In Which My Life is a Little Bit of a Desert, But That's Okay

Hello, y'all! Look at this - my first blog post from home. I really do like writing (and hopefully y'all like reading my writing,) so I'm going to try to post something awesome once a week.

Is it just me that still thinks that it's the strangest thing in the world that I'm home? People keep saying things like, "Wow, you're back already? It feels like you just left." I'm not sure how I feel about that. It feels fast, but I mean, I was gone for a whole year and a half.

My dad always told me growing up that the day you come back from your mission is the weirdest day of your life, and I always thought I understood that. Silly Allison...

My last few days in Houston were wonderful - we spent some quality time with the Mortensens and had the most amazing testimony meeting I've ever been a part of, and then all of the sudden it was Wednesday morning and Sister Mortensen was driving us to the airport. I don't know if I can adequately describe how odd it was to go from being a missionary in Houston, and even being a missionary on a plane, to all of the sudden being home again. I had the most wonderful welcoming party and have gotten to see so many of my favorite people since I've been home, and it was so crazy how it all of the sudden switched like that.

Being released was one of the hardest things I've done - he thanked me for my service and asked me to take off my tag, and in that moment, I felt so alone. Here I was, surrounded by people who loved me and cared about me, but all of them wanted me home, and I wanted nothing more than to go back. I really believe that the strengthening power of the Atonement helps us in all things - even something as small as taking a name tag off.

A few weeks ago Sister Hudgens and I had a chat with President Mortensen and he told us a story of a woman who crossed the plains with the pioneers. She had suffered tremendously to make the trek, and when she took her first look at the Salt Lake Valley...

She was so disgusted that she pushed her handcart off of the cliff.

Now, I looked for some sourcing on this story and couldn't find any, but it makes sense. Have you ever thought about how everything would have looked to someone who had just suffered every deprivation?

I don't know about you, but this is not what I would have imagined Zion to look like. It kind of looks dead. And dry. And not all that welcoming.

The point is not how it looked, though - it was the potential that it had. I probably would not have been one to look at this and think, "Hm. I think this will become a habitable metropolis full of people who actually want to be here." Brigham Young, on the other hand, was able to see its potential. This is what Wilford Woodruff recorded in his journal about President Young's first view of the valley -

"When we came out of the cañon into full view of the valley, I turned the side of my carriage around, open to the west, and President Young arose from his bed and took a survey of the country. While gazing on the scene before us, he was enwrapped in vision for several minutes. He had seen the valley before in vision, and upon this occasion he saw the future glory of Zion and of Israel, as they would be, planted in the valleys of these mountains. When the vision had passed, he said: 'It is enough. This is the right place. Drive on.' "

When he looked down on the barren wasteland that was Salt Lake, he saw something more like this -

Each of us will face times in our lives when we're asked to walk into our own desert valleys. We may have struggled long and hard to get there, only to wonder why in the world the Lord would give us something so undesirable as a reward. We may be lead by priesthood leaders who have a greater vision than we do.

In reality, though, how amazing is it that He trusts us to make something out of nothing? He gives us the tools we need through trial and experience, and then lets us go to work.

My life? It's a total barren valley. As my dear brother Ted so lovingly pointed out yesterday when my mom asked if I had plans today, I'm a little bit of a "jobless freeloader." It's frustrating, and there are a lot of times where I want nothing more than to go back to Houston where I knew what to do and how to do it, but at the same time, I know that this is where I'm needed. I have my work cut out for me, but how incredible will life be if I am willing to use the tools I've been given and work for it.

Go out there, people. Do amazing things.

Love,
Me

P.S. I got my Wilford Woodruff quote from this talk, and it's basically what I just said, but more in depth and more awesome because President Faust gave it.

Read it.

http://speeches.byu.edu/?act=viewitem&id=255

Elder Abadillo had to drive a 15 passenger van full of Sisters without his companion. This is his reaction.

Departing missionaries play Uno. Don't tell Elder McKell what Elder Larsen's cards are, okay?

Oh, my favorite Mortensens

On the way to the airport

There were 26 of us going home, so we basically owned this escalator...and the airport. 

Hey! That's our flight!

Sister Lusk, my fabulous airplane companion. Not really, but we felt better that way. 

FIRST GLANCE AT MOUNTAINS.

The welcoming crew. 

(If I may, I'd just like to point out that I may be a jobless freeloader, but Ted's the ho.)