"We must take every opportunity to learn and to grow, to dream dreams and see visions, and work toward their realization. If we must rest on our swords for a bit, we must get up and continue... "
Since December 17, 1970 I have been dreaming. I remember the plane descending from the skies and slowly dropping to the earth to land in Houston. I had been emotional leaving Mexico behind me. For the previous few hours, I was remembering the wonderful saints I just left. I "experienced" so many wonderful memories on the trip home. I thought of so many who had been instruments in helping me learn and grow, struggle and cry, and feel joy and love.
As the plane came to rest in Houston, I was home. I had to get off the plane and get on another one on the way to Salt Lake City. But I was back in the United States. I tried to shove the memories of Mexico, the people, the experiences out of my mind since I was on US soil once again. I remember getting off the plane and walking into the terminal. I distinctly remember two things more than any other. One: The girls with blond hair. In Mexico there weren't any girls with blond hair. That amazed me. Two: The water. In Mexico, it was taboo, for it gave missionaries all kinds of diseases, like it gave me hepatitis. I found a drinking fountain and must have consumed most of the water in the tank, perhaps even in Houston. I might have drank about sixty gallons of it, (paid for it the next leg of the trip, living in the little cubical they call a bathroom, or rest room, or whatever.)
As I walked off the plane in Salt Lake City, no one was there to pick me up. I beat the letter telling my parents I was coming home and when to be at the airport. I didn't have any US money, thus I was stuck there. I remember very distinctly walking around the airport remembering the previous two years. It was then and there that I committed to return to the mission field with my future wife. I remember being out of Mexico for only a few hours, but missing my mission and all it entails so much that I planned to return to the mission field.
So, this blog really started 41 years ago, almost to the month. Of course this dream wasn't as vibrant as it has been lately through all those years. But it is alive and well. I remember sitting in Perry a few years ago thinking of serving and became so emotional that the tears wouldn't stop. We sang "Called to Serve" and I ached for that experience again and to share it with Bonnie.
So Elder Holland, after 41 years of working toward realizing that dream that started long ago, I hope we can say that we are only 200 days away from it. Though I have been resting, as Elder Holland mentioned, it is about time to get up and fight again. Dream dreams and see visions. My dream is to get on a plane once again, leaving Salt Lake, going where Father wants us to go and serving as missionaries. It is almost time...
No comments:
Post a Comment