Homeward Bound

The phone rang Tuesday morning during the middle of companion study. Neither Sister Coy nor I heard it. It wasn't until we were about to make some phone calls to members that we noticed that our mission president had called. We both looked at each other, guessing what this meant. I was going home.

Earlier that day I had been praying and came to the comforting conclusion to have patience with God. This was His plan after all. He knows what's going to happen. I figured that I would not hear back about when I would be going home until next week, so I prayed to have patience. Everything was out of my control now. I was completely in the Lord's hands, and I asked him to help me bear my burden while I was still on my mission.

And the phone call came that very same day.

My mission president told me that the plane would leave the following morning. Peace, then guilt, then minor panic washed over me. I was finally going home! I could finally breath and take care of myself. But what about our area? What about all the people we were teaching, the members to say goodbye to, the exchanges later in the day? I had to pack EVERYTHING I owned as well as prepare to spend the night in another sister missionary's area.

But the peace won out. For once.

Sister Coy and I packed quickly, said goodbye to as many members as we could, then went with another sister missionary to her area to teach. My companion kept asking me how I was doing, and I said the truth: I felt fine. A little nervous to see my parents, but completely at peace. That same feeling lasted all the way through the plane ride home (minus the security-check. NO ONE likes those).

One thought did pop into my mind before leaving Mesa: I am alone. After having a companion 24/7 for six months, I am now alone. I don't even have someone to sit next to on the ride to Salt Lake! Besides my family, I know very few people back at home. I have no friends there. 

I am utterly alone.

The tears started to come. I had wondered when they would. They had held off for an unusual amount of time, but now they came. 

And then I remembered. 

I remember the feelings I had when I prayed about the decision to come home, the love, comfort, and peace I felt. God had never abandoned me, although there were MANY days where I felt like maybe he did. He was always there. He knew from before I submitted my mission papers that this would happen, and he had a plan for me. He was not going to abandon me. I could feel that. I knew that going home was the right thing for me. I knew it when I ran down the stairs and into my mother's arms at the airport. I knew it when I snuggled up into the warm bed later that night. Now is the time for my spiritual healing. 

As the famous LDS hymn states, "All is well!"

And it is.