be better and wanted him to become the person He knows he could be. He told me God hadn't given up on him.

YOU TOO?!

It happens to me (almost daily), it happened to my friend, it happened to Todd Sylvester, it's happening to you too.
How much our Father in Heaven must love us to constantly and consistently care for us, especially when we choose to ignore Him. I would be so frustrated. He is always reaching out with merciful arms.  I know He lives and that He will always love us, no matter what. He knows you and I better than we know ourselves. I know this by experience. If He can love someone as frustrating as myself, He can and does love you. No buts! If you don't know it, or if you are unsure, ask Him for yourself. He's listening.

S ljubavlju (With Love)
Me.

Aug 29: From Utah to Croatia

This is another one year anniversary post. It's longer than the last, and for that I apologize. It's much. much longer. If you just want a super quick spiritual thought, I suggest you skip to the end.

2013

The day started early. So. Early.
Still, we had friends leave at 5.
Check in at the travel office was something like 7am. We took shifts of sitting with luggage and eating breakfast. Who was in the check-in line behind me, but Sis M! A friend of mine from my Lindon homeward. Her travels would be taking her to the Philippines over a period of 2 or 3 days. Joj!

Some of the younger missionaries woke up early just to say good-bye to us. My, how they have grown! It was sweet, it was heartfelt. Some of us will never see each other ever again. We definitely will never have everyone in the same group. It's a sad thought, but we are itching to serve. Missing friends will have to wait.

Finally, we leave. Who else boards our bus but Sis M!
The bus ride was surreal. I have spent my entire life among the streets of Utah. We drove past my schools, work places, and former neighborhoods. I haven't seen any of this for 2 long months, and I was a very different person then. It was as if we were watching my life past by through our windows. I had traveled that path a hundred times. I had taken the trip to the airport to drop off or pick up other missionaries. And now it was my turn. Finally, my turn.
We talked about our missions, how we felt and which countries or towns we wanted to serve in, taking our last guesses.
My district was a little... crazy. Loud, to say the least. And so it wasn't too much of a surprise that a sister in the front of the bus got really excited.
Are you the Adriatic North mission?
Da. Mismo.
I've been looking for you for 2 months!
She found us at the last possible moment. Her brother was serving in our mission and she wanted us to forward a message of a sister's love to him. Funny how that happens.

We got to the airport with out incident and pour out of the bus.
Our luggage!
Where was our luggage?
15 minutes later, the trailer with out luggage showed up. Sis H and I were among first with all our stuff, so as soon as our district had their things, we led the pack! We were anxious to go! I had rehearsed and imagined what I would say to my brother when I called him. Already, he had done a lot to help me and to this day he still doesn't know. But first things first, I would need to call my mom. She would be waiting. A man hailed us inside.
Sisters! Elders! Come this way elders and sister!
He welcomed us warmly. If you're going to be a missionary in an airport, may I suggest the Salt Lake airport? Even the patrons were excited to see us, always asking questions and giving us good wishes.
We got our tickets, checked our luggage, and wrote the Zagreb address, our new address on our luggage tags.

Through security we went, mingled with the Philippine bound missionaries and more excited patrons. It was here that the well traveled become obvious from the not so well-traveled. Sis O and Elder W seemed to sip through at illogical speeds.
As soon as we got past, we went in search of pay phones to call our families. Well, most of us. Some of us (Sis O and myself) hunted down the airport Cafe Rio. We had planned this for at least a couple weeks. I will justify this action by explaining that is was Cafe Rio, and that I was asked to use my card at every airport so my bank could track me.

Again we took shifts, watching the luggage and using the phones. There really are not that many pay phones in airports anymore. I was able to snag one. My mom had indeed been waiting, not sure when I would be calling. My dad wasn't able to get his conference call thing to work on his phone so it was just my mom and I. The conversation was relatively normal. Do you need more underwear? (Mine had turned pink.) How do you feel? How did you sleep? Don't forget this and that. It was as if I hadn't been gone for 2 months at all, but merely two days.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and explained that we would be boarding soon and that I needed to eat my Cafe Rio. So the phone call was short and hurried.
25 minutes later I was still waiting to board, having only eaten half my salad in my haste. Ugh. Little did I know I would be talking to my mom again, very soon. But I didn't know that then, and I wouldn't have believed it if someone told me. Haters.

We were on our way! There was no turning back now! The flight to Detroit was short and fun. Everyone kept teasing me about how I saw Detroit. I still have no idea what the difference is between the way I say Detroit and the way it's "suppose to be said." Detroit..... Detroit. Detroit. Detroit. Lucky me, I got a window seat. I say I, but really Elder B wanted an aisle seat so we switch. Elder E was in our row with us, too.

It's fitting my mission travels took me to Detroit. I have family that served their missions there. Soon I would fly over the Isle of Wight. The Detroit airport is BIG! So big, there's a monorail inside it. We ran to our next gate, not sure how far away it was. We had just enough time for those who were hungry to go grab a shake. Sis F's family had sent her a cell phone. Bless the family who does so! She was nice enough to share her blessed gift with the rest of us. That is how I finally called my dad. My brother never got his call, sadly.

I hope that whenever I must travel, I travel with a group of friends. Inevitably, games come up. Like who would get to sit next to the nice French priest. (Alas, he was in first class.) Stories from the previous flight, and predictions for upcoming flights. You just can't do that with strangers.
We made friends with the flight attended. A Korean whom learned her english from the Mormon missionaries. Not a member herself, she still refers to all who carry the tag as "her elders". She was funny and very nice.
I was next to Elder B and Elder E again. Ish. We were separated by an aisle. I can't remember who sat on the other side of me, but it wasn't my companion! Luckily, it was still a missionary.

My first international flight.
My first overnight flight.
My first experience with airplane food.
I get the joke now. We were all hungry until we smelled the food. I was curled around the lap desk, trying to ignore the beginnings of jet lag. I think they assumed I was asleep, for they never asked me what I wanted when they came through, but skipped over me. It was best for both of us, since I didn't feel like eating.
Sis H, however, wouldn't have any of that. From her seat, she threw her dinner roll at me, demanding I eat it. She's always looking after me. Haha
I didn't sleep at all. I remember looking up at the flight information and wondering if it would ever end. It said 9 hours left 2 hours ago. Also,I was paranoid from a new game of taking pictures of people while they sleep. They may have a picture of me resting, but not sleeping!

Sis P asked if she could switch seats with me, so she could socialize with those who were still awake. Sure.
That poor lady who woke up next to me! She had started the flight with a brunette, fell asleep next to a blonde, and woke up next to a red head! Needless to say, she was confused. Thankfully, she has a nice sense of humor.
Then! Light!
I've seen this sunrise over a hundred times, she said. Let's switch seats. I prefer the aisle anyways.

I've never seen anything like it.
The French Sunrise.
My first sight of real foreign skies. (Sorry Canada. You don't count.)
To be IN the light.
To be IN sunrise.

Not long after, I had my first glimpse of foreign land.
Red roofs.
Abundant countryside.
Little churches.
Small hamlets.
So quaint.
So... European!

My new travel buddy gave me a crash course on all things French. She's a dual citizen French-American. Her children are American and her husband French. I found out one of her daughters was serving a different kind of mission in Africa. The lady explained she travels between her two homes frequently. She run a foreign exchange program, and depends heavily on Mormon families to take her students in, even though the French families are often trepidatious at the thought. As we all know, Mormons have horns. (<- joke!) She thanked me for watching the sunrise with her. Thank you, nice lady!

Borrowed from AP Mecham: Our first morning in Croatia. Jet lagged and rearing to go!

Charles De Gaulle would have been very confusing if it were not for Sis H and Sis O. Both are fluent in french and one use to live there. Not in the airport, but France. However, according to the not very nice airport lady, Sis H speaks neither French or English. This depressed my dear companion greatly, which I do not take lightly. On the contrary, my security team was very friendly and we even shared some laughs (whoo-hoo for passing college beginning french!). I had forgotten about some bobby pins I stuck on my dress, which they all laugh about. If you asked me, I think we both started the process equally nervous.

We had some time to kill, so we bought pastries and swatch watches, so we could say we bought them in Paris. I bought a quiche which cost my first born child. It wasn't even worth it. We took pictures by billboards, stared at the actual Eiffel Tower, and laughed about the seeing people walk cats on leashes.

We're not even sure what day it is anymore. After taking our first real rest in what seemed like a day, we crammed into a little bus-like thing. It only had about 8 chairs. Some got dressed and cleaned up while waiting.
Our plane was a tiny thing. It had just over a dozen seats, and my entire group was dispersed. I got lucky again. Another window seat in the back, in a row with only two seats. Sis H got seated between two couples, one which spoke French and another that spoke either English, or Croatian, or both. I can't remember. She spent the whole trip translating for the two, which boosted her spirits after the mean ol' airport lady.
I was seated next to a 20 yr old girl from New York. I knew all the missionaries on the plane and she knew everyone else from her father's clubs, bars, and restaurants. We had a wonderful conversation about school and family and what we were doing on the plane. She was visiting her grandmother in a small Croatian village. She gave me a lot of advice on how to make friends and not offend the locals. Number 1: You're an American. People will love you and hate you for this. I found this to be true over and over again.

With her the flight seemed to go by all too quickly. It was time to get off the plane. My groups first time being outdoors in a day. The Zagreb air!
Hot.
Humid.
And smell I will never forget.

We get our passports stamped and go to claim our luggage. Mine is easy to spot as well as Sis P's hot pink luggage. We decide to all leave together. No one is waiting for us in the lounge. Did they know we'd here?

Someone waves! It's not our President or his wife, but they have a name tag! The Westergaurds, from Beaver and somewhere in Arizona! And why are those little girls waving at us?

A tap on my shoulder. I turn around. It's the girl from the plane. She gives me a hug and hurry's off with a good bye before I could say anything. I turn back to my group, many of which have looks of severe empathy. "That was so sweet!" "What did you do Sis Farnsworth!" I'm taken a bit off guard.
*The people of the former Yugoslavia have a reputation for being stubborn, rough things. Stubborn they may be, but never did I go a day without them showing some kind of love to me.

There are no customs to go through, as we expected. We leave the baggage claim and are greeted with hugs. We're helped with out things and take them to various cars. President is there with his family, (it was his daughters who we had seen), the APs (assistant to the president), the first counselor and his wife, are all there to take us to the mission home to shower and change. Sis H and I made friends with our taxi driver, getting grammar lessons. She asks President about him, if he's ever shown interest in learning about what the missionaries teach. He says yes. Has he ever been given a Book of Mormon? He says h doesn't think so. When do we start the lessons? she asks. Impressed with her (who wouldn't be, that girl is amazing) he tells her to go grab a Mormonova Knjiga and together they give it to him. Not even half an hour in the city, and Sis H had already placed her book MK. She is a natural missionary.

Proof of Life! President Rowe, Sestra Farnsworth, Sis Rowe

It's all a little fuzzy after that. I went contacting with a random sister in Zagreb for a while, fell asleep during some kind of orientation in the mission office, emailed my family that I made it (You can actually see that email on this blog, under a similar title to this post), and met some other missionaries. We go back to the mission to be greeted by the best meal any of us have had in ages! Sis Rowe's cooking brought us all back to life. One by one, we go into President's office to meet with him.
I can't remember my meeting that well. I believe he asked about me and my goals, what kind of missionary I wanted to be, why I decided to serve a mission and so forth. I remember he said some things which I had been thinking about.

If you get called to Adriatic North Mission, the downstair room is a place of magic. The shower head changes colors, and the mattresses are made of dreams. I've never slept on anything softer and more comfortable. We all slept like logs.

In the morning, we go one by one back into the office. One by one, we are told our first area, our trainer, and some last words of advice. Mine was a sweet and personal moment.
Novi Sad, Serbia.
Serbia.
Out of my entire district, I had spent the most time studying in Serbian. Everyone else concentrated on Croatian. To be honest, I had no particular reason. I just wanted to.
Serbia.
Novi Sad. The "New Now".
Serbia.
My new home.

Sis H is assigned to Sarajevo. She really really really really wanted to go to Sarajevo! We're both so happy for each other and how we ended up in these places! We try not to think of this as our last good bye. It's likely that we would serve together again. We revel in our last moments as companions, laughing about the American music being played in the taxi and soaking in Zagreb.

We meet our new companions in the Zagreb chapel. We've been told stories about this place. That's were the one picture was taken! Remember the story about such and such! Look over there!

There's a small conference held with trainings and plannings. Then it's see you later, take care, and don't make TOO much trouble as we all head our different directions.

Novi Sad.
New Now.
Serbia.

We arrived late. The country is beautiful. So green! So cute and quaint! I didn't believe places like this  really existed.

And that's how that adventure started.

2014

The day started early. 8am. Later than the day before but still early. Especially since I didn't go to bed until early in the morning.

The long awaited doctor's appointment. I have a feeling nothing too special will happen.
"What day is it?" I ask.
Aug 29.
"Travel day." I respond mindlessly.
"That's right! I was waiting for a call at this time. It's been a year. Just one week until you've had these symptoms for a whole year."
The things we celebrate these days.

The pituitary gland is still big. The spinal chord is fine. No causes discovered. Good news, I don't have MS. Bad news, we're about stumped again.

She has me do tests, such as touching my nose (easy, you find your mouth and you nose comes after), pushing against her, walking heel to toe, and so on. I'm sober!
Plans are made for the future. Perhaps 6 months in the future. I don't want to be sick for that long! But then again, I don't have too much of a choice.

When we get home, I am exhausted. I stay up a little longer. Oh happy day! My brother brought me a salad! Now that's love. I slept until almost 4 o'clock. Wowza!

Soon after, I get asked to babysit. Sure. I just took a nap. I'm still exhausted but it could be worse.
When the kiddos come, we make silky soft play dough. We. Made. Play dough. Can you believe it? We are so industrious! And if that isn't the sprinkles to your doughnut, we added food coloring.
That's how we roll.
In messes and dough.

To finish off the fun, I introduce them to Fern Gully. What can I say? It's a classic! And they love fairies.

Here's an excerpt from the evening.
"If you make a mess, I'll skin you alive."
"What did you say?.... Did you say you'll skin me?"
"Yes."
"What does skin mean?"
"What do you think it might mean?"
"That you'll make it so I don't skin?"
"You got it right."
"But that'll hurt."
"Then don't make a mess."
"You wouldn't do that, because... because... because you are our most very very bestest friend."
"You're just saying that so I don't skin you."
*laughter from the kitchen* [Dang it, someone heard me.]
"No! You're our most very very favorite cousin, and you love us."
I'm their aunt, but I don't correct him. His sister is giggling almost as hard as my mom.
Granny: "Is Aubrey your favorite aunt?"
"Yes!!"
And that is what popcorn and play dough will get you. the love of children you want to keep their skin on their persons.

While they're distracted, I clean up the mess I helped to make. Good thing it's only cornstarch and conditioner.
After they leave, it's time to wind down.

Late at night, in my bedroom, I watch the new mormon messages video, listen to Abraham 4 (because my eyes were killing me), listen to opera (my current exploration), and finally end with a heartfelt prayer of gratitude.

True, not much happened. Nothing exciting or ground breaking shook my world. But I felt a lot of love and hope. And that's enough to make any day feel special.
That feeling still continues today, as I pray and reflect on scriptures and on my personal experiences. I've even had a friend wish me a happy anniversary of the day we met. I did not expect myself to be in a bed, but I didn't expect myself to be headed to Croatia, to live Serbia, 2 years ago.

Every year sees me in a different place than expected, and always for the better. I have no doubt that the pattern still continues, even if I can't see it.

I would like to close this post with the wise words from one of the best movies ever made. Hopefully you can see the connection.

Wherever there is love, it feels like Christmas.