Hooooray for amazingly spiritual sacrament meetings that you KNOW were sent straight from Heavenly Father to bless the lives of His Children--namely Papa Cobby!!! Okay, so Sunday was great. Well, the whole week was great, even with the 7 lesson cancellations we had, but we still managed to work hard. I don't know how I'm still moving, honestly. I'm emotionally exhausted most of the time, but it's sooooooooooo worth it. The worth of souls is great in the eyes of God. And so if it means losing sleep and working to the bone and just being tired all the time, I'm more than willing. I literally have felt no greater joy. The thing I most scared of is when President Ernst releases me. I'm only scared because I can imagine myself as he asks me to remove my name tag...I see it now--me throwing over a table and bursting out the door, running wild-eyed to the nearest door for me to knock on and to share my testimony of the powerful effect that the Gospel can have in the lives of all people who are willing to use it. Buuuut then I'm pretty sure the loony bin would come pick me up and I'd be done. Which reminds me of the time that Sister Woznow and I were waiting in a mental hospital for us to talk to one of our investigators and they were under lock down because a fight broke out, so she and I were waiting with some of the teens who were admitted and I just looked at her and said, "how did we end up here?" And we proceeded to come up with a scenerio of me in a mental hospital 30 years down the road, wearing a hideous mumu of sorts, a broken video tape in hand and a black piece of paper on my chest, going from room to room trying to pass out my "Book of Mormon."..............I'm thinking that the whole scenerio was funnier when it wasn't typed out. Oh well, I fwd these emails to Sister Woznow and she'll get a kick out of it at least!! Man, the stories I will have to share...
Anyway, back to Sunday. So in our YSA a girl gave her homecoming talk. It was so moving what she said, and how profoundly she spoke about her experiences as a missionary. It hit me then that in just a little bit, I'm going to be an RM. What?! I never thought I would say those letters coupled together that mean so much, "Oh me? Oh yeah, I served a mission...I'm an RM." Those two words simply do not justify the experiences I had over the past 18 months. RM (return missionary) is a simple phrase that represents so much. All of who I am I owe to my Savior and my mission. Every ounce. And so anyway, I speak in the YSA next Sunday. So we jet from our YSA after sacrament to get to our family ward. We see Franki (WHO IS BEING BAPTIZED ON SATURDAY!!!!!!) and my heart just flutters with excitement for him. He's so wonderful. I cannot wait to see him be baptized and confirmed and rejoin the fold of our Heavenly Father. And this is where the most amazing Sacrament meeting happened!!!! This young man gave his farewell and said how he was serving for himself and his older brother, who cannot go due to health restrictions. And then I sang "His Hands" per request of the Bishop. I had just sung it two days prior completely perfect, but yesterday I had a couple voice cracks. It was really weird. But then I was taught that its not always through the most intellectual vessels or perfect strands of music that our hearts are touched by the Spirit. I was thankful to be able to share my talent that Heavenly Father has given me. And then the lady who spoke after me was just fabulous. She talked about losing her husband to cancer 6 years ago and how she was left alone with 5 little kids to take care of. She talked about how Heavenly Father will ALWAYS answer our prayers--just not necessarily through the means that we desire. He's an amazing God. And Waymond (Papa Cobby) has been struggling so hard with that. And he realized yesterday that it's about work. He isn't doing his part, and therefore he cannot expect the answers--whether it's in the way he desires or not. He's come so far even since I've first met with him. Aaaaand then I was asked to speak in the family ward. So next Sunday I'll be giving 2 talks, and my comp and I are doing a fireside for the youth. Craaaaaaay-zaaaaaaay!!
I find myself looking at my nametag more often now than ever. I feel the light weight of it on my left collarbone and feel so blessed to wear a little plastic black rectangle that represents so much. In just 8 short days I'll be home, and my nametag won't reside on my shoulder anymore. I remember when Ryan Greenburg came home from his mission and he was talking to me and he was like, "I came home and everything looks the same. It's as if I wasn't even gone, like it was a dream. But I know it happened." I know that's how it's going to be for me, and though I may not wear my Savior's name on my shoulder anymore, I definitely have His name permanently on my heart, where it will always be.
I love you all so much and am so thankful for the support you've given to me over the past 18 months. I'll email once more before I go home, but it probably won't be anything too interesting because I'm sure I'll be in shock.
love love love,
sister mack
picture one: Me giving Sister Leilua a piggy back ride on the hike down at RedRock
picture two: Sister Dixon, myself, and Sister Woznow--my babies I was sooooo so sooooooooooo blessed to train!!!
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