I remember my first car was a 1981 Toyota Tercel wagon. It was blue and pretty cool. I don't know if my like for wagons started with this vehicle or before this time, but the love of wagons has continued. While I don't remember too many adventures in this Tercel, I do recall Dad and I going to various car audio stores to find something we could do to get a nice stereo system in this car. Together, we replaced the stereo that was in there and we splurged and got some boxes for the back part of the car (in the wagon area). The previous radio only had front speakers. I don't know why Dad supported doing this. I know he loves music, but I'm sure he didn't really love the music I listened too - or how loud I listened to it. I remember the little tiny boxes that we put back there for some 5 inch speakers. I also remember being appalled at how much it cost to do this tiny upgrade. As I was hot-rodding around town in this little wagon, the speakers would bounce across the wagon part of the car. It seems like we ended up rigging something up to keep them in place after they came free from the wires a few times.
A few years later, I don't even recall why, I thought it was time for a change. We ended up getting white Chevy Nova. Not the big muscle car Nova like my friend John Stimpson had growing up, but a little passenger car. I recall wondering numerous times how Chevy had come to taking a muscle car down to this small, gas-friendly commuter-style car. A person could wonder multiple other things about what GM was doing with its vehicles, I think their crash in the 2007 showed that they really had no idea what they were doing either. Regardless, this little car was a grand upgrade and I loved it. As I grew an infatuation with, similar to the wagon infatuation, this car was a manual transmission (as a side note, so was the Tercel).
This car was kind of like a cat - it had multiple lives. It started out one night on a dark road with some loud music and changing the station while driving. My friend Tim Ashby and I were headed up to an event at the high school. I think it was a basketball game. We were driving just above the railroad tracks on a little back road that we usually took to avoid traffic, and get over the railroad tracks it they were open. I reached down to change the radio station and mid-sentence with Tim the car jolted 90 degrees to the right and stopped in the middle of the road. The car was still running and Tim and I were ok. There were headlights coming our direction, so we decided to get out of the way. I put the car in gear and tried to go, but it just revved up and sat there. After a few more tries, we decided to get out and see what had happened. Turns out that we snagged the side of a parked flat-bed trailer - the kind with the wheel well that sticks out a foot or two beyond the trailer bed. We just barely caught the wheel enough to slightly damage the fender of my car, but snap the axle in two.
It was this night that I learned a lot about my Dad. I knew he was always there for me, but Dad also has the patience of steel. Somehow we called Dad and he came right up. Who knows what he was in the middle of doing. He got on the scene and made sure Tim and I were ok. He took care of any formalities with the police and owner of the trailer. The way I remember it, he sent Tim and I on our way in his car and said we'd chat about it later. I don't recall even getting cited with a ticket for this accident. The trailer wasn't supposed to be parked on the road during this time of the year and it was posted, mostly for snow, so I believe if any citation was issued it went to the trailer owner. Seems like we were related to the owner, or our family had some kind of relationship with them, so Dad was reluctant to allow the insurance to do anything with this accident. Even though Dad had fronted the cost for this car that I just wrecked and caused damage to, he didn't hold it over my head. Instead this started a bonding adventure for Dad and I where I learned a lot about him.
First lesson learned, Dad valued people and relationships. He wasn't willing to mess with whatever relationship we had with these people over a little damage to a car. He knew that money didn't mean much, even though we lived on a tight budget.
Second lesson learned, Dad love me and worried about me. I don't recall any lectures or belittling of any kind after I wrecked Dad's car. He made sure I was ok and sent me on my way to do what I thought was important that night (the basketball game). He enabled me to continue on with whatever I was doing without making me feel bad or nervous about what was to come. This may be only in my mind, but I recall sitting down with Dad after this incident and talking about options of how to fix the problem. Dad didn't ever say anything that made me feel like I had messed up. He knew that I knew I had messed up and he took advantage of that situation to help me learn how to fix something I had messed up.
Third and many other lessons came from the next steps. We decided it was too expensive to fix this car, so we found another one - the exact same, but it was an automatic transmission. This car only lasted a little while and the transmission went out. So, Dad and I took on something that was totally outside of the box for us. We bought back the salvaged first Chevy Nova (with the manual transmission), took the body of the new Chevy Nova (with the automatic transmission that didn't work) and put them together to make Chevy Nova number three. I recall late nights in the garage with Bill Greenwald or Ben Meier (two car gurus in our neighborhood) figuring out how to put these two cars together. Dad and I spent numerous hours trying to figure stuff out, laying on the freezing cold garage floor, or just chatting about whatever was going on. I don't know how long it actually took us to do this. It might have only been a week or two, but I do recall learning a lot about my Dad. One more thing learned in this part of the endeavor was that Dad subscribed to the notion of "use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." I'm so glad that Dad and I had this time together. The lessons learned from this single experience are unlimited. Dad is an amazing man. He is quiet and if you don't watch him or listen to the subtle things that he teaches, you'll miss it. I'm glad I have had so many opportunities to learn with and from him.
After Alisha took over the Nova while I was on my mission, I took over the Volkswagon Golf that Jason had bought after his mission, but left when he wen to Hawaii. I don't recall the financial arrangements of this car, but I'm sure Dad "helped" with this one. Dad and Mom always made it possible for the kids to have transportation. They enabled us to be free, but attached rules to the freedom. I also recall Mom and Dad working out the rules individually with each child. While one child might be financially responsible for something, another was responsible for something else. They knew that we each had different needs and they took the time to adapt to those needs.
I loved the Golf. I drove it for years until after graduating from college. I also put a great stereo system in this car. I hadn't lost my love for music and feeling the music. I recall coming home a few weeks after getting the new system in my car and having Mom come out and feel the music in my car. I don't think she was as impressed as I wanted her to be. I also attribute this decision in my life to my difficulty hearing now (at 33 years old).
After the Golf, I felt like I needed a grown up car to show that I was in a real job and could be responsible. I stepped into my dream car after looking for months at cars in my price range. I think there was a little bit of pride wrapped up in the decision to buy the Audi Allroad, but it was a beautiful car nonetheless and I loved how I felt driving it. It is amazing the change that occurs in driving such a high-end car. Yes, it was fast, beautiful, luxurious, and an Audi. Yes, people look at you differently when you drive an Audi. Yes, you feel different when driving an Audi. But, all of these feelings came from the notions of pride made up in my own mind. Luckily, I got past those feelings in a year or two. I realized I was spending a whole lot of money on a car and that it wasn't worth it. I realized I could have a nice, reliable car for half as much.
It took me a while to decide on a new car. The next car decision ended up being another bad one. I was wheeled and dealed into a lease. I was roped into spending less per month to have a new Honda Element - a car that I loved. It appealed to me because I wanted to have a lower car payment. I also liked having a newer car. I was caught up in getting a new car and I entered into what I thought was a three year lease at $300 per month. With all of the paperwork that you sign I didn't even notice that I was signing contracts that were in Spanish. I also didn't notice the 72 month lease instead of a 36 month lease. I didn't realize this until after Kelly and I were married and looking at when the lease was up. I was taken back by the difference and really mad. It was my fault for signing the contracts and trusting those dealing them out to me.
Kelly and I had to work to fix this lease issue. Somehow, thanks to some blessings and a great dealership and great credit we were able to trade in the Element, get out of the lease and purchase a new Honda Fit. This car was a great out for us on the poor lease decision I had made. Yet another wagon, just like the Golf, Audi and Element. This car was the most versatile vehicle I've ever had. We loved this car and would have ran it into the ground had we not been working on paying down debt and had a great opportunity placed in our laps. I had just finished my Master's program and we were faced with the $45k of debt to pay for it. We had managed to pay for about $20k of it while I was still in school. The rest was still there and we were tight on the budget. The school loan rate was at 7%, ridiculous for the amount of talk of encouraging people to pursue higher education. Mom and Dad came to the rescue again. We were able to take out a loan from them at the going rate of 4.25%, saving us thousands of dollars. Also, as Mom and Dad went on their mission they gifted us their Buick Century and we were able to sell the Honda Fit for a great price to pay down even more of our debt. We successfully paid of the $27k borrowed from Mom and Dad in just over a year - saving us even more in interest.
We've had some great experiences with our cars. We've been blessed as we've tried to recover from not-so-good decisions made.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Week 12 - Tell of some of your family Christmas traditions.
None of the LaMar and Marilyn Holt family kids can deny the fun that was spent on Christmas Eve with our cousins the McIntires. While some of that fun may have been things that we'd want to sweep under the rug and forget about they were all caught on vhs video tape by Dad. I remember Dad setting up the camera in the entry way holding it there with the huge box that held the vhs tape in tow as well. Its interesting that those videos only rarely surface with all of the back ache that must have come along with them.
Every year for Christmas Eve our family would get together with the McIntires. We'd switch years. One year at our house, the next year at their house. There were usually some games attached with some kind of food. There was always a white elephant gift exchange. Many of those white elephants, like the jar of shredded cash from Dad's office desk, returned to the white elephant gift exchange as regularly as the white elephant gift exchange did itself year after year. While the rules of the game changed year after year slightly, the game was always played and still is even though we don't get together with the McIntires hardly at all now that we all have our own families. That same night we'd usually sing some Christmas songs and growing up the kids would all perform the songs they were practicing on the piano or other various instruments - Alisha even broke out the accordion one year.
The reason for the vhs tape not coming out regularly is because it may be seen as a form of blackmail. The film, though none of us really knew it then, captured all of our fine moments of singing, playing the piano, and acting. Each year we would all dress up in various outfits from robes to twinkly halos to perform the nativity. This usually included the typical Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus - sometimes with a doll, others with the newest cousin addition. It also included various animals, shepherds, wisemen (and women - depending on the year). While each year we got together and had fun playing games and singing, we knew that our parents believed in the birth of Jesus. We also learned that we celebrated Christmas each year because of the birth of Jesus. One of the many things that each of the LaMar Holt family kids were blessed with was a set of parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents that all had faith in our Heavenly Father and a testimony of Jesus Christ. This was shared throughout our growing up years not only through their words, but through activities like this that helped us understand their beliefs - and how to act on those beliefs.
The nativity has continued. We do it each year that we get together with the LaMar Holt family. Kelly and I also have started a tradition with our boys and their friends on the street. Each year we get together with them and share a brief (5 minute max) reading of the nativity while the kids "act" it out. Most of the fun is in getting together with friends, dressing up, and eating some fun, festive snacks afterwards, but I hope this tradition will instill in our children's minds not only the "reason for the season" but also the testimonies that Kelly and I have of our Father in Heaven and our Savior, Jesus Christ. I also hope it will carve out a little memory in their minds of fun times and things to look forward to each year, just as I did growing up. As I've written many times over the past few weeks, I am amazed at the effort our parents went through to serve each of their kids. The time, effort, anxiety and sometimes fear that goes into lessons, activities, planning and praying is endless. I pray that my children will have the same blessings that I did growing up and will not be one of the lost generations spoken of in the scriptures. Thank you to Mom and Dad, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends and neighbors, for directing me and keeping me on the path.
Every year for Christmas Eve our family would get together with the McIntires. We'd switch years. One year at our house, the next year at their house. There were usually some games attached with some kind of food. There was always a white elephant gift exchange. Many of those white elephants, like the jar of shredded cash from Dad's office desk, returned to the white elephant gift exchange as regularly as the white elephant gift exchange did itself year after year. While the rules of the game changed year after year slightly, the game was always played and still is even though we don't get together with the McIntires hardly at all now that we all have our own families. That same night we'd usually sing some Christmas songs and growing up the kids would all perform the songs they were practicing on the piano or other various instruments - Alisha even broke out the accordion one year.
The reason for the vhs tape not coming out regularly is because it may be seen as a form of blackmail. The film, though none of us really knew it then, captured all of our fine moments of singing, playing the piano, and acting. Each year we would all dress up in various outfits from robes to twinkly halos to perform the nativity. This usually included the typical Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus - sometimes with a doll, others with the newest cousin addition. It also included various animals, shepherds, wisemen (and women - depending on the year). While each year we got together and had fun playing games and singing, we knew that our parents believed in the birth of Jesus. We also learned that we celebrated Christmas each year because of the birth of Jesus. One of the many things that each of the LaMar Holt family kids were blessed with was a set of parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents that all had faith in our Heavenly Father and a testimony of Jesus Christ. This was shared throughout our growing up years not only through their words, but through activities like this that helped us understand their beliefs - and how to act on those beliefs.
The nativity has continued. We do it each year that we get together with the LaMar Holt family. Kelly and I also have started a tradition with our boys and their friends on the street. Each year we get together with them and share a brief (5 minute max) reading of the nativity while the kids "act" it out. Most of the fun is in getting together with friends, dressing up, and eating some fun, festive snacks afterwards, but I hope this tradition will instill in our children's minds not only the "reason for the season" but also the testimonies that Kelly and I have of our Father in Heaven and our Savior, Jesus Christ. I also hope it will carve out a little memory in their minds of fun times and things to look forward to each year, just as I did growing up. As I've written many times over the past few weeks, I am amazed at the effort our parents went through to serve each of their kids. The time, effort, anxiety and sometimes fear that goes into lessons, activities, planning and praying is endless. I pray that my children will have the same blessings that I did growing up and will not be one of the lost generations spoken of in the scriptures. Thank you to Mom and Dad, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends and neighbors, for directing me and keeping me on the path.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Week 11 - Tell about a family vacation that was special to you.
Our family grew up going to St. George to visit Grandpa and Grandma Holt. That was our vacation each year. I have great memories, some of which I have shared, of being in Enterprise, Utah. Grandma and Grandpa's home was a comfortable place to be. I know we went to the Grand Canyon once. I don't recall much of that trip. I do recall the stories that have been told of Jason driving part of the way, and I do recall realizing that I had a fear of heights at the Grand Canyon. There are pictures to prove that I went to Disneyland when I was three years old, there is no recollection of the event in my mind.
One special trip that we had was going to Guatemala to visit Uncle Craig and Aunt Judy while they were serving in the church down there. Looking at it now, I don't really know how we were able to afford such an extravagant trip. I'm sure that Mom and Dad saved for years to be able to take us all there - and have a Christmas celebration while we were there. Thinking about it now, having only two children, Mom and Dad must have really wanted to go, or were a little crazy to go on this vacation with five children from the ages of 16 to five.
In Guatemala, we were able to experience an entirely different culture, climate and walk of life. We were exposed to things that we had only seen on TV or read in books. We walked through the rainforests of Tikal and saw what has been recognized as some of the Book of Mormon lands. We walked through streets full of vendors selling their goods. We saw street carnivals, ladies carrying their laundry in bags as bigger than themselves on their heads, firecrackers as big as a mailbox, and citrus fruit trees. We walked on beaches and swam in the Gulf of Mexico. While I can't tell you all of the details of the trip, this was a very special gift to us. It was a gift that keeps on giving. The opportunity to learn and be a part of a different culture at that young of an age has played a role in how I view life and other cultures. I believe that this played a huge role when I went to college and seriously considered Anthropology and Sociology as my field of study. To this day I love learning about other countries, cultures and religions. I also love trying the foods of other nations and cultures. I hope that I have the opportunity to provide a similar experience for my children as they grow up.
Speaking of, this experience isn't while I was growing up, but in the recent past. Shortly after Kelly and I got married, we decided it was time for me to complete my Masters degree. It was one of my bucket list items and Kelly was fully supportive of helping me do it. It was a great time to do it where we hadn't started bringing children to our family and we were both employed to help support this endeavor. As we got to the end of my program, we planned on having our first child - Ivin. He came a few months before I finished my program. One of my last classes was to go on an trip to experience business in another nation. Of the three options, I chose to go to Ireland. With Kelly's roots being from Ireland we decided to figure out a way to get Kelly there also. Now that we had a new baby, this was going to be a little difficult.
So, just as I was finishing my few weeks in Ireland and the UK, Kelly and 6-week Ivin came over to meet me. We met in London. Luckily, it was Amy and Jason Brown's 10-year anniversary. They had been planning to go back to Paris, where they both served their missions for a few years leading up to the event. The stars aligned and Kelly was able to book her flight along with Jason and Amy Brown across the ocean to London. We only spent a day or so together in London, then they were off to Paris and we were off to Ireland. All in the same day, we caught a cab to the train station, rode the train out of the city, hopped on a ferry across the ocean to Ireland, and rode another cab into Dublin where our first hotel was located.
While in Ireland we had all kinds of adventures. The most exciting one was being able to take Katie Register (Kelly's sister) out to dinner along with her companions. Katie was serving a mission in Ireland at the time. The history of the UK and Ireland were eye openers to how young our country really is. This nation has truly been blessed and set up as a "promised land" for us in the latter-days. It is amazing that with such a history outside of the United States, that this young, inexperienced country, is viewed as a world power and leader. Taking a few weeks to look into this culture and history has been key to a greater understanding of the scriptures and the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. It has opened my mind up to understanding some of the history of our nation and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Another family vacation that really sticks out in my mind was when we went to North Carolina to celebration Jason Brown's graduation from Duke University. This trip to the Outerbanks area was super cool for me. I think it is one of the most relaxed vacations I've ever had in my life. It was great to see Jason Brown's family and get to know them on a more personal level. It was great to be on the ocean. It was great to be together as a huge family, in a huge house away from all the cares in the world.
One special trip that we had was going to Guatemala to visit Uncle Craig and Aunt Judy while they were serving in the church down there. Looking at it now, I don't really know how we were able to afford such an extravagant trip. I'm sure that Mom and Dad saved for years to be able to take us all there - and have a Christmas celebration while we were there. Thinking about it now, having only two children, Mom and Dad must have really wanted to go, or were a little crazy to go on this vacation with five children from the ages of 16 to five.
In Guatemala, we were able to experience an entirely different culture, climate and walk of life. We were exposed to things that we had only seen on TV or read in books. We walked through the rainforests of Tikal and saw what has been recognized as some of the Book of Mormon lands. We walked through streets full of vendors selling their goods. We saw street carnivals, ladies carrying their laundry in bags as bigger than themselves on their heads, firecrackers as big as a mailbox, and citrus fruit trees. We walked on beaches and swam in the Gulf of Mexico. While I can't tell you all of the details of the trip, this was a very special gift to us. It was a gift that keeps on giving. The opportunity to learn and be a part of a different culture at that young of an age has played a role in how I view life and other cultures. I believe that this played a huge role when I went to college and seriously considered Anthropology and Sociology as my field of study. To this day I love learning about other countries, cultures and religions. I also love trying the foods of other nations and cultures. I hope that I have the opportunity to provide a similar experience for my children as they grow up.
Speaking of, this experience isn't while I was growing up, but in the recent past. Shortly after Kelly and I got married, we decided it was time for me to complete my Masters degree. It was one of my bucket list items and Kelly was fully supportive of helping me do it. It was a great time to do it where we hadn't started bringing children to our family and we were both employed to help support this endeavor. As we got to the end of my program, we planned on having our first child - Ivin. He came a few months before I finished my program. One of my last classes was to go on an trip to experience business in another nation. Of the three options, I chose to go to Ireland. With Kelly's roots being from Ireland we decided to figure out a way to get Kelly there also. Now that we had a new baby, this was going to be a little difficult.
So, just as I was finishing my few weeks in Ireland and the UK, Kelly and 6-week Ivin came over to meet me. We met in London. Luckily, it was Amy and Jason Brown's 10-year anniversary. They had been planning to go back to Paris, where they both served their missions for a few years leading up to the event. The stars aligned and Kelly was able to book her flight along with Jason and Amy Brown across the ocean to London. We only spent a day or so together in London, then they were off to Paris and we were off to Ireland. All in the same day, we caught a cab to the train station, rode the train out of the city, hopped on a ferry across the ocean to Ireland, and rode another cab into Dublin where our first hotel was located.
While in Ireland we had all kinds of adventures. The most exciting one was being able to take Katie Register (Kelly's sister) out to dinner along with her companions. Katie was serving a mission in Ireland at the time. The history of the UK and Ireland were eye openers to how young our country really is. This nation has truly been blessed and set up as a "promised land" for us in the latter-days. It is amazing that with such a history outside of the United States, that this young, inexperienced country, is viewed as a world power and leader. Taking a few weeks to look into this culture and history has been key to a greater understanding of the scriptures and the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. It has opened my mind up to understanding some of the history of our nation and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Another family vacation that really sticks out in my mind was when we went to North Carolina to celebration Jason Brown's graduation from Duke University. This trip to the Outerbanks area was super cool for me. I think it is one of the most relaxed vacations I've ever had in my life. It was great to see Jason Brown's family and get to know them on a more personal level. It was great to be on the ocean. It was great to be together as a huge family, in a huge house away from all the cares in the world.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Week 10 - What's been the biggest battle in life so far for you?
For some reason I had quite the battle of finding myself on my mission. I grew up wanting to go on a mission, especially after my older brother went on a mission. I always wanted to be like him. Even up through high school, where I felt like somewhat of a religious leader among my peers being on the Roy High School Seminary Council, I wanted to be a missionary. I had my mind made up that I would be on a mission after school.
Somewhere in there I started to question the idea of going on a mission. I didn't have anything against the church, I just didn't know if a mission was for me. I left home to go to school at snow college. I remained active in church and took religion classes at the Snow College Institute, but for some reason I felt distant from the church. Maybe it was the rebellious side of me coming out - I didn't really know that I had one of those. It could have been the fear of change and going out into some crazy land virtually on my own. I don't know. Whatever it was, I felt distant and like a visitor learning about the church rather than a part of the church when I attended my meetings and classes.
Among my other experiences at Snow College of exploring life away from home and "being responsible" for myself, I had a class at the Institute on The Book of Mormon. Now, I had read the Book of Mormon multiple times. I knew that it was a true book of scripture from our Heavenly Father. I gained that testimony on my own and thanks to some bold help from my parents requiring me to wake up and read with them every morning from the time that I couldn't even read. This class wasn't really anything special that I remember. But, I do remember that feeling of being an outsider, instead of the insider that I had always been in church-related things.
One day, after our class, my teacher and I were talking. While I don't remember the whole conversation, I do remember him telling me that he knew something was bothering me. While it wasn't a deep conversation, he told me that if I would approach my Heavenly Father in prayer about whatever was lacking in my life, He would help me fill in that gap. That comment must have really hit me, because that very night I went home and prayed about it. I don't remember any big ritual of trying to prepare myself for a special prayer or a fast or anything. But, I do remember kneeling down in my little shared dorm room and praying for some help. I don't really recall praying for anything specific, except some help.
The next morning I woke up with the strongest impression I believe I have ever felt. I knew that I needed to leave school and go on a mission. This was around Thanksgiving time and I still had a few weeks left of class. I remember pretty well checking out of school and coming home. I don't recall finishing up my classes, but I know that I received credit for some of them. I can't remember if I called my parents and told them I was coming home, or if I just showed up on the doorstep with my things letting them know I was done with school and ready to go on a mission.
Now, that wasn't the fix all. Much like getting married doesn't fix any relationship, I had to do a lot more work. This was only the beginning of my mission struggles. Leading up to going on my mission I had a huge break down the night before. I remember calling my best friend Emilee and chatting with her to get some confidence that I could really do this. I struggled through the Missionary Training Center (MTC). Learning Korean was hard and I think it took a toll on our little district of missionaries heading there. There were multiple fights and an alignment of missionaries vs the other missionaries. Unfortunately, I fell on the side that wasn't necessarily in the right and was trying to tear apart those that were. I was blessed with the great opportunity of having a companion that had already learned some of the language and was excelling at everything. I think I got a little spiteful and helped cause some problems with that spite. One of our group went home a few times from the MTC with health issues and mental issues (trying to decide if he was really ready). We went through a few different companionships in our little 12 week stint at the MTC.
When we got to Korea, I got a trainer that I think wanted to change some past things he had been doing in the mission that were against the rules. He had a lot on his shoulders with wanted to change and a new companion that didn't know anything about Korea, including the language. Unfortunately, I wasn't much of a support to him and we ended up spending time with some of the other missionaries that didn't really keep the rules of the mission that my trainer was trying to break free from. I learned a way of missionary work that was more of "kicking against the pricks" than helping out the work. I became a part of an underground group of missionaries that didn't really do anything bad, but didn't do anything good. I don't know if this exists in every mission, but it did in mine. On a few occasions, I got word from our mission president that he was called in to clean up the mess that was going on with the missionaries in our mission. There were new rule books that were put into place and freedoms taken away to clean up the mission. Unfortunately, I became a part of the cleaning that needed to happen.
While I feel uneasy about the time that was left wasted in Korea and I worry a bit about those that I did not teach because of my disobedience to the mission rules, I feel like I have been forgiven that time in Korea. About halfway through my mission, I was given a companion that had been out on the coast. I didn't have a history with him and he had no history of me. Elder Palmer was an answer to another prayer. This little thing called "guilt" had really started to settle in on my shoulders. I started to realize all of the wasted time I had had in Korea. I started to feel bad. I was worn out and tired of fighting. I think I was even quite homesick feeling that "if this was all I was going to do in Korea, I could be doing better things as home." I prayed for help and Elder Palmer came at the next transfer of missionaries.
Elder Palmer was a missionary that understood missionary work. He wasn't a pavement pounding proselyter, he wasn't a guy that worked to knock every door in the area in one day either. I had had companions like that, and I think they caused more angst with missionary work than anything. Elder Palmer came from a slower way of life on the coast of Korea. He loved the people there and they loved him. He spent hours and days in their service and the people flocked to him. Elder Palmer knew Korean, not that you have to speak a language fluently to be a good missionary, but his love for the people cause him to put in the effort to learn the language. He caused the Korean's to turn their heads when he was talking on the street because his speech was so fluid and native. People would just talk to him at the wonder of an American speaking such like a Korean - with a coastal dialect for that matter.
Elder Palmer also loved me. He became a big brother that I could tell all my troubles to without worry of him looking down on me. He lifted me up and helped me move past the past that I had in Korea. He helped me repent. I came clean with my mission president. I did everything I could to stop the "underground" things that were going on in our mission. Elder Palmer and I worked too. We worked hard, but smart. We met quite a few people and taught more first discussions than I had ever taught. We even taught a few people beyond and through the discussions. Elder Palmer went home a few months after he came to save me. But, that few months turned me around and got me on my feet for the rest of my mission. It became a time of making up for lost time the first half of my mission. It was filled with disappointment and satisfaction, sadness and happiness, discouragement and learning. But, the whole time instead of knowing what I was doing was wrong, I knew what I was doing was right. I corrected the wrong path and have been going full steam ever since that time.
I've only ever spoken with Elder Palmer once or twice since that time. He was in Utah on vacation with school once and we got together for an hour or two. I'm grateful to a Heavenly Father that knows what we need and sends it when we ask for help at the perfect time. I know that this earth life is part of His plan that He directs. He knows each of us individually and is there for us when we invite Him in.
Somewhere in there I started to question the idea of going on a mission. I didn't have anything against the church, I just didn't know if a mission was for me. I left home to go to school at snow college. I remained active in church and took religion classes at the Snow College Institute, but for some reason I felt distant from the church. Maybe it was the rebellious side of me coming out - I didn't really know that I had one of those. It could have been the fear of change and going out into some crazy land virtually on my own. I don't know. Whatever it was, I felt distant and like a visitor learning about the church rather than a part of the church when I attended my meetings and classes.
Among my other experiences at Snow College of exploring life away from home and "being responsible" for myself, I had a class at the Institute on The Book of Mormon. Now, I had read the Book of Mormon multiple times. I knew that it was a true book of scripture from our Heavenly Father. I gained that testimony on my own and thanks to some bold help from my parents requiring me to wake up and read with them every morning from the time that I couldn't even read. This class wasn't really anything special that I remember. But, I do remember that feeling of being an outsider, instead of the insider that I had always been in church-related things.
One day, after our class, my teacher and I were talking. While I don't remember the whole conversation, I do remember him telling me that he knew something was bothering me. While it wasn't a deep conversation, he told me that if I would approach my Heavenly Father in prayer about whatever was lacking in my life, He would help me fill in that gap. That comment must have really hit me, because that very night I went home and prayed about it. I don't remember any big ritual of trying to prepare myself for a special prayer or a fast or anything. But, I do remember kneeling down in my little shared dorm room and praying for some help. I don't really recall praying for anything specific, except some help.
The next morning I woke up with the strongest impression I believe I have ever felt. I knew that I needed to leave school and go on a mission. This was around Thanksgiving time and I still had a few weeks left of class. I remember pretty well checking out of school and coming home. I don't recall finishing up my classes, but I know that I received credit for some of them. I can't remember if I called my parents and told them I was coming home, or if I just showed up on the doorstep with my things letting them know I was done with school and ready to go on a mission.
Now, that wasn't the fix all. Much like getting married doesn't fix any relationship, I had to do a lot more work. This was only the beginning of my mission struggles. Leading up to going on my mission I had a huge break down the night before. I remember calling my best friend Emilee and chatting with her to get some confidence that I could really do this. I struggled through the Missionary Training Center (MTC). Learning Korean was hard and I think it took a toll on our little district of missionaries heading there. There were multiple fights and an alignment of missionaries vs the other missionaries. Unfortunately, I fell on the side that wasn't necessarily in the right and was trying to tear apart those that were. I was blessed with the great opportunity of having a companion that had already learned some of the language and was excelling at everything. I think I got a little spiteful and helped cause some problems with that spite. One of our group went home a few times from the MTC with health issues and mental issues (trying to decide if he was really ready). We went through a few different companionships in our little 12 week stint at the MTC.
When we got to Korea, I got a trainer that I think wanted to change some past things he had been doing in the mission that were against the rules. He had a lot on his shoulders with wanted to change and a new companion that didn't know anything about Korea, including the language. Unfortunately, I wasn't much of a support to him and we ended up spending time with some of the other missionaries that didn't really keep the rules of the mission that my trainer was trying to break free from. I learned a way of missionary work that was more of "kicking against the pricks" than helping out the work. I became a part of an underground group of missionaries that didn't really do anything bad, but didn't do anything good. I don't know if this exists in every mission, but it did in mine. On a few occasions, I got word from our mission president that he was called in to clean up the mess that was going on with the missionaries in our mission. There were new rule books that were put into place and freedoms taken away to clean up the mission. Unfortunately, I became a part of the cleaning that needed to happen.
While I feel uneasy about the time that was left wasted in Korea and I worry a bit about those that I did not teach because of my disobedience to the mission rules, I feel like I have been forgiven that time in Korea. About halfway through my mission, I was given a companion that had been out on the coast. I didn't have a history with him and he had no history of me. Elder Palmer was an answer to another prayer. This little thing called "guilt" had really started to settle in on my shoulders. I started to realize all of the wasted time I had had in Korea. I started to feel bad. I was worn out and tired of fighting. I think I was even quite homesick feeling that "if this was all I was going to do in Korea, I could be doing better things as home." I prayed for help and Elder Palmer came at the next transfer of missionaries.
Elder Palmer was a missionary that understood missionary work. He wasn't a pavement pounding proselyter, he wasn't a guy that worked to knock every door in the area in one day either. I had had companions like that, and I think they caused more angst with missionary work than anything. Elder Palmer came from a slower way of life on the coast of Korea. He loved the people there and they loved him. He spent hours and days in their service and the people flocked to him. Elder Palmer knew Korean, not that you have to speak a language fluently to be a good missionary, but his love for the people cause him to put in the effort to learn the language. He caused the Korean's to turn their heads when he was talking on the street because his speech was so fluid and native. People would just talk to him at the wonder of an American speaking such like a Korean - with a coastal dialect for that matter.
Elder Palmer also loved me. He became a big brother that I could tell all my troubles to without worry of him looking down on me. He lifted me up and helped me move past the past that I had in Korea. He helped me repent. I came clean with my mission president. I did everything I could to stop the "underground" things that were going on in our mission. Elder Palmer and I worked too. We worked hard, but smart. We met quite a few people and taught more first discussions than I had ever taught. We even taught a few people beyond and through the discussions. Elder Palmer went home a few months after he came to save me. But, that few months turned me around and got me on my feet for the rest of my mission. It became a time of making up for lost time the first half of my mission. It was filled with disappointment and satisfaction, sadness and happiness, discouragement and learning. But, the whole time instead of knowing what I was doing was wrong, I knew what I was doing was right. I corrected the wrong path and have been going full steam ever since that time.
I've only ever spoken with Elder Palmer once or twice since that time. He was in Utah on vacation with school once and we got together for an hour or two. I'm grateful to a Heavenly Father that knows what we need and sends it when we ask for help at the perfect time. I know that this earth life is part of His plan that He directs. He knows each of us individually and is there for us when we invite Him in.
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