For the revision of my personal essay I wanted to make it more clear about my topic. I was very broad and open in my first draft about returning home from a mission. This revision has narrowed down the way in which we as missionaries become a brotherhood. How experiences and memories bond us. I hope to give more specific direction and purpose to what I am trying to write.
I had been responsible so many times to help take departing missionaries to the airport at the end of their two year service. It broke my heart to see their heads sink low in reflection. Their weary tired bodies dragging one more step. Suitcases used and abused with their few precious belongings. You could tell without much dispute those that had become committed and converted to the message of Jesus Christ they taught and those who had not. Those that had couldn’t seem to let go. The last glance back at the Mission President his wife and my companion and I said it all. The eyes longed for one more day to testify and witness of Christ. But that option was not available.
Every time I left the airport I felt like I had said goodbye to my brothers and sisters. Its not normal for a 19, 20 or 21 year old in this world to experience the bond you develop with others while on your mission. Yet saying goodbye to people you have known for only a few months in some cases is as hard as anything else one can experience. Especially when all you have been through is for the greatest cause ever.
My time had arrived much faster than anticipated. The night prior to our departure from the mission field, those of us returning home had gathered at the mission home for dinner and testimony meeting. While the aroma of ham and funeral potatoes were slowly drifting from our noses and the physical evidence rested heavier within our stomachs the mood of the room shifted as President spoke. The house truly was a conduit of the spirit. The carpet was clean, the table spotless, lights dimmed to a calm level.
I panned across the room to the faces of missionaries that I had bonded with over the past 2 years. Suits that were tattered and torn, paints that had faded in their once rich color to an exhausted dusted result. Some missionaries slouch in the couch as we visit. While they may appear dead and worthless, you can see the joy their body expresses in the soft comfort of the sofa. It has been rare in 2 years that they get to sit upon a couch and actually enjoy and capitalize on the comfort it was made for.
Others sit erect and prepared ready for another call to serve. Their testimony still burning within them. Smile from ear to ear, you know the type. Someone almost needs to tell them that there are problems in the world and not everything is worth being happy about. You can’t blame them though for smiling, because that smile from ear to ear had touched many people on a daily basis for two years.
Everyone is holding their scriptures on their laps. Interesting to see the pages of some barely holding on. Others are marked as if the missionary thought it was a coloring book. Some are still as nice as when the missionary left the missionary training center (MTC). Regardless of testimony it safely assumed that each book and the words within it impacted someones life for good.
President turns the remainder of our meeting over to us to share our testimonies. I sit and reflect upon the memories and moments that I have had with each missionary as they stand to testify of Christ. Instantly I am reminded of specific streets and faces of people, as we stood shoulder to shoulder and testified of the Savior and is work. Memories of zone conferences come to mind when missionaries gave a comment that impacted and changed the course of our meeting.
As each missionary stood to share their testimony, I could only compare each one to that of Ammon in the Book Of Mormon. As each one testified not of themselves, but rather the glory of God and the strength he had given them to do his work. Ammon following the missions of himself and his brethren boasts of God and the work he has allowed him to do. Ammon is able to bring his brethren together as they realize the work they have completed and the bond they have forged.
Each missionary that gloried in God that night was a witness to me of the love the Gospel of Jesus Christ carries. It brings us together under the greatest cause ever to be imagined. That room was thick with the spirit that each breath I took I felt they all knew. I was heavy with gratitude and appreciation for all God had given me the past two years to build these types of friendships.
I knew that the next day when it would finally be our turn to walk through the airport security and look back one more time, I new every eye would long for a chance to go back one more time and teach the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Our departing group that night during testimony meeting had witnessed to me that we had become committed and converted.
From the missionary collapsed and suffocated by the comfort of the sofa, to the alert and always attentive missionary with years still left in him they were all converted. The memories of walking different streets in the rain, cold and scorching heat, the meetings of coming together and unity are memories never to be washed from the mind. They are imprinted permanently upon the soul of each missionary and there. Some say a bond is made when people are tied to an emotional experience. For us that emotional experience last two years and the bond had been made. We knew that as we borded that plane the next day to return home. We would join with Ammon and his brethren in boasting of our God and his name.
