When I returned and reunited with my family, I was HOME again. In the arms of my mother and father, I found a peace and a comfort that I hadn't felt in over 18 months. It was pure bliss. They were patient with me, that first week home. The family seemed to dote on me hand and foot and were there to hold me up when the 7 hour time difference hit me like a truck at 4 in the afternoon. My stomach was filled with my favorite home-cooked meals, my dog happened to remember me (miracle), and I was flooded with love from all over social media. I had comfort the first week, you see, everything I needed, wanted, and had missed was simply there! Blessed.
As the weeks went on, the "special attention" from my parents began to dwindle and I soon realized that I was Sydney again. Just Sydney. Not Sister Jones with a badge and the purpose of bringing others unto Christ, but I was just Sydney now. A normal human with a normal purpose. An average Joe. That was sure a wake up call. One morning in particular, I opened my eyes at roughly 6:30am and found myself questioning if I even went on a mission! Did I actually go to Britain for 18 months or was that simply a dream? This is something that I feel most missionaries experience when they return home. All of the sudden you're home and in the blink of an eye the most magical years of your life [thus far] are gone. It's like a hit to the stomach. Coming home is hard mate, but it's also the most beautiful adventure too!
When I had the opportunity to reflect and show gratitude for my mission after being home, I found comfort in knowing that it was time to begin my transition into normal life. At first it was hard to not share the gospel every waking moment. I still said "hello" to everyone I passed in the super market and continued to smile at complete strangers. Thank heavens the Americans are a little more receptive to random hellos than the Brits were! I found it difficult to be in a large group of people who were conversing over a silly subject that didn't actually apply to salvation. Like, what's the point? I found it hard to not be doing something 24/7 with a set schedule and goals to accomplish for the day. Going from being a structured missionary to an "anything goes" 20 year old is a SHOCK.
Even though everyone told me this would be the hardest experience ever, I found that during my first month home, I was richly blessed with the support and love that I needed to transition smoothly.
I had those who would courteously only listen to EFY music with me in their car (lol) and then I had those who, against my will, took me to my first ever college beach party during my first week home. My goodness, talk about a shock. There was skin everywhere! The party was at the lake, so everyone was in their swimming suits, but it might as well have been their birthday suits to my tender eyes! There was loud music and this music was not talking about Jesus! Instead it was Justin Bieber singing "Despacito" and people were going crazy for it. What the heck does decpacito even mean? Does J Bieber even speak Spanish? There were hundreds of college kids that were looking FAR too comfortable with each other. Just as I was about to run and hide myself behind the steering wheel of the car, my sister pulled me into some sort of mosh pit. The drop to the beat was coming and other peoples bodies were touching me. YIKES. Needless to say I was trapped. I was thrown into a bit of college life and it was as uncomfortable as I had imagined! I did survive though, so holla.
When you come home from a mission, you don't receive a packet that tells you about how to transition. You're simply told to continue doing what you're doing, stay busy, and get going on the marriage train! Sounds easy enough right? It's not easy to find time to study the scriptures for 1 hour a day, it's just not. But I feel comfortable knowing that the Lord knows if I've given His words sufficient time that day or not; in reality, I know it too. Truth be told, it's not easy to find your purpose as soon as you get home. It's been difficult for me to understand who I am here in little Rigby, Idaho. I just came home from the most magical 18 months of my life in Britain and now I'm just a small town girl living with her parents, waiting for college to start. Where do I fit in here? Learning how to morph the much more intelligent "mission me" to the small town "normal me" has been interesting. Being able to apply every single lesson that I learned overseas just might be impossible in the first two months of being home and I need to learn to be okay with that. For heck sakes, it'll probably take a lifetime to do so!
In the thick of all the pressure with coming home, I have found that it is indeed okay to be awkward for a while. It's okay to feel a bit odd when I go places by myself, because for the past year and a half I had 14 different best friends by my side 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It's okay to cry when they play Called To Serve in sacrament meeting, because it will always remind me of my second home. It's okay to struggle and it's okay to be open about it too! Struggling alone only makes things harder. If indeed you find yourself in a struggle, find someone you love and snuggle! Snuggling with my mum fixes most of my problems!
➡"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Phil. 4:13)⬅
Cheers till next time,
Sydney
My last Sunday in England.
Reunited with my family! ❤
HOME.
Me trying to figure out what the heck I'm doing here in Rigby, ID.
