One month before my assigned homecoming date my companion, Sister Sandoval, and I were getting ready for church and planning on picking up our investigators. I felt TERRIBLE that day. I was on my period and normally have bad cramps so I thought nothing of it. I said a prayer, sucked it up, and went out to find our investigators! We arrived at church and I began to play prelude before the meeting started. The pain got worse and worse, and I felt so ill. After ten minutes or so I felt so sick and knew I was going to throw up. I grabbed my companion and booked it out of the chapel and made it to the parking lot before the throwing up started. I felt so terrible and there was a pain in my stomach that was indescribable. After throwing up I made it to the bathroom in the church. All the cute members were so concerned and so caring, they made me herbal teas trying to make me feel better as I was lying on the floor. I just cried and cried because nothing was working. I told my companion that we just needed to go home so I could rest, but luckily a wise and in-tune mission leader said we had to get to the hospital.
As we were driving to the hospital, a very special thought came to my mind. It was, "I understand." Something very simple, but very reassuring. I knew right then and there that my Savior understood exactly what I was feeling, because he suffered for my physical pains. It was an opportunity for me to experience the Atonement on a more physical side, and to have the surety that someone understood.
We got to the hospital, I tried to remember Spanish as I fought through the pain. The doctor got me into a bed and got some medicine in me to help numb the pain. The cute missionary nurse, Sister (Megan) Holbrook, was the best thing that ever happened to me at that time. She kept me laughing and kept me happy as we waited for the doctors to figure out what was wrong with me.
After much testing, a few ultra sounds, etc. They told me that over my life I had been accumulating blood on the outside of my right ovary. It had turned into a cyst, the size of a grapefruit, and that cyst had, as I like to say, EXPLODED inside of me. There was over a gallon of blood in my abdominal cavity and I was in need of an emergency surgery. First off, I have never had surgery in my life! The worst thing that has ever happened to me was stitches when I was 5. Needless to say I was TERRIFIED! The doctors still weren't sure if they would have to remove my ovary, or if my left ovary had problems, there were so many unknowns. I felt scared, I felt so unsure. I regret this now but I got to call my poor parents and all I said was "Daddy I'm scared." Later my parents told me that they had never felt so helpless. This was out of their hands because they were thousands of miles away, and they too had to trust in the Lord. My Mission President, President Ghent, was called and he immediately came over. He walked into the room, didn't say a word, and just came and grabbed my hand. It was the most comforting, most fatherly thing he could have done. He gave me a special blessing and gave me the surety and faith that all would turn out well and that I would heal properly. After he gave me the blessing, fear ceased and I was ready to trust in the Lord completely.
Surgery went great, I had to stay in the hospital for 4 days with tubes in my stomach to drain the blood. Sister Holbrook and I worked it! We contacted all the nurses and doctors, after all we were still missionaries! The doctors who performed my surgery told me that I still needed to receive treatment, and needed to start immediately. The question then came up, can I wait three weeks until I go home to start? The decision wasn't up to me, but to my parents and President Ghent. I thought I would be able to stick it out the three weeks and then return home at my planned date. A week passed after my recovery and I was called into President Ghent's office. He gave me the news that I was going home that Wednesday. At first my heart just sunk. There was still work to be done! I had just gotten to a new area and my companion and I were finding all these new people! I couldn't leave! It wasn't my time! As I sat in shock and sadness for a bit, I finally came to the realization that my Mission President was a servant of the Lord (DUH!), and that if he said that I had served faithfully and done what the Lord expected of me, then I could go home with honor.
This experience was the "crowning moment" of my mission, as my Stake President would say. Looking back I can't imagine ending any other way. I learned SO many things. First, as I mentioned before, the atonement is SO real. I got to experience it in a more physical way. My suffering was NOTHING compared to the Savior's, but suffering through that pain made me think, WOW! He suffered this x 1 billion and did it because he loves me and loves us ALL! I also learned to trust in the Lord. In most situations of life, we can't control what will happen, it can be so frustrating! But when we keep an eternal perspective, and have full and complete trust in God, we can be assured that whatever happens is for our perfecting and for our betterment.
Coming home was great. I remember that it didn't really hit me until I was on my flight from Atlanta to Utah and some guy in front of me started talking to me. He had also served a mission and it was fun to reminisce. As we landed and he walked away he said "Welcome Home." My heck! I wasn't home! Ecuador was my home! Just kidding, I love Utah and wanted to see my family desperately, but I had left a piece of my heart behind that was so big I didn't think it could be filled again. As I came down the escalator and saw my family, it was all real. As I tried to run to them (remember this is a week after surgery) I hugged them and they could finally see that I was safe and alright. The surgery I went through really brought my family together, because all of us came together in prayer and faith, and we all relied on the Lord for my safety. We were a happier family, founded upon the rock of Christ.
Well, I have now been home for a little over three months. Life is different, very different, from a mission. I still hold onto my memories of Ecuador and its people, and at times wish I could go back. I have now started a new phase of life, but it doesn't mean that I have to forget. According to the certificate that hangs on my bedroom wall, I have "Returned with Honor." What does that even mean? It means I have honorably served a full time mission. Honorably, meaning I tried to be exactly obedient, I loved the people, I came closer to my Savior, and I had a determination to serve him with all my heart, might, mind and strength. Now that I don't have a missionary tag, it doesn't mean that I should forget what being an honorable missionary means. We made a covenant when we were baptized to be a witness of God at all times, things and places. That means being his representative, being his missionary! There are so many return missionaries that go back to their normal "worldly" lives, and it's not okay! My life was changed more than I could EVER express because of my mission and me accepting and living the principles I taught everyday. I am far from perfect, but that is never an excuse to not be better! I can do it, we can do it! Through Christ, all is possible, I learned it on my mission, and that eternal truth still burns bright in my heart.
