Hey, from Utah

Hello from my new home – in Utah.

I never in a million years thought I would be saying that.

If you had asked me a year ago if I would ever move away from the east coast, let along to Utah (the state with so many Mormons), I would have laughed in your face and given you a million reasons as to why I would never do it. Why I wouldn’t leave the coast, why I wouldn’t live west of the Mississippi, and especially why I wouldn’t live in Utah.

I’m writing this from Provo.

The place with so many Mormons you’ll spend all your time tripping over them right and left. The place where every third person is wearing a soccer jersey or some sort of BYU logo emblazoned on their person (I don’t mind the jerseys so much), where signs for the ice cream shops bemoan break-ups and offer solace in frozen dairy, and where there are so many LDS meeting houses that you could throw a football with a feeble-handed pass and it would make it from one of the buildings to another, no problem.

I feel like I’m living in some sort of twilight zone. I don’t quite believe that I now live in Utah. That I traded my Shenandoah Valley for the Salt Lake Valley, my rolling green hills for brown mountains, my coastline for the canyons, my thick woods for a place filled with sidewalks, traffic barrels, and parallel parking (is all of Utah under construction?).

I can easily say right now that moving out here is absolutely the most terrifying thing I have done in my entire life.

It’s complicated. It’s humbling. It’s heartbreaking. It’s liberating. Mostly, right now, it’s terrifying.

The whole reasoning for moving out here and the emotions that come with it are hard to express, but they’re important nonetheless.

I learned in my final year at Southern Virginia that I was getting comfortable. Living in Virginia was easy. I had a few good friends, some incredible professors and mentors, a calling I loved, a boss who was as kind as the day was long, and I was in a place that felt comfortable.

And I realized comfortable was not where I needed to be. It was time to leave the comfort zone, because I had plateaued. I learned that when I’m not actively growing and stretching (and being chastened, let’s be real), I tend to slowly slip downwards. For me, a lack of progression is automatic regression.

In the year I spent at home sorting a couple things out and pouring my heart into the ward and temple there, I was praying day and night to know where I needed to go, what programs I should apply for, etc.

I’d get excited about a program or city or country and get caught up in day dreams. I think I prayed about every state in the Union and a couple different countries (hey, Samoa, catch you next time I guess?).

Except Utah.

I didn’t want to go to Utah.

But in the absent minded moments when I’d be thinking of what I needed to be doing, it was Utah that came to mind. In making lists and goals, it had unintentionally become “I’ll do that when I get to Utah” or “that isn’t a far drive from Utah,” all without me really noticing it at first.

When the Lord and I finally reached an understanding (wherein He did the telling and I still don’t have the understanding, really), I tried incredibly hard to be excited and energetic about the move. Especially when talking to friends and people from Church. People would say, “are you so excited to move to Utah?” or “you’re going to love living in the Salt Lake Valley” or “it will be so close to your mission!” and I would smile and nod and rattle off something all while trying to swallow back the feeling that the Lord was dragging me west kicking and screaming.

Spoiler alert, He did.

Yes, I am really excited to be closer to my friends from the mission and from the east who have moved out here (heeyyy, Cromwell family). Yes, I am so excited to be able just do something different. Yes, I am really looking forward to all the Mexican food (pretty sure that’s secretly the number one factor in being excited right now, sorry friends). And more importantly, I am excited to see what the Lord has in store for me right now.

But guys, I am SO not comfortable.

I guess that’s the point.

And the discomfort comes from the not knowing why I’m here or what I’m supposed to be doing.

(People have asked me time and again if I’m going to Utah to get married, and the next person who does might just get a swift right hook and an earful. People who know me know I wouldn’t move across the country for a date – I’m perfectly content with a cup of tea, a book, and my single state, thankyouverymuch.)

In every previous phase of my life, I’ve known the purpose. I’ve known the reason why, the expiration date, the ins and outs of it. Sure there were short stretches where I didn’t know what I needed to be doing, but they lasted a few days or weeks at the very most.

But I don’t know why I’m here in Utah. I don’t know why God called me to a place I’ve never wanted to go, a place that literally made me absolutely miserable the first time I visited (the MTC was rough, yo. There’s a reason I refer to it as spirit prison – you’re trapped, but you learn a hell of a lot).

I just know that this is where I’m meant to be. Simplify all of it down, and I’m really just trying to follow Jesus.

I thought I understood how hard it is to say “I’ll go where you want me to go” while I was on my mission and being transferred or getting a new companion every six to twelve weeks.

The mission has got absolutely nothing on this.

This is the biggest leap of faith He’s asked me to take so far.

I came out here with no place to live, no job, just my life packed into my car and some money in the bank (and my mom for a week and a half, God bless her, I couldn’t have done it without her).

As of Monday, I have a place to live, but still no job, and my life is still packed in my car and money doesn’t last long.

I’m exhausted, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. I’m feeling a bit like the Israelites wandering around in the desert, wondering when they’d see the promised land. I feel like I’m painting on a smile when people ask me if I’m “so excited to be living in Utah,” when really all I want to do is go hide with a Coke and somebody’s dog to cuddle.

I’m terrified. It has literally been a leap of faith as wide and deep as it is from the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Rockies. It feels like I might as well be on the other side of the world.

But I’ve also never been so sure of anything in my life. It’s been a lesson in saying “thy will be done” over and over until you really mean it, until you really start to feel it. When my mind starts to race and I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack of the brain, it’s that little bit of steadiness that says, “you’re meant to be here.”

And I’m so thankful for pure and simple kindness, from friends and strangers alike. It’s been the saving grace (as has a trip to the temple) the past couple days, especially when I feel like I’m falling apart at the seams. It’s been so great to be reunited with friends and people who have already been so crucial to my journey thus far (even if they do lecture me about dating).

Utah. It’s exciting. It’s terrifying. It’s new. It’s a little overwhelming. It’s different. But it’s home now.

So here’s me raising my glass of Coke and trying to smile through the terror and sorting out what in the world I am doing here, and saying “hey, from Utah.”

APG Travels: In Our Lovely Deseret

I spent a whirlwind 6 days in the Salt Lake Valley last week, visiting friends, celebrating a wedding, and eating far too much food that was too good to pass up. It was exhilarating, exhausting, and everything I needed to kick off the new year. It was such a blessing to be reunited with several of my mission companions and others that I served with, as well as making new friends and meeting up with old ones.

I have to admit, I was a little skeptical about Utah – the last time I was traveled to the Salt Lake valley, I spent 11 days in “Spirit Prison” (the missionary training center) struggling with altitude sickness, stress, and navigating food allergies in a dining hall with limited options. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the MTC, but it wasn’t easy. So Utah left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth (also a brown taste, considering I’m an eastern girl and love my green mountains and trees, and Utah is quite brown).

I was pleasantly surprised! Apparently, Utah and I are a better match in the middle of winter than in late summer. It doesn’t hurt that it’s an entirely different kind of cold than New England, meaning the temperatures hovering around freezing most of the week meant it felt pretty mild – perfect for adventuring around the Salt Lake Valley!

On Friday and Saturday, the day was spent celebrating Cassidy’s pending nuptials with a bachelorette party at a local crepe joint in Provo, her sealing, and then the reception. I expected to be a little emotional, watching a mission companion I love dearly (I rarely meet someone who I click with as quickly as I did her) get married for time and eternity. I did pretty good, no tears, until I saw her brother step forward for a long, tearful hug. Anyone left in the room who witnessed the love radiating through the room with dry eyes had dry eyes no longer by that point.

Please ignore my crazy bangs and just appreciate the four of us mission-mates reunited for Cassidy’s bachelorette party.

Blurry, but priceless.

This is probably one of my favorite candids of Cass & her new husband, Spencer, came out of the temple.

Isn’t she stunning?

She & Spencer were married in the new Provo City Center temple, which is absolutely beautiful, inside and out. I love that after the old tabernacle burnt down, it was renovated and made into a second temple for the city.

It was also such a blessing to meet up with friends – it was just the pick-me-up I needed and such a perfect start to 2017. I got the chance to explore Provo and Salt Lake, although I slacked on taking digital pictures (got loads of polaroids! I will post them once they are scanned and uploaded).

Here are some of the highlights:

A session at the old Provo temple with Madeleine, one of my mission companions, which was double the experience because I never had the chance to attend the temple while at the MTC.

Exploring Center Street in Provo and Temple Square in Salt Lake with Ofa – isn’t she gorgeous? (And again, with my bangs)

Bookstores and bakeries galore!

I had heard about the Sweet Tooth Fairy bakery and how incredible their cupcakes are on social media, and was pleasantly surprised to find that they live up to their reputation! My red velvet cupcake I had on my cupcake date with Madeleine and Tessa was divine. And I probably spent a little too much money as I combed through Pioneer Book and Seagull Book in Provo. The perils of being a nerd.

These crepes made my soul so happy, I went twice. :)

It wasn’t a crazy fancy trip, nothing huge, but it was definitely a lot of fun. I feel like the majority of what makes travel exciting is people – reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. So ten points to Utah for being home to the majority of my friends!

xoxo,

Meg

Dropped Off!

At the Provo Temple in her new cute dress!

Meg, Josie, Jasmine at the fountain outside the Provo Temple.

Jasmine here and I can’t seem to get the pictures to work the way I want them to. Hopefully by the end of 18 months I’ll be a bit better at it! Anyhoo, at 1:30 pm today my mom, little sister, and I dropped Meg off at the MTC. We went early so we could take pictures at the Provo Temple and look around BYU campus a little bit. It didn’t really hit any of us that she was leaving until we had the curbside drop-off! We were shocked at how quick it was!! We thought the big line we were in was to go someplace to park, not to find a place to drop Meg off into the care of the long line of missionaries we saw. BUT, it was wonderful and we could tell Meg is in some VERY good hands.

She is ready to work and get to serving the Lord. Remember to write this lovely sister missionary while she is in the MTC and out in the field! In one of her previous posts she has a postcard with her addresses listed to you can write her whenever you’d like!

Our beautiful missionary getting ready to REALLY begin her adventure.

Two friends saying goodbye. I will miss her so much but I can’t wait to hear all about the wonderful miracles she and the Lord will bring about while in California!

My mom and Meg hugging at the curb. Mama Anderson took care of her as best as she could since Meg’s mom was unable to be here.

Meg knew her mom would love this shot! As she started to walk away from us she turned and did this sign! :-)

You can’t see her very well, but she is a yellow speck in the far background as she began her journey.

Well, by the end of this post I figured out how to put the pictures where I wanted them :-) I hope you enjoy the pictures! I have a few more if you would like me to post them, but they are mostly just zoomed out versions of what is already here. I love you all and I know Meg loves you more! PLEASE remember to send her all sorts of mail. I know she would absolutely love it.

-Jasmine

Sister Friends

Today, several dear friends and classmates enter the MTC. They are part of the first wave of sister missionaries from Southern Virginia to head out into the mission field. My heart goes with them, as anticipate joining them in the field in a few months’ time. They are headed to Armenia, California, and Bulgaria, among other places throughout the world. So needless to say my mind has been on them the last few days, and how thankful I am to have them.

Katie and I

They’ve each taught me so much about life, the Gospel, and especially about missionary work. But more than that, I’m thankful to know that we are all working alongside one another to further build and strengthen God’s kingdom. There are many of us, from all over the globe, being sent to tens of nations and hundreds of missions. Because of the age change, but more importantly because of who we are striving to become, and what we are trying to do, we have become comrades and friends. There is an instant bond, whether you know a sister missionary (or one who is preparing) personally.

There is a Facebook group designated specifically for sisters preparing to serve, with thousands of sisters preparing to serve. Literally thousands. The last time I checked, there were 7,790 members in the group. We are awaiting calls, and have been called. There are sisters serving in their home towns as service missionaries, and others called to serve outside their home lands, as well as within. We are excited, we are nervous, and we are striving together.

This is an army of sisters that the Lord has called. On the facebook group, there is the occasional post asking the members to fast and pray for a particular person dear to them. Encouragement is given and love is shown in so many different ways. There is a joyous meeting when you find someone whom you will be serving alongside (I ‘met’ a few sisters serving in San Fernando just the other day, and they are just the sweetest).

Dain of OYSMF and I

And this group of “sister friends” isn’t just inclusive of those who are preparing – it most definitely encircles those sisters who have served and have reached out to younger sisters to help them prepare, to share advice, and to be a source of constant encouragement. I love being able to text one of my friends from my ward with random questions like, “how do I approach Preach My Gospel to study it for the first time?” She is patient, loving, and kind. She texts me scriptures pertaining to missionary work, or scriptures that helped her while she was serving in Birmingham as a Spanish speaking sister. And it means so much that I can text one of my role model sisters from school to ask random questions about serving as a stateside English-speaking missionary, knowing she’ll answer no matter how dumb the questions are, or how long her week has been as an EFY coordinator. They both, as well as other friends, are such awesome examples, and definitely the kinds of people I aspire to be like.

There is this incredible bond between sister missionaries, I’ve noticed, before, after, and while they serve the Lord. My friend Dain uses the term “sister friends” pretty often, and I think it’s an apt description of what sister missionaries become. Friends, but also sisters in the sense that the bond is so strong because you’re doing some of the hardest things you can possibly imagine while you’re so far from home. Sisters, also, because obviously, for eighteen months we refer to one another as sister. It is a wonderful reminder of the relationship that we have with one another, but also the relationship we all have as children of God (yes, even the elders who are silly and dorky are our brothers, get over it).

Personally, this relationship is a huge comfort and motivator for me. To know that while I am  serving in San Fernando, that Dain is in Carlsbad, that Katie is in Sofia, that Jackie is in Peru, that Lauren is in Paris, that Shoushig is in Armenia, and that we have still more sisters serving around the world. We aren’t working separately, we are working together, albeit speaking different languages and on different continents, but that we are sharing the same message, that we are laboring in the same vineyard, and that we will always be sisters.

I am so, so thankful for each of these sisters, and am excited to see who they become (and who I become) as a missionary. Their example is so powerful and helps me to become a better person, as well as a better missionary. And it’s a lot less daunting to think of my sister friends working beside me – none of us are ever alone.

In Proverbs 18:24, it says, “and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.” Totally true of sister friends. :)