16 June 1999
Two years ago, I chose a topic to blog about. I decided to write about my mission as it happened twenty years to the date(ish). My final blog post about this topic is this:
So many emotions and feels. Twenty years ago today, I returned from my mission. My Mom Rebecca and I had toured the mission and several other places. St. Petersburg, Voronezh, and all over Moscow.
As my mom passed away three years ago, I wonder how deep an impact my service was and what it meant to her. Before I left on my mission, she and I made an agreement, She would read the scriptures daily and I would write to her every week. Before this time, she and I had a terrible relationship. We both kept to this agreement. I'd like to think that sharing in my service vicariously through letters, and reading the scriptures daily, had a positive impact on her life, changing her life's course for the better.
I felt the missionary mantle leave me about a month prior to my mom picking me up. As though my work was coming to completion. I had started exercising in order to get in shape for dating. The problem was that I had learned how to cook during my mission and had consequently gained some weight. One of my more popular dishes with other missionaries were the "Woodbury Brownies". There was no such treat in Russia at the time and I had figured out a recipe using Russian ingredients. Another fun treat was popcorn. I'd make it in a pot with butter using imported popcorn kernels. It was a treat that was available in a few movie theaters but was expensive, so most people hadn't really had the pleasure.
I had drawn up a strict itinerary for the two weeks my mom and I would tour the country. Visiting many of the people I had learned to love. I learned that when you serve someone, your love for them grows. I was excited to show my mom the mission and so many of the people I had grown to love.
The first thing I introduced my mom to after arriving from the airport was a mistake. I took my poor, jet-lagged mom, on the subway. It kind of freaked her out. It's just that was the way I was used to getting around. After that meltdown, we took a taxi everywhere. We went out to visit "The Family" for dinner. Their hospitality put her at ease. Galina's cooking always amazed me, and I knew my mom would love their spirit. The Family had, had a Utah news crew come out and do a story on them a few months prior to this and were getting lots of attention because they joined the church.
I took my mom to see many other things those few days, Red Square, Lennon's mausoleum, several museums, besides having dinner with the mission president, we also visited victory park, a very popular world war two museum. We attended church and then got on the train to travel overnight to Saint Petersburg. I had never been there, so we relied on a tour guide my mom hired, to show us around. We hit a few of the MANY things to see, the few days we were there. The most impressive tourist trap was Catherine's palace. A "must see" for anyone that visit's St. Petersburg.
We then took the train back to Moscow, toured around for the day then hopped back on a train headed to my favorite city in Russia, Voronezh. It was coined the Disneyland of the mission. It really lived up to that moniker.
*Writing with kids playing, yelling and screaming around me is a warmly, pleasant distraction. My apologies if the story skips around a bit. I'm trying to get this written before the deadline.
Some of my most fond memories are those of these few days in Voronezh. The members treated me as warmly as family. Some I had known from my time in service there, and many fresh new faces. One of whom was an African guy named Richard. He had come to Russia as a student but was having difficulty trying to get a visa to exit the country and get back home to Africa.
One of the most fun things about the Voronezh branch was that we would frequently go out to a favorite picnic spot in the countryside by a deep river, have a picnic with a devotional, and perform an occasional baptism. This time however, I had been released as a missionary, so after the baptism, I was happy to swim with the members in the river. We had a blast hanging out, swimming and playing on the rope swing and spent way too long in the sun. We all eventually made our way back to the city in various groups, based on our tolerance level to the sun that day.
The next day, we went to church. I was excited to see the new church owned, meeting house. Before this time, we had rented a space in an art gallery that prominently displayed very vivid, lifelike, nude paintings. Which was very distracting to a celibate missionary. My friends showed me around the new meeting house. I was in awe of the meetinghouse, it had a place for everyone to meet, even a baptismal font and pictures of Christ adorned the walls, it was everything we had always wanted.
At the meetings that day, no one had seen Richard at church and come to find out, he hadn't returned home that previous night either. Later that day someone took scuba gear and searched the river near the picnic spot, eventually finding his body. Although, not able to return home physically, he was at least able to return home spiritually.
On that sad note, I said my official goodbye to Russia. Leaving in a way that Richard could not. The Voronezh members there have a tradition of running along side the train as it pulls away from the station. I shed many tears that day as watched my friends and loved ones run along side the train. Afterwards, I reflected on a poem that was read to me in the missionary training center two years before. Then, I wrote the longest journal entry of my entire mission.
THE MISSION
I stared out the window,
The tears still in my eyes,
I saw the friends and those I loved,
As we said our last goodbyes.
The ride was long and trying;
Two questions plagued my mind.
Do I want the life that's up ahead
Or the one I left behind?
Two years is such a long, long time,
For going door to door.
In my reflecting, I thought to myself--
There really must be more.
I dragged myself down off the plane
and stood smiling at the beach.
There a man turned to me,
Saying, "Elder, go and teach."
I sit reflecting once again
As this day is my last.
Please, Lord, this isn't fair,
The time goes way too fast!
I stared out the window,
The tears still in my eyes.
I see the elders and sisters and those I love,
As we say our last goodbyes.
The ride was long and trying;
Two questions plagued my mind.
Do I want the life that's up ahead
Or the one I left behind?
--Author Unknown
After the long flight back to New York, before we landed, I started hearing meowing. Apparently someone had smuggled kittens on-board. Oh the things that we could do, pre-9-11. When the plane touched down, there was a cheer that erupted in the plane, I had to admit, it felt good to finally be home.
After the flight arrived in Salt Lake City, I was welcomed to a large homecoming of many friends and family that met me at he gate. After which, we rushed to the hospital to see my new niece, who had been born, hours before we arrived. I hadn't yet met Cortney either. It was my first time meeting both Cortney and Alyssa. Although I'd seen many pictures of Cortney.
Twenty years later, little did I know just how much I'd reflect on those two years of service to my fellow man. Serving how I saw Christ would have done. How easy, yet challenging it was to give my entire heart and soul to the service of God. And thus concluded my two years service as a missionary for the church of Jesus Christ of latter day saints.
Two years ago, I chose a topic to blog about. I decided to write about my mission as it happened twenty years to the date(ish). My final blog post about this topic is this:
So many emotions and feels. Twenty years ago today, I returned from my mission. My Mom Rebecca and I had toured the mission and several other places. St. Petersburg, Voronezh, and all over Moscow.
As my mom passed away three years ago, I wonder how deep an impact my service was and what it meant to her. Before I left on my mission, she and I made an agreement, She would read the scriptures daily and I would write to her every week. Before this time, she and I had a terrible relationship. We both kept to this agreement. I'd like to think that sharing in my service vicariously through letters, and reading the scriptures daily, had a positive impact on her life, changing her life's course for the better.
I felt the missionary mantle leave me about a month prior to my mom picking me up. As though my work was coming to completion. I had started exercising in order to get in shape for dating. The problem was that I had learned how to cook during my mission and had consequently gained some weight. One of my more popular dishes with other missionaries were the "Woodbury Brownies". There was no such treat in Russia at the time and I had figured out a recipe using Russian ingredients. Another fun treat was popcorn. I'd make it in a pot with butter using imported popcorn kernels. It was a treat that was available in a few movie theaters but was expensive, so most people hadn't really had the pleasure.
I had drawn up a strict itinerary for the two weeks my mom and I would tour the country. Visiting many of the people I had learned to love. I learned that when you serve someone, your love for them grows. I was excited to show my mom the mission and so many of the people I had grown to love.
The first thing I introduced my mom to after arriving from the airport was a mistake. I took my poor, jet-lagged mom, on the subway. It kind of freaked her out. It's just that was the way I was used to getting around. After that meltdown, we took a taxi everywhere. We went out to visit "The Family" for dinner. Their hospitality put her at ease. Galina's cooking always amazed me, and I knew my mom would love their spirit. The Family had, had a Utah news crew come out and do a story on them a few months prior to this and were getting lots of attention because they joined the church.
I took my mom to see many other things those few days, Red Square, Lennon's mausoleum, several museums, besides having dinner with the mission president, we also visited victory park, a very popular world war two museum. We attended church and then got on the train to travel overnight to Saint Petersburg. I had never been there, so we relied on a tour guide my mom hired, to show us around. We hit a few of the MANY things to see, the few days we were there. The most impressive tourist trap was Catherine's palace. A "must see" for anyone that visit's St. Petersburg.
We then took the train back to Moscow, toured around for the day then hopped back on a train headed to my favorite city in Russia, Voronezh. It was coined the Disneyland of the mission. It really lived up to that moniker.
*Writing with kids playing, yelling and screaming around me is a warmly, pleasant distraction. My apologies if the story skips around a bit. I'm trying to get this written before the deadline.
Some of my most fond memories are those of these few days in Voronezh. The members treated me as warmly as family. Some I had known from my time in service there, and many fresh new faces. One of whom was an African guy named Richard. He had come to Russia as a student but was having difficulty trying to get a visa to exit the country and get back home to Africa.
One of the most fun things about the Voronezh branch was that we would frequently go out to a favorite picnic spot in the countryside by a deep river, have a picnic with a devotional, and perform an occasional baptism. This time however, I had been released as a missionary, so after the baptism, I was happy to swim with the members in the river. We had a blast hanging out, swimming and playing on the rope swing and spent way too long in the sun. We all eventually made our way back to the city in various groups, based on our tolerance level to the sun that day.
The next day, we went to church. I was excited to see the new church owned, meeting house. Before this time, we had rented a space in an art gallery that prominently displayed very vivid, lifelike, nude paintings. Which was very distracting to a celibate missionary. My friends showed me around the new meeting house. I was in awe of the meetinghouse, it had a place for everyone to meet, even a baptismal font and pictures of Christ adorned the walls, it was everything we had always wanted.
At the meetings that day, no one had seen Richard at church and come to find out, he hadn't returned home that previous night either. Later that day someone took scuba gear and searched the river near the picnic spot, eventually finding his body. Although, not able to return home physically, he was at least able to return home spiritually.
On that sad note, I said my official goodbye to Russia. Leaving in a way that Richard could not. The Voronezh members there have a tradition of running along side the train as it pulls away from the station. I shed many tears that day as watched my friends and loved ones run along side the train. Afterwards, I reflected on a poem that was read to me in the missionary training center two years before. Then, I wrote the longest journal entry of my entire mission.
THE MISSION
I stared out the window,
The tears still in my eyes,
I saw the friends and those I loved,
As we said our last goodbyes.
The ride was long and trying;
Two questions plagued my mind.
Do I want the life that's up ahead
Or the one I left behind?
Two years is such a long, long time,
For going door to door.
In my reflecting, I thought to myself--
There really must be more.
I dragged myself down off the plane
and stood smiling at the beach.
There a man turned to me,
Saying, "Elder, go and teach."
I sit reflecting once again
As this day is my last.
Please, Lord, this isn't fair,
The time goes way too fast!
I stared out the window,
The tears still in my eyes.
I see the elders and sisters and those I love,
As we say our last goodbyes.
The ride was long and trying;
Two questions plagued my mind.
Do I want the life that's up ahead
Or the one I left behind?
--Author Unknown
After the long flight back to New York, before we landed, I started hearing meowing. Apparently someone had smuggled kittens on-board. Oh the things that we could do, pre-9-11. When the plane touched down, there was a cheer that erupted in the plane, I had to admit, it felt good to finally be home.
After the flight arrived in Salt Lake City, I was welcomed to a large homecoming of many friends and family that met me at he gate. After which, we rushed to the hospital to see my new niece, who had been born, hours before we arrived. I hadn't yet met Cortney either. It was my first time meeting both Cortney and Alyssa. Although I'd seen many pictures of Cortney.
Twenty years later, little did I know just how much I'd reflect on those two years of service to my fellow man. Serving how I saw Christ would have done. How easy, yet challenging it was to give my entire heart and soul to the service of God. And thus concluded my two years service as a missionary for the church of Jesus Christ of latter day saints.
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