So Nottingham! Robin
Hood and oo-da-lally and all of that right? Yeah, actually. Quite a bit of
that. There are quite a few Robin Hood references about. There's a street
called 'Maid Marian Way' which I think is hilarious. Beyond that, it's mostly
companies that want to be cool that take some kind of Robin Hood name. I have
not been to the Sherwood Forest—I'm pretty sure it's out of the mission. I have
been to the little town called Sherwood, though, so that's something. Two
things about actual Nottingham 1: There are a ridiculous amount of people here.
So many. And so few of them are English! 2: Everyone calls you duck. People
have weird terms of endearment over here in England. 'Love' is pretty standard.
'Butt' is only in Wales. And 'duck' is Nottingham. "Ay up, mah duck! Yeh
alright? I'm just off to have a chippy, if you've a quid I'll get you a
portion." Britishism for the month. And you all thought that I wasn't
speaking a different language. ;)
I've also got a new
companion! Sister Marsden is so cute. She is 4'11", from
Idaho, a ballerina, and she goes home in a few weeks. #crazy It's been a really
fun month with her. Getting to know a new companion is always interesting. I
was rereading my first-ever blog post this morning and my thoughts about
companion relationships. Very true. We are expected to be one. That doesn't
mean always having the same ideas or never disagreeing, it just means that, no
matter what happens, you're willing to work it out. Having different ideas is
an essential part of a companionship. By bridging the gap between the two of
you, you find a highly effective happy medium. I've seen it happen. It's true
of all relationships too. Friendships, family relationships, romantic
relationships. It's all about finding the place where the two of you can exist
together, celebrating everything else, but really focusing in on what you agree
on, and what you can do together.
These last nine months
have been absolutely and completely life changing. I have learned so much about
who God desires for me to be, and what He wants me to do. I've learned a lot
about that even in the past month serving in the Mission Leadership Council. As
Sister Training Leaders, we are responsible for looking after the emotional,
spiritual and physical welfare of the sisters in two stakes (areas). Right now,
there aren't many sisters in the mission (we only have two teams of sisters),
but our responsibility is to serve them. There have been countless days in the
last month when one of our sisters have needed help, and we just had to drop everything,
cancel appointments and do whatever we had to, to put them first. It has been
the best feeling I have ever experienced. To put others first. To really put
others first. What an absolute joy. I love our sisters so much.
I realized recently
that a year before my nine month mark I summited a mountain called Mount
Whitney. If you don’t know, Mount Whitney is over 14,000 feet tall (so like,
really tall). It doesn't require ropes and pick axes and all that intense stuff
to get up it, but it is about a three day backpacking trip for everyone who
isn't super human. About three years ago, my dad and some of his friends
climbed this mountain and loved it. My family is pretty outdoorsy so we decided
to go again, my dad, brother and I and some close family friends.
It was an intense
three days. The first day, we gained loads of elevation. We were all getting
used to our packs and the trail. It was a fun day, but we really didn't have
any concept of how big of a task we had undertaken. There's also this thing in
backpacking where once you get dirty enough you just don't feel it anymore, but
that first day you can still feel the dirt. So that's gross. As I said, we
gained a ton of elevation that day. I can't remember our
starting elevation, but we ended up at 10,000 feet. It was a long day. At the
beginning of the day, I was hyped. I was ready to tackle this mountain. Heck, I
felt like I could practically run up the whole thing! Halfway through the day,
my tune changed. Part of me just wished I was done already, but I settled into
a rhythm and I carried on. By the time we made camp, I was half dead. I fell
asleep before the sun even went down.
Then, day two hit. Right
when the sun rose, we were up and on our way. Day two was summit day. We had
4,000 feet to gain in one day, 99 switchbacks to climb, the most treacherous
part of the trail to navigate, and we needed to get back down below 10,000 feet
before night fell. We had a lot to do. But we set right in and scaled the
switchbacks pretty handily. The Windows, as the scary part of the trail is
called, we took more time with. And then we had the long, slow, gradual slope
up to the summit. I think that was the most frustrating part of the climb for
me. I could see the summit. I could see it. But it was going
to take at least 20 more minutes to get there. Once we were at the top, we took
a short break, took some pictures, ate some celebration snacks and then we
headed back down. We still had a lot to do. The end of that day was the most
fun, I think. We were riding the high of the summit, gravity was carrying us
down, and we knew that, by the end of the next day, we would be home and
showered. We laughed and sang a lot that evening, and barely made camp before
night fell.
The last day was a
riot. We were booking it down the mountain, because there was this little cafe
at the bottom that served breakfast until 10:00, and we wanted victory
breakfast. They're famous for their pancakes, and I think we adapted about
every song in the universe to be about pancakes that morning. We were having a
great time. And then, really quickly, it was over. And we were heading home,
with the mountain fading behind us.
The reason I told you
all of that is because I have this metaphor for myself that, while Whitney was
my physical mountain, the mission is my spiritual mountain. Mount Whitney
changed my life. In a way that only climbing a mountain can, it made me
evaluate my priorities. It made me think about what I can actually accomplish,
and what I want to accomplish. It changed the way I saw myself. The mission is
finishing off the process that Whitney started. I have become new on this
mountain I'm climbing, and I've started to track my progress by comparing my
mission to the Mount Whitney trip.
My mission has three
six month periods, three days, if you will. The first day of Whitney sounds a
whole heck of a lot like my first six months. The last three months have
totally been the first half of day two. I can imagine that the rest of my
mission will follow pretty closely. And June 17? June 17 was summit day. My
actual, literal half way. The day itself was pretty uneventful, but it was an
interesting moment for me to realise that, from here on out, I'm on my way
home, in a way.
I really don't know
how to explain this without sounding like I want to come home now—I don’t…not
yet—but there's something really encouraging about knowing that you've hit the
summit, the uphill is behind you, and all that lies in front of you is a
triumphant finish, family, friends, and a well-earned shower. (I promise I
shower... It's a metaphor, okay?) The second half of the mountain is the time
that you let the momentum carry you. You don't have to drag yourself up any
more, you’re just dancing on down. I don't know if I'm explaining it well at
all, but there's this almost imperceptible mental shift that takes place where,
suddenly, nine months seems really short.
Since I'm still pretty
much at my summit, I thought I'd share a few of my thoughts from the top:
1) Nothing is
permanent but the love of God. I've been through a lot in the past nine months.
Good things, bad things, things that are some funky shade of grey in between,
the whole lot. The good things pass, the party ends, but the love of God stays.
The bad things eventually end, the trials fade into memory, and the love of God
is still there. Whatever happens, you'll be alright in the end. God won't leave
you alone.
2) We have no concept
of what God wants us to do until He tells us. To assume we know what God wants
from us is to put Him in a box, and that is not good. When He tells us what He
wants us to do, then we know, and we can act on that. Additionally, once He
does tell us, we have a tendency to tell Him that that couldn't possibly be
what He wants, which is a little ridiculous for obvious reasons. But hey, I'm
guilty.
3) You cannot measure
a mission by baptisms. For those of you who have been wondering whether I'm
cleverly concealing my 1,000 converts from you all, I'm not. I've yet to see even
one baptism on my mission. Well, I've seen them, but they haven't been people I
was teaching. However, I have worked hard, I have done God's will for me, and
I've seen so many miracles, so many amazing things. I can honestly say that I
have no regrets about my mission so far. A mission is so much more than numbers
and leadership positions. It's about what you learn, who you meet, and most
importantly, who you become.
4) I've been out for
nine months. I still don't fully know how to be a missionary. My companion goes
home in two weeks. She still doesn't fully know how to be a missionary. None of
us fully know. We just trust the Lord and go for it. God truly does guide and
uphold this work.
5) If you try to live
life on your own, good luck. I've tried it a time or two out here, and it was
an absolute nightmare. I need God in my life. I need His strength and His
wisdom. We all do.
So what did I learn
this month? When we ask the Lord to make us better, He gives us a mountain. On
mountains, we grow. We become more. We push ourselves past what we thought we
could do and reach new heights. And when we've finished, we have a new
perception of ourselves. I've learned not to ask for mountains greater than the
ones I'm given. I've learned that what is right in front of us is exactly what
we need, even if we don't exactly want it. And, most importantly, I've learned
that the destination is worth the climb, however big or small the mountain may
be. The destination is always worth it.
So hang in there, keep
climbing. Sing a silly song, make yourself a funny video, do things that make
you happy! Hiking is not a sad experience! Sure, it's not easy, but it's a time
to enjoy the people around you and the beautiful views God has blessed you
with! I love you all! Have a marvellous month!
Love,
Sister Pike
P.S. If anyone is
wondering what the 'Mormons' are all about, get yourself a Book of Mormon and
start reading. First off, it's a great read. Secondly, it's true, and it will
change your life.
P.P.S. Oh, also,
driving here is terrifying. I thought biking was crazy, driving is
asdfgkhkgjlhsfkg. That's the technical term.
