Home. . . The Next Chapter

     Sorry it's been so long since I've written an email, I've been putting it off because this is a difficult one to write and to accept. As the title suggests, I am officially home. I don't particularly want to be home, I wasn't expecting to be home, and I'm having trouble accepting that I'm home. This was a complete surprise to me, I didn't ask to go home or anything it was not on my mind in the slightest. President Johnson just woke me up one morning at 5:30 and was like, the spirit says you're going home. Wait what?! So we talked about it for a half an hour and then I asked when my flight was and that's when I was informed that it was at 8am and that I had 30 minutes to pack. So very surprising, very sudden, and very heartbreaking. I've put my entire heart and soul into Layton Utah for the past 14 months and to have it snatched from me so quickly was incredibly difficult to process. So I decided to go right back to Layton after getting home. 

      I got home Saturday night and by Monday I was back on a flight to Layton to go see the baptism of Jeff. My trip back to Utah was an amazing experience. It allowed me to have some closure on the part of my mission that was spent in Layton. I got to say goodbye to a lot of the people I had met and Jeff's baptism was just the best. Jeff is a lifelong disciple of Jesus Christ and the gold standard for how missionary work should be done for many reasons. 1. The Clinton 31st Ward went above and beyond what we were expecting them too in terms of ministering. Jeff is best friends with his bishop now and super familiar with his ward, which means that he was converted to the church as opposed to converted to the missionaries. Too many times we see someone meet with the missionaries, get baptized, and then stop trying to become more like their Savior after the missionaries that taught them go to another area. 2. Jeff's baptism wasn't rushed. Unfortunately, because the number of baptisms that you have gets reported to the mission president there's always a sense of urgency to get people baptized before the missionaries get transferred from the area. I don't know how to fix that issue because of how necessary it is to report the numbers, but I feel like something needs to be done. Even I fell prey to this pressure throughout my time in Utah and I was WAY less pushy than a lot of missionaries. Unfortunately, we tend to baptize people before they're ready. Not Jeff though, Jeff would just flat out tell us that he wasn't ready and we weren't very pushy while teaching Jeff, probably because it was obvious to us that Jeff would get baptized some time, but I'm really glad that he told us no because from the outside looking in he seemed to be 4 times as ready as some others, but he told us no for months before finally feeling like he was ready and because of this we know that he has been personally converted, knowing for himself that the church is what he wanted in his life and to grow closer to his Savior. 3. The ward accepted him as who he was without judgement. Jeff and Bishop Porter first interaction ended up being the Bishop driving Jeff to the store to get some beer. Jeff has come to church a little bit drunk a couple times, he was in a hoodie and jeans, and nobody cared. All they did was put their arms around him and encourage him to continue to get to know his Savior. I have a special connection with Jeff, we've literally laughed and cried together. There's been multiple occasions where I just broke down crying at his house and one day when I couldn't take it anymore I went to Jeff's house to talk about it and recieve comfort because he was the person I wanted to talk to most. We both grew so much over those 7 months, he's the one I gave that awesome blessing to, he's the one who clapped for me after I bore my testimony, he's the one who made me cry while writing this because I'm thinking about him (in the middle of a Whataburger too, how embarrassing), and he's the one that has made it all worth it. All the pain, anguish, sorrow, that comes from having a freaking death eater encircle you for 5 months and who won't leave you alone no matter what you do, he's the one that makes all of it. Every. Single. Minute of it. Every agonizing second, it's all worth it and I'd do it again if that would be able to take them from where Jeff was to where he is now. 

       It's been clear to me that home is where I'm supposed to be, but it's still been really difficult to accept. I've learned that failure is my biggest fear and even though I know that I haven't failed, it's hard to remind myself of that sometimes. Luckily my depression has become so much better than it was, but with that has come a lot of anxiety. I'm learning more and more that anxiety is the root of most of my mental health issues. It's nothing I can't handle though, I've learned some great ways to deal with emotional health and for the most part I can just step away from what I was doing for a couple hours before I'm good. With that being said, I've had to step away from quite a bit, like my service assignments, but also from things that I enjoy doing like hanging out with my friends.

        The gospel has still been here for me though and I've continued to have some really cool experiences. One that I'd like to share happened pretty soon after I got home. This particular Sunday night we had our family and 3 other families over for dinner and just the entire night I felt awful. This pit in my stomach was preventing me from doing anything, eating, smiling, walking, and basically anything else. At one point it was decided that I should get a priesthood blessing. So I started to walk to the next room over where we would do the blessing, but after about only 10 steps I completely panicked for no explainable reason. I started crying and screaming and collapsed to the ground taking my mom down with me. Since I wasn't able to get to the designated room, everyone came out to meet me in the middle of the hallway. I was promptly given the consecrated oil and then was given the blessing. It was one of the most spiritual experiences I've ever had, not because of what was said, but because of the spirit and the love that could be felt, a love that could only come from Heaven. By the end of the blessing, everyone was either crying or tearing up, which I think is impressive considering there were like 20 people a good chunk of which were full grown men. I'm no longer in Utah, but I'm still seeing miracles, I'm still loved by my Savior, and I'm still growing and becoming more and more like my Savior. 

       Sorry this took so long to write, I really did have a tough time writing it. I still plan on sending out emails as a service missionary though I imagine they won't be nearly as frequent, but I figure something is better than nothing.  

           Utah gave me one heck of a ride, Elder Blacker