What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?
This is a toughy...we all have our fair share of trials, struggles, and heartaches. For me 2 things come to mind but I'll choose the most recent one since it's most fresh and feels like the hardest right now; this would have to be being sent home from my mission early.
I was never sure about serving a mission. I was never one of those girls who knew they absolutely wanted to nor one of the girls who knew absolutely that it wasn't for them either. I was always on the fence and when the time for a decision arrived, I struggled greatly and was so overly-concerned that I would choose wrong. At first I decided no, and for a couple months I felt uneasy about it so I went to talk to my bishop and that same night we started my papers. Before I knew it, a month had passed and all my paperwork was done but I still had 3 months until I could actually submit my papers to Salt Lake. The whole time I was still never fully committed but then all of a sudden I had my mission call, I knew where I was going, when I was going, and needed to learn a language. But that piece of paper changed it all for me. My mission was all I could think about, and though terrified as I was, I couldn't wait to get out there and then before I knew it I was in the MTC.
I enjoyed the MTC but the first couple of days was a difficult transition for me. Everyone around me was saying it wasn't hard for them at all (the transition) and in my head I was like, "Are you kidding me?! This is sooo hard!" But as I got accustomed to everything, started understanding some Spanish, I was content and with each passing day couldn't wait to get to New Jersey. But things went south. I don't want to go in to detail on here why I was sent home, so I won't, but the jist is I started getting sick and it just got worse and worse as time went on that leaders were beginning to be concerned.
I was so afraid to be sent home, because I knew, deep down, if I was, I wouldn't return to the mission field, despite how much I would want to, for it wasn't my will to be done. I was informed on Wednesday, September 7, that the MTC Presidency would discuss my case and make a decision about what to do. I found out the next day in the afternoon that I would be sent home and then the following morning I was on the plane to Arizona. It all happened so fast, no way to soften the blow.
I can't explain the hurt, disappointment, and grief that I felt when I came home, especially in those first days. All I wanted to do was cry, and the only thing that would comfort me the slightest was laying my head on my mom's lap with her massaging my head/playing with my hair. I would just cry and she would cry too, but it was comforting. It brought whole new meaning to the counsel, "Mourn with those that mourn." That first day, weekend, week, and month home were the longest of my life. Time still feels slow but It's surprising to see that I've been home now for 8 1/2 months.
It has gotten better, immensely, but it's still hard. I still yearn to be in New Jersey, struggling with Spanish, and a companion, etc. etc. but it would all be worth it. I just know it. I don't cry as much anymore but there still are days when I need my mom's comfort. The hardest thing about it all now is seeing all these people serve missions. I count nearly almost 25 people (friends/acquaintances) that I know personally either on a mission or just about to go, and nearly half of them are girls. I'm incredibly happy for them but every time it's like salt in an open wound. As time goes on, the sting becomes less, but there is no escape from the memory. For the rest of my life, every time the topic of missionary work comes up, when someone receives a call, has a farewell, or homecoming, my mind will revert to my mission and how it was cut short (at least to me, the Lord knew 6 weeks was what I would get). But luckily for me, through Jesus Christ, the sting will not come each time, for my hurt and grief will be swallowed up in the Atonement of Jesus Christ. And that is the best of all :)