Why Do We Do This?

My brother-in-law describes vacations with my family as the McConkie School of Survival. He came up with this term shortly after marrying my sister when my family decided to take a trip to the Grand Canyon. During the few days we were down at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon my brother-in-law was subjected to a nine mile hike along the rim on a Sunday. The next day was a 17 mile hike to Ribbon Falls in the canyon and then back to the rim. In total 26 miles of hiking in two days in a place where temperatures in the shade can reach into the hundreds. 

Ribbon Falls

As my brother-in-law can attest to this first hike is only one of many crazy hikes that my family has done. While I was in middle school my family went camping in the Teton National Park and planned on doing an eight mile hike. After nearly seventeen miles we found ourselves finishing our hike. I've been to the bottom of the Grand Canyon three times with my family. One time was at a place called Toroweap which is basically a near vertical mile and a half trail from the bottom of the canyon to the top. Hiking Toroweap is so dangerous that the National Parks Service discourages people from hiking this trail. The other two times were rim-to-rim-to-rim hikes each of which my family accomplished in two separate four day periods.

So this President's Day's weekend when my mom and dad asked me to accompany them to Bryce Canyon National Park I figured that there would be sometime type of hike involved. Little did I know that my dad hadn't decided where we would go hiking in the canyon. At the Visitor's Center to the park my dad asked a Parks' Employee about hiking. The employee's answer wasn't to tell us what type of hikes to enjoy, but that we should buy $25 crampons to place on the bottom of our hiking boots. My dad wasn't very happy with this response and wasn't willing to shell out $75 on three sets of crampons that we would use only once. So instead he decided to go on his hike without the crampons.

After spending the night in a cabin in Tropic, Utah the three of us (my dad, my mom, and I) arrived at the rim of the canyon to begin our hike into an area known as Fairyland. As we started down the trail into the Bryce Canyon Amphitheater we quickly found that crampons wouldn't have been very good for hiking. Temperatures in the high 40's and low 50's had melted the ice and snow in the canyon and we found ourselves trudging through mostly slush. Other than getting my shoes extremely wet I didn't mind this slush too much as it made for a fun way to descend from the rim.

My Dad in the Grand Canyon.

When the trail finally leveled out we found ourselves winding through the distinctive hoodoos that make Bryce Canyon so famous. As we walked through the hoodoos we found ourselves slogging through clay that stuck to the bottom of our boots in two inch thick increments. This provided wonderful resistance training and made us cheer up a little bit whenever we encountered snow because the snow allowed us to get all the clay off of our feet. Eventually after several hours we found ourselves ascending back up to the rim. Once on the rim we thought that our hike would be easy as we would be on a well traveled trail that would make our journey easier.

We quickly found that our wishes of an easy trip along the rim back to our car wouldn't come true. The trail that we found was a set of cross country ski tracks, a pair of snowshoes, and a few footprints that led through snow over a foot deep. Because it was a shorter distance to follow this trail than going back the way we had come my family set off along this path. I did my best to try and stay on top of the snow, but found myself often sinking up to my knees in snow as I would break the hardened crust of the snow. All of this made our hike difficult and it was only made worse when we realized that the trail we were following wandered aimlessly through the woods and wasn't even connected to the trail that ran along the rim. Eventually we found our way back to the real trail and arrived back at our car. 

The hike made the annals of the McConkie School of Survival with a distance of nine miles and a time of almost six hours. It left us feeling exhausted and for the rest of the day we didn't do anything except for watch TV.

Despite experiences like this hike in Bryce Canyon and so many others that have left me tired and battered I still love hiking. I often find myself looking at distant mountain tops and wondering what it would be like at the summit. Several hours later I often find myself at the top of these mountains looking down at where I came from, thinking to myself, "Boy am I tired, but isn't the view even better than I imagined!" That's the reason why my family and I subject ourselves to these hikes is so we can see all the amazing things that we would miss if we didn't go.

The McConkie School of Survival.

Transfers: I Hate/Love Them

One of the things that I really hated as a missionary were transfers. Every six weeks in the mission field I would spend an entire Saturday morning waiting for a call to see what was going to happen during the next six weeks of my mission. Would I get a call telling me that I was staying in an area that was struggling? Was my good companion going to be leaving? Was I going to have to get used to a new guy with all kinds of weird habits? Was I going to find out that I was leaving a good area and a good companion to head off to some far off area? Would I need to spend time packing up my suitcases that Saturday night and prepare to hop on a van to my next destination on Monday?

As these questions rushed through my head I would stress out. I just wanted to find out what was going to be happening with my life and whether I would like this change or not. Every time the cellphone rang or we received a text I would ask my companion whether it was the Zone Leaders letting us know what was going on with the upcoming transfer. Most of the time it was only other missionaries in the mission asking us if we knew where we were going yet.

A nervous transfer day in Eugene.

Finally the call would arrive from the Zone Leaders. At times the call came very early in the morning, but usually the call didn't come until sometime in the afternoon. The hours waiting for the call were way too long for me. When the call would finally come my stress didn't usually end, most of the time the stress was made worse as I listened to the news of my future. If I was leaving the area I usually stressed out about having to go learn how to work in a new area. If I was staying and getting a new companion then I started stressing about how I was going to get along with the new guy. The only time I ever felt really happy about a transfer call was when I found out that I was staying with my companion in my area, but that wasn't always so great either.

The next few days after the call were always stressful. Saying good bye to people that I had come to love, packing up my few possessions, and not getting much sleep as I stressed too much. Finally the transfer would come. Nervous and sweaty I would get in the van the mission used for transfers and head off to my next destination. Once in my new home I would spent the next two weeks getting used to all the new things. Finally at the end of the second week my fears would be assuaged and the stress would be mostly gone.

Now transfers did have some perks to them. Sometimes I wanted to get a new companion or head to a new area and a transfer would give me that. If I was getting transferred then I figured that I had completed the job that I had been called to do in the area that I was currently serving in. But the best thing that a transfer could bring was the chance to learn more. Every time I was transferred to a new area or received a new companion I learned something new from my new area or my new companion. From my companion Elder Bradley I learned the value of working hard, from Elder Michelsen I learned how to plan effectively. In Lakeview I learned how to work with people from small towns and in Junction City I learned to treat everyone that I worked with as a Child of God. Even though transfers were hard I learned to appreciate them as times to learn and to grow. 

Saying good bye to some of our friends.

Now at this time in my life I am going through another change, another transfer. As I prepare to go back to school there is the same nervousness that accompanied every transfer on my mission. How will I get along with my roommates? Will things be any better at college than they were at home? Will I make new friends? How will I be able to do all of this? I know that the answers are out there somewhere along with a couple of important lessons to learn about myself. 

Transfers and changes come into all of our lives. Some will be welcomed and others will be downright miserable. But no matter what the change might be we can always learn something. For we cannot learn something new without experiencing something new.

Without Hope

My sister, Hope’s name has always been one of the unique things about her. She loves the name because she can always find souvenirs with her name. Her name is also easily translated into different languages in Spanish she is known as Esperanza and Toivo in Finnish. Plus her name is really easy to put into all kind of sentences. “I ‘Hope’ it doesn’t rain today”, “’Hope’fully I get a lucky break”, and “You are our only ‘Hope’”. My sister has heard all of these puns and her reaction is to laugh politely and to then move on with her life. One of the phrases that Hope often hears comes from her husband, who often remarks, “Where would I be without ‘Hope’?” Where would the world be without my sister? I might not be able to answer what might the world be without Hope, but I can definitely think of the things that she has done to help the people around her.

To my parents Hope has always been the child that they haven't had to worry about. My parents whose first daughter had been a terror at night always worried if their second oldest, Hope, would have such trouble sleeping. Early on their fears were assuaged as they would often find that Hope would find her way to the crib and be sleeping long before my parents even thought of putting her down to sleep at night. If Hope hadn't been born then I feel like my parents would have been a little less likely to have more children. Plus my oldest sister would have missed having a younger sister that she could hangout with and treat as a friend.

Hope, my Mom, and Audrey.

When the two of my sisters were both younger the two of them hung out a lot. As the two of them got older, that wasn't always the case. But at a young age Hope and Audrey, my other sister, were always doing something with each other. The two sisters' escapades included choreographing dances together, filming skits, and making tons and tons of cookies. The two of them were inseparable and without Hope who knows what might have happened to Audrey.

Beyond the impact that Hope had on her sister there was also the impact that she had on me and my younger brother. As I stated before Hope might have softened my parents' hearts towards having more children, but beyond that there were other things that my sister did to help me and my brother. Mitchell, my brother, and I were always very close to my sister. When Hope was in high school Mitchell and I were making our way through the awkward years of middle school. During those years Hope was always a friend to the two of us helping us to not feel as weird about the future. She also acted as an inspiration by being a very good cross country and track runner and also a very talented flute player. Watching her made me and my brother want to be better at the things we were doing and gave us hope that things would get better down the road.

Me and Hope.

After Hope graduated from high school she met the most important person in her life. That person's name was Joe. Joe who was attending college ran into my sister at a party and the first thing Joe ever said to Hope was, "I heard your name was Esperanza." From what I've heard my sister wasn't too impressed to be called Esperanza by this boy she had just met. But with time Hope began to really like Joe a lot and the two of them spent tons of time together. Eventually they were married in the Salt Lake Temple.

 After a few years of marriage my sister gave birth to a baby boy. That baby boy is probably the happiest baby that I have ever seen and everybody thinks that he is absolutely adorable. Now at this point I can tell one thing for sure that wouldn't have happened if there was no Hope. That is that this baby boy wouldn't exist. Because Hope is definitely this boy's mother and no one else could be his mother no matter who they were or what skills they had. Without Hope there wouldn't be this kid and there would probably be lots of other things that wouldn't be. So what I can say is that without Hope in the world there wouldn't be as good of a world. Today I want to thank Hope for being my sister and for making the world a better place.

Hope, Joe, and their baby boy.

The Return

It's strange to think that it has been almost five weeks since I came home from my mission in Oregon. For two years my entire life had been dedicated to getting up at six thirty in the morning, studying my scriptures for two hours, and then spending the entire day talking to everyone that I could. Then at the end of that day it was back to my apartment to get some rest so that I could go out and repeat the day over and over. Now I'm not living on that same schedule. Most mornings I wake up at around eight o'clock (which is only a half hour later than waking up at 6:30 in Oregon), studying my scriptures has gone from two hours a day to about half an hour, and instead of teaching random people about the Gospel anymore I spend most of my time talking to my friends.

My family at the airport.

As a missionary I would often hear church members comment about how weird missionaries were when they got home. The members would talk about how these return missionaries didn't know how to interact with people of the opposite sex, couldn't tolerate mainstream music, or acted as if the whole world was weird. As a missionary comments like these seemed strange to me. Even though I was living with rules that seemed pretty "strict" for two years it didn't seem to me that a transition to home would be difficult. I was already socially awkward before I had left on my mission and I figured that when I got home that there was no way that I would be able to be more "weird" than when I left. Life after my mission was not going to be difficult or hard for me.

When I got off of the plane at the Salt Lake International Airport I was excited, I was about to go back to life as it had been before I left on my mission. When I came down the escalator and approached my family I came to see that things were not going to be the same as when I had left. The first couple of weeks after I got home I kept waking up at 6:30 am. This ruined my plan about sleeping in all the time when I got home. I was so tired of getting up early, but now I wasn't able to even sleep past the magical time of 6:30. That was very disappointing to me.

Plus on top of the sleeping in problem I found myself trying to listen to music that I had listened to before my mission. About two songs into an old playlist I found myself skipping through certain songs that I had listened to a lot. I asked myself the question, "Wow how did I listen to this stuff?" Soon I had a list of songs that I was no longer willing to listen to. As a missionary I had never thought that I would have said that about my music. I had been so excited to get home and listen to songs by Kesha and Pitbull. Now they weren't as exciting to me anymore.

Returning home for me has been hard. Finding things to do has been really hard as I've waited for the school year to start. Hugging girls has also been a little awkward for me, because I haven't been allowed to hug girls for the last two years. Certain things that I had found fairly easy to do have become hard for me and I never thought that they would be hard. The stories that I had heard from members were true, post-mission life is awkward.

Even though the transition has been tough I've come to see that the transition is necessary. I can't go out and do all of the things that I did as a missionary anymore. I can't go out knocking on doors, wear a white shirt and tie all the time, or go about not interacting with females anymore. It just can't happen anymore and to be honest I'm glad not to have to deal with those things. 

Of course there are certain things that I miss like all my scripture study. But I know that life has to go on and that the Lord has more things required of me in my life. Things that I can't do as a full-time missionary. Things like getting an education, getting married, having a family, and getting a job. Those are things that I can't do as a missionary. Plus many other things await me in my life and I will have to seek them out as I continue to live my life and strive to put the Gospel first.

Just like the transition to being a missionary was tough going back to normal life will always be hard, but it's alright. The Lord requires hard things from us and those hard things help to build us into what we need to be. Right now I'm starting to see what I can become, but the end is still along way off. But for now I'll be thankful with the hard things I had to do as a missionary and what my mission has already helped me to become.

Me and my Dad after two years.

My "Little" Brother

My best friend in the whole world is my "little" brother Mitchell. From the earliest age the two of us were inseparable. My parents had the two of us share a room from the time that we were very little. At first I am sure that I was a little irked by the new arrival that showed up in my bedroom and took my crib, but slowly I warmed up to the little guy. One of my first memories is of my brother being rushed to the hospital. At the time I wasn't sure what was happening, but  I knew it had to do with Mitchell and I hoped that he would be alright. Luckily he was.

Me and my brother when we were little.

As the two of us grew together we found ourselves playing together often. The two of us would climb the apricot tree together seeing who could climb the highest. I always found pride in the fact that I could climb higher than my brother. Then when our parents would call us into the house from the tree where we were playing my brother and I would race to see who could get there first. Once again I took pride in the fact that I was faster than my little brother.

When the two of us entered elementary school I can remember thinking how cool it was to have my brother in the same school as me. Once again I showed my physical prowess over my brother by being the best in all the sports and by being a head taller than him. But when the school day was over I forgot everything I thought I was better at than him and the two of us would walk home. We would imagine that we were on an adventure together trying to save the world from space invaders. While I was the main hero against our extraterrestrial foes my brother was always there playing an important role. Then when we got home the two of us would play some more.

As we got older the two of us stopped playing so much pretend together. But we still made time for each other. We would go on hikes, talk about music, and talk about the things that happened in our lives. As the time started to go past my brother started to grow taller. Eventually the brother I had once stood over a head taller than was several inches taller than me. Along with growing taller than me my brother also became a much faster runner me. 

When I left for my mission my brother was no longer my little brother. He stood taller than me. He was a better athlete than me and he was working thirty plus hours a week as he finished high school and prepared to go to college. As my brother grew up there was one thing that I didn't notice and that was the growth of my brother's testimony of the Gospel.

My brother always made sure to fulfill all of his duties within the Aaronic Priesthood. While I had hated collecting fast offerings my brother always made sure he did his route, and he always collected fast offerings with a smile on his face. When an extra Priesthood holder was needed to pass the Sacrament my brother always volunteered. Now as it has come time for my brother to leave on his mission he hasn't turned away from the opportunity. Mitchell knows that he needs to go on a mission and he knows why he is going. He knows that he is leaving to serve his Savior. My brother Mitchell is my "little" brother and I'm thankful that my Heavenly Father let me have him as a brother.

My "little" brother.

You Served Where?

Lakeview, Grants Pass, Junction City, Winston, and Newport. Those are all of the towns that I have served in as a missionary here in Oregon. It's funny for me to see the reactions on people's faces when I tell them the areas that I have served in. The comments that I hear a lot are, "Where is that?", "I've never heard of that town", "Wow you served there?" or "Well at least you're in a better place now."

There have been times on my mission where I have agreed with the negative comments that have been made about my areas. Every time that I would get transferred to a new area in Oregon I would hear stories about how terrible the place was. When I went to Lakeview all I heard about the area was how small it was and that it was two hours away from the nearest Walmart. I remember that I was terrified of this small town and scared that I was going to go crazy talking to the same people over and over again. It turns out that in the four and a half months I spent in Lakeview that I always found new people to talk to everyday. I also found the friendliest people on earth and made lots of good friends.

Lakeview

When I left Lakeview to go to Grants Pass, I was nervous and depressed. I had heard stories about how crime rates were high in the town. I heard that I was likely to meet a lot of people, who could use some change in their lives, but wouldn't be willing to make those changes at all. It seemed like I was going to be in for a lot of challenges. I honestly don't think that I have ever been happier in my life than the during the time I spent in Grants Pass. It seemed that everyone I talked to was willing to learn about the Gospel, learning to try something out, and willing to change for the better. I saw lots of people grow closer to the Savior and I felt so good about myself and the work that I was doing for Jesus. 

Grants Pass

After a wonderful seven and a half months in Grants Pass I moved onto Junction City. I found out once again that I was going to another small town in Oregon. Several people told me that there wasn't going to be a single person to talk to and that I would want out of town by the end of six weeks. But once again things turned out to be a lot better than I expected them to be. Even though I could walk from one side of the town to the other in twenty minutes I was able to go out into the countryside and enjoy the beauty of nature, plus on top of that I had an awesome companion and found lots of people to teach. Lots of people who got baptized too. It was a fun couple of transfers.

A Baptism in Junction City.

At the time I transferred from Junction City I learned I was going to yet another small town that was a distance from the closest city. The town I was going to was Winston. When I asked the people in Junction City what they knew about Winston all they could tell me was that it was near Roseburg and that there was an animal safari. The missionaries I talked to said that there wasn't that much potential for the area and that I would want out after six weeks. But with past experience I decided that I would try to make the best of Winston and Winston turned into my favorite area of my whole mission. I met one of my best friends in the whole world in Winston. Enjoyed talking to friendly polite people. And even saw a baptism.

The farmland of Winston

When I left Winston I was sad to go I loved the area and the people so much and I was afraid of my next area. I was headed off to the dreadful coast for a probable couple of months. I didn't want to go to the coast. I wasn't excited for cold winter storms with howling rains. I didn't want to meet lots of tourists, who didn't live anywhere near Newport. And on top of all of that I felt like the ocean was going to be a wall that would stop me from going to the edges of the earth. But once again the area has turned out to be a lot better than I expected it to be. I love seeing the coast everyday, listening to the wind come in off the coast, and I get to meet people from all over the United States. I wouldn't have been able to experience any of these things in any of my other areas.

Newport Coast

Despite all of the negative things that I have heard about my areas I have loved every single one of them. Some of them have been more successful than others, but there was always something to enjoy, something to love. Whatever it was that I loved it showed me that the area wasn't bad like people had told me. The same thing is true about the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Lots of people can say all kinds of  mean and hurtful things about the Church and about the Gospel. But they are emphasizing the negatives instead of the positive. There are so many positives about the Gospel and all it takes to find out about those positives is to go and to find out about them for ourselves. Because people will say all kinds of things, but until we find out for ourselves we will never know if they're telling the truth. So check out the Church and the Gospel and find out for yourself if it's good or bad.

Links to learn more about the Church and the Gospel

Find a local LDS Chapel

Basic Mormon beliefs

Visit with Mormon Missionaries

Order a free Book of Mormon

Small Growth

Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.

Alma 37:6

My favorite place in the world is the Grand Canyon. It is a place that I love to visit and hike. I have vivid memories of the many trips I have made to the canyon. From the rims I have seen miles of side canyons and the mighty Colorado. Within the walls of the canyon I have dipped my feet into the water of falls and creeks that run through the desert environment. But the most impressive thing to me was standing on the edge of the Colorado River and staring up at the South Rim and realizing how far down I was, the entire thing was amazing.

On that day when I stood and stared up at the horizon I remembered a principle that I had been taught in every geology class that I had ever taken, that principle was erosion. Erosion is the process of wearing away the landscape by forces of nature such as wind or water. It was through the process of erosion that the Grand Canyon was formed. For millions and millions and millions of years the Colorado River made its course through Northern Arizona and cut through the landscape. As the years passed the river had carried away bits and pieces of the rocks that it flowed through. At first the sediment that was carried away wasn't all that impressive, but as the years went by the Canyon was slowly formed, until it became the most impressive canyon on the planet.

In my life I have had experiences that have changed me dramatically, but those changes have sometimes taken months and even years before I have seen the end result. A lot of those changes have taken place here on my mission. But the interesting thing about most of those changes is that it has taken me a long time to even notice that they have happened. But looking back on where I've come from to where I am now I am better able to put into perspective the changes that have been made in my life. All of those changes have resulted in me being a better person than when I left on my mission.

Me at the beginning of my mission.

For instance when I left on my mission I felt pretty confident about the challenges that laid ahead of me. I had just finished a year of college and felt as if I could handle anything that came at me. Within one week of being at the Missionary Training Center I realized just how wrong I was. I found myself incompetent at studying. Not very observant of those around me. And most importantly I shrunk from social interactions. I honestly felt that there was no way that I could survive a mission at all at that point in my life. If I didn't know the Gospel very well, couldn't listen to people very well, and couldn't even get the courage to talk to people how was I expected to go and be a missionary?

When I got into the mission field none of those things were resolved. I still felt like I was a bad missionary, but I decided to trek onward. So for eight months I trudged through my mission just trying to make it from one day to the next. At the end of each day I would comeback to my apartment and review what had happened that day. Most days felt about the same and at the end of most days I really didn't feel all that different from the way I had felt before.  

The interesting thing to me was that the longer I stayed out on my mission the more I was able to get a better perspective of myself. Though at the end of each day I still felt like the same person and still felt like nothing had changed there was a large change happening inside of me. By the time that I had been out for eight months I wasn't as depressed about my prospects of the mission, I felt confident and I felt like I was finally able to listen to people and help them. Then by the time I hit my yearmark I felt a lot more confident in my knowledge of the Gospel and I felt as if every time I studied something from the Scriptures that I was learning something new and uplifting. Then at around eighteen months I thought back on my mission and realized that I now wasn't too afraid to talk to people anymore. 

All of these changes that have happened to me have been amazing to me. But the most amazing thing about these changes is how they came about. I didn't become a good listener during one lesson, it took many lessons and many times of talking to people. Being confident in my Gospel knowledge didn't come from one major study session in the MTC or one morning on my mission, it came from constant study of the scriptures. Being able to talk to people didn't come from just one conversation, but from many awkward conversations, that eventually weren't as awkward as they had been before. All of these changes had come through time lots of time and lots of practice.

When it comes to seeing changes in our lives the principle is the same as it was for me. Oftentimes we get discouraged when it seems that we are not changing, if we don't have the testimony we want, or aren't the person we want to be. All of those things are understandable, but they shouldn't get us down. Building a testimony and changing into a better person takes time. So let us press forward, let us study the scriptures, let us try every day to be a little bit better and let us all rely on our Savior. Eventually we will be able to look back on our lives and see changes that are just as visible as the Grand Canyon.

Me now.