One Last Time...July 15, 2019

You'd think after two years of saying goodbye things would get easier. It still hurts just as bad. Something about lowering your pen and placing a period on the page is fundamentally painful.

One thing I have learned from all these farewells is that while the conclusion is sad and hurts an awful lot, it becomes an opportunity to write the next line and continue the story. Often you find old characters who come back into your narrative, becoming even more dear to you then before. Those are truly joyful times that make our stories rich and worthwhile. 

That being said, I'd like to tell you the story of my mission. 

In April 2017, a young man arrived at his grandparents home in the gorgeous forests of Vancouver Island. He awaited a wonderful few weeks, working for his grandfather-but mostly relaxing and adventuring. It was to be a great vacation. 

Prior to leaving, he was invited by his bishop to read the Book of Mormon, looking for references to repentance. Several nights into this vacation, as he grew bored of binging Downton Abbey, he decided to pick up the Book of Mormon instead. 

By the end of that night, that boy knew with a powerful certainty that this book was true. Several weeks later he submitted his papers to serve a mission, by May he received his call to serve in the Iowa Des Moines Mission, and on July 12th he entered the missionary training center. 

Those three weeks he learned what it was like to always have the spirit to be with him. He made great friends. He was a missionary. 

Then in August, he arrived in Iowa and was assigned to serve in Quincy IL. He had the time of his life, serving with incredible missionaries like his trainer Elder McCain, and had some beautiful experiences. He stayed there for 6 months, and really learned that the Holy Ghost can change people into Christlike creatures and that miracles happen. 

He was then assigned to Carroll IA, a small town that was more than 90 percent catholic, about an hours drive from the nearest missionaries. It was so hard, so cold, and people he grew to love there hurt him because they didn't value his testimony. 

But as spring dawned on that frozen town, he was transferred to an even smaller town called Lenox. He was to serve with one of his greatest friends from his time in Quincy, Elder Fuller. He resolved to make the best of his situation and love the people despite how strange they were. It was there that he had the most profound experiences of his life. It was there that he really met his Savior. It was there that he changed from a missionary into a servant of God. 

And it was only up from there. He found himself in Iowa City for the fall months, and what a wonderful time that was! The people he served with and the people he taught there are his dearest friends in the world. Words can't adequately describe those days, just that they were days he keeps close to his heart. 

Just before Christmas of 2018 he was sent to Davenport. It broke his heart to leave behind those wonderful times he'd had. But as he turned himself back to the work with his whole heart, out of love for his Savior and his fellow men, he saw miracles. More than that, he found much of the same joy he had before, and the relationships he made there were equally treasured. 

As his last months drew near, he was assigned to finish his mission in Ankeny. Free from the cares of leadership, he turned all of his energy and focus to teaching others the power of Christ's infinite Atonement. He was never more abundantly blessed than those days. Indeed he saw miracles and had many revelations daily. He faith grew so quickly as he trusted on the arm of the Lord. 

And there he was, with four days left of this incredible experience, writing his final letter home. As he wrote, he reflected on the end of this beautiful era, and tears welled in his eyes. He kept writing, because he was so scared of that last period he would place. But as frightened and sad as he was, he knew that this period wasn't really the end of the story. It was the bridge to an even better one. 

Godspeed. 

Elder Housholder