For the RM's

May 8, 2008..... 5 years ago today.....

I sat in a state of numbness, not sure of what to think about.  I watched the cloud formations as they flew past below.  I ignored the movie playing, and easily remained focused on my journal and Book of Mormon which I would give away in the airport.  In less than 2 hours, I would see my family again, and by the next day I would no longer be "Sister Dust."  The tag which bore the name of my Lord and Savior next to mine would no longer live over my heart.  The purpose and privilege of knocking on doors, approaching strangers, preaching truth, love, restoration, faith, repentance, forgiveness, baptism, and eternal life every minute of every day to my brothers and sisters on the street and in their homes, would be mine no longer.  I wouldn't have my trusted companion at my side to support and back me up in every single situation.  I would say good bye to the best life I had ever known.

I knew my family would be excited to see me.  Would I be excited to see them?  Could I help them get to know the new me, who now understood the purpose of this life, the role of obedience and sacrifice, who had worked and suffered and sweated through every single day of the greatest work in the world for the last year and a half?  Who had seen and witnessed deep hardship and trial among the children of God, and witnessed the change of heart and mind that comes to the individual who comes unto Christ?  Who had come to know my Savior personally, and wanted nothing else but to please Him, to waste not a minute of time on this earth, to spend my time seeking to build the kingdom of God on the earth and in Heaven, and to do everything right in order to prove my love for Him?

Who would I be now?  What did this mean for me?  What did I have to look forward to?

I'd remained sober my entire mission, so my "little problem of the past" was far from my mind at this time.  I saw my family, smiled through a day of Chuck-A-Rama, catching up, telling a few mission stories, and finally I made it to my room and had some time alone, leaving my family upstairs to watch their jazz game on tv.  I sat on my bed and wondered what to think about.  Still numb.  A few hours later my brother in law, a bishop at the time, came down to say hi.

He was the first person to talk to me on my level that day.  We talked of spiritual matters.  He said something I never forgot, "You'll spend the rest of your life trying hard to be as good as you were as a missionary."  Great.  So basically I have years of trying, failing, guilt, and disappointment to look forward to until I die!  Sadly, I believed him.

The next 4 years were spent doing just that.  The disappointment and guilt grew thicker and thicker as I failed to be that perfect missionary.  Who filled every minute of every day with something productive and spiritual.  Who knew answers to questions.  Who had missionary lessons memorized.  Who knowingly felt and followed the spirit, and easily stepped out of comfort zones.  The shame of living a "lesser law" was so intense - I could hardly watch a movie without feeling extremely guilty.  I couldn't bare to do anything for myself.  I slipped here and there, and reported every single slip to whatever bishop I had at the time.

My journals were filled with the same ol same ol.

"I miss my mission.... back when I was a missionary.... I need to be more like "Sister Dust" because then I would be happy....."

Heavenly Father used my passion and longing for the work, and kept me busy.  I taught lots of Sunday School classes in those 4 years, including my favorite: Mission Prep!  It was during this time as a mission prep teacher in 2011 that I started to feel like a hypocrite.  It was during this time I let my "little habit of the past" return with greater re-occurrence, and for the first time I did NOT tell my bishop.  It was during this time depression and anxiety finally blew up in my face and I felt utterly abandoned by my Father and Savior.  Grace and forgiveness was for everyone else.  I had to be perfect.  I could no longer be perfect and trying was making me miserable.  Depression took me so low, I decided I was being punished.  I was angry and lost desire to try anymore.

My mission had taught me that despite what I feel, I must hang on to what I know.  I knew that this church and it's doctrine was true, and I promised to never let that go no matter what.  So I went through the motions, trusting that my feelings would catch up.  But there were many days I just couldn't do it.

Finally at an awful breaking point, the Lord unexpectedly guided me to this addiction recovery program.

Finally, the Lord reached out to me, and treated me like the investigator.

Finally, for the first time, I was worth the time, attention, love, and teaching that I had provided for so many others.

Finally, I realized that I mattered, no matter what I did or didn't do.

Finally I feel like I am progressing forward even from the mission days, instead of forever backwards!

Best of all, I am getting to know myself, my Savior, and my purpose in a way that no longer makes me look back and wish for better days I once had as a missionary.  I finally feel like I have something great in the present, and something to look forward to.  I don't miss "Sister Dust."  She had no idea the joy that was possible through the Atonement like I do now.  She had no idea how she was caught up and stuck in fear, pride, shame, and isolation, and how wonderful and delicious life is with the power of vulnerability, honesty, and trust.  I love who I am becoming, I love feeling like I can be myself, I love that I don't rely on what others think as much anymore, I love the things I'm still learning, I love having a network of people who love and support me for me, and the progress I still get to make now!!  Sometimes I feel like the freedom I have now doesn't even compare to how I felt as "Sister Dust."

I'm still nowhere as "good" as Sister Dust.  I still struggle and at times feel overwhelmed by my "switch hit" addictions.  I still fight occasional bouts of anxiety and depression.  Yes, long road ahead.  But, now I love myself.  Now I know the Lord loves me, right now, as I am.  I know things will get better bit by bit, step by step, that healing is a process.  I have hope for the future!  And guess what???  Now, finally, reaching out to help and serve others is simply a joy, instead of a duty ending in resentment.  (insert sigh of happiness)

I thought I was happy before.  Wow....  And to think I'm only on step 4!

I LOVED my mission.  I will always love it.  I would not be who I am today without it.  But now I can look back with joy and gratitude, instead of longing and sorrow.