Dear
Family,
I'm
finding it a struggle to culminate my thoughts, feelings, and growth into a
final email; to bring such a dramatic life-and-character-changing experience
into some few poignant words at the finale of this adventure.
But I
will do my best.
Starting
from before the beginning, I had always had the thought in my mind to serve a
mission. I knew that was what I wanted. The age change came, however,
and I realized something about myself: I wasn't ready. I was far from prepared
to serve the Lord, and, as growing up in Utah county would have it, many of my
friends and acquaintances celebrated the opportunity to serve earlier. I
didn't. I had this sinking feeling in my heart, a growing knowledge that I had
sought to repress time and time again, that I wasn't worthy. This announcement
became a bucket of cold water poured on my head, a wake-up call of what was
important to me. So it took some time, and I prepared.
I can't
say that I was fully prepared even going into the mission field. I don't think
it's possible to be fully prepared, except that it was possible to be prepared
to change. And that's what I was. Coming on mission, I knew that whoever I was
before could, and should, be different upon my return. As I reached the MTC, I
quickly realized that I wasn't prepared for the separation that those changes
required in order for the influence of Him to be present. I found myself
separated from anyone that I knew, in a foreign country whose culture and people
were nothing like anything or anyone I had ever come in contact with before. In
the MTC, I found myself saying, "if it is like this when I reach Liberia,
I'm going home." That was a decision in my mind. Thus I let another
circumstance shape my decision.
I
reached Liberia, and, in a manner of using brief words, I knew it was right. I
knew that was where I was supposed to be. It wasn't easy. It was one of the
hardest times of my life, and those times shaped who I am.
Experience
after experience, companion after companion, I began to learn. I began to
understand in part the power of the Atonement of Christ, and I learned to rely
on Him, for I was in places and in situations unlike any I had encountered
before. I made mistakes. I wasn't perfect. Through my weaknesses, however, I
learned.
I didn't
learn everything. But it was, and is, my aim. Coming on mission, I didn't know
what the gospel meant to me. I grew up in American Fork, Utah, where I was
surrounded by other members, and the words and counsels given to me often
sounded routine in my ears. They didn't mean much to me, and I didn't
understand the vibrant way I saw others fulfilling their responsibilities,
taking part in activities, and serving selflessly.
Time
passed. I became more comfortable with life as a missionary. For the first time
in my life, I would initiate conversations about gospel topics. I would share
my beliefs with others. I began to learn what it meant to love someone else and
share the things that have blessed my life, but first I had to learn what
blessings I had because of these things. Each day I learned something
new. I was corrected, chastised, and instructed time and time again, but I
found that each time I received such things I grew.
My
companions changed, my assignments changed, and my responsibilities changed. Each
change in circumstance brought a greater change in me.
And then
Ebola was in Liberia, and I found myself somewhere else. I had to take a step
back and reevaluate myself. It took time, and I began to see what my personal
"Goliaths" are. I began to understand what it meant to be sensitive
to the spirit, what it meant to love those around, and how I could do those
things a bit better. Just a bit better, each time. A bit better, that's all I
needed to do each day.
I
adapted, over time, and made friends. I had lingering doubts, and negative
feelings from not having closure through the evacuation persisted. I noticed,
however, even up to this day, that experiences came, and I met new people each
time, to provide just what I needed to progress a bit more. Some people have
meant so much to me that I would even consider them family.
And
that's something I have loved about mission. Family. I have been away from my
family for two years, yet I have found that there are connections between us
that we have simply forgotten. We really are all family.
It's
time for another change. It's time for my circumstances to be different, and
adaptation needs to take place once again. I pray that the lessons I have
learned while I have been out here will stay with me throughout my life.
Although my calling is changing, I have still made covenants, and I am still
the same son of our Heavenly Father. I know that He would not have me learn so
many things and feel so many of these things for it to go to waste after a set
date, no, there are more things to be learned. There are more adventures
waiting.
I do
know these things are true. I have stood and sat before countless people of all
different backgrounds and occupations, and I will simply and boldly share these
things with you as much as I would with those before. This church is true, and
is governed by our Savior. Joseph Smith, no matter what slander and lies are
presented and proclaimed about him, is a true prophet, and he did experience
those things that he testified and died for. The Book of Mormon is a true
record, and the knowledge of this truth will set one free, as the scriptures
state. I know the Atonement is real. Jesus Christ suffered and died for each of
us, and He knows us personally. We are the children of our Heavenly Father, and
as such we have divine potential, potential that our Heavenly Father, in His
love, wishes for us to reach, even in such great love to give his Only Begotten
Son.
I do
know these things are true.
No
matter the circumstances, we can change and follow Him, be it a 180 degree or a
1 degree change. I know that He lives, and He loves us, come what may.
See you
soon.
Love,
Elder
Makani Rain Price
