Possibly Insightful Ramblings

. . . I went to New Jersey. Dnepr, anyone? And I decided I'm going to live on the East Coast when I grow up. Because . . . well, just look. Yes. And again . . . Done. And while I was there, I spent time with friends I love a lot. About to go on my first American train. (With the same person who took me on my first Ukrainian train. Fitting.) Aw, cute! Genny's cool.  And I made some new friends. Yes, that is a squirrel coming out of the storm drain. 'Nuff said.  And I learned a lot about family and the importance of protecting the sanctity of marriage. And that happened in classrooms like these: I vote we get some of these at BYU And then I went to New York for church. And we saw cool things along the way. Obligatory Times Square hanging of the lamp post shot. Central Park with another friend I love a lot! Hey, look! It's a temple! :) The moral of the story is: families are critical to society, my friends ...

Two years ago today, I received the best and most life-changing letter that has ever entered my hands. I'll never forget those feelings I had as I sat in my living room surrounded by family and friends and broke the seal on that white envelope. Those were moments of pure happiness. I've learned a few things since that day. For one thing, I sound much less American now when I say "Dnepropetrovsk" than that first valiant attempt. But one of the sweetest lessons I learned on and after my mission was what great a gift that was packaged up in that white envelope. While serving a mission was the hardest thing I'd done up to that point, each day taught me what a great gift it was to be a servant of the Lord. I keenly felt the responsibility and the power of the mantle of missionary as I labored in the Lord's vineyard. I relished that calling. I felt much like Mormon said to his brethren: "it is by the grace of God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ . . . be...

This evening I spent a few hours in one of my favorite buildings on campus. Isn't it pretty? It's even prettier when the line goes outside and wraps around a couple other buildings. Although the imposing walls of the Heber J. Grant building instill a feeling of dread in the hearts of many students as they anticipate with trepidation the impending mental taxation that will be placed upon them and the subsequent negative ramifications on their grade, that building has become a sanctuary for me. Now, don’t get me wrong, I worry about my exams just as much as the next neurotic college student. I do the requisite amount of fretting, fearing, with of course a bit of studying thrown in there before I hand my ID card to the friendly student behind the desk and take my cover sheet into the big open room of testing. But once the pre-test worry draws to its conclusion and I walk up the broad staircase into the pink-ceilinged elegance of the testing center, my dread slips away. ...

Today marks one month since I took off my little black badge and began the journey of returning to a life I’d forgotten. I feel much the same way I did after my first month living in Ukraine – looking back I feel like it has been the fastest and longest month of my life. I’ve gone to school for three weeks now, written some papers, learned some o chem, renewed friendships, made a lot of new friends, learned how to take care of mutant, green-glowing worms, but most of all, I’ve learned a great deal about how to live.  Being back at the campus on which I studied for years before my mission is a somewhat surreal feeling. It brings home to me all the changes that have occurred in my life. There are, of course, those superficial changes, such as my tendency to sing hymns and Primary songs in the grocery store in a delightful combination of Russian and English. And my propensity to call people “sister” rather than their first names.  And replying to non-Russian speakers in Russ...

You use terms like "key indicators." You awkwardly pause whenever someone asks your name You don't recognize your name when you actually do say it to people You speak in Russian to kids and puppies You have a mild panic attack when the person walking with you turns a corner and you can't see her for a split second You quote The District. All the time. You have to actively restrain yourself from stopping every single person you see on campus to engage them in a gospel conversation You feel sad when you hear English spoken You constantly ask, "Is this a consecrated use of time?" You miss drinkable yogurt You are filled with intense joy while eating Little Caesar's pizza because there is no dill or mayonnaise on it  You feel guilty in stores if you're not making conversation with everybody around you You wish you could just hop on a marshrutka instead of walking everywhere You try to stick with a 'companion' as much as possible. Y...

Early Tuesday morning, Sister Dimick, Sister Lewis, and I woke up for the last time in the comfortable bedroom of the mission home. It was quite fitting that we had begun our journey as missionaries together 18 months before, and now were ending it together. It seemed to us that we had just barely flown into country, and now President was driving us to the airport to get on the plane that would take us away. It was a very surreal feeling as we went through security, said our goodbyes, and boarded the plane to Kyiv. My heart was full of emotion as we flew away and I watched the Dnepr river and the streets and buildings I love pass from underneath me. After an exciting layover in Kyiv where we all managed to make it to our planes on time, I had a wonderful conversation on the plane to Amsterdam with a man from Kyiv. He quickly became like a grandpa to me and he shared with me his wisdom from many years of travel (not to mention he taught me the word 'vestibular' in Russian). We...

A week ago, I was talking to President vanBruggen on the phone and he told me that the new missionaries were going to be delayed entering the country for two weeks. Excited, I expected to him to tell me that I could stay for those extra two weeks until Sister Esplin's new companion arrived. But alas, he did not grant such a thing, telling me that my mother and the missionary department would be strictly against such a state of affairs. So last night I sent my dear little Sister Esplin away with a temporary companion and I am now sitting in the mission home looking at the Dnepr River and thinking about how much I love my mission. As sad as I am to be leaving my mission, I am filled with intense gratitude as I think about all the blessings of this past year and a half. I would not trade this time of my life for anything in the world. I will be infinitely grateful to a loving God who allowed me to serve His children in this beautiful land of Ukraine. We saw so many miracles t...