June 09, 2016

Wanderers in a strange land day one

This morning I was reading the Book of Mormon in Alma 13. In verse 23, Alma talks about his people being “wanderers in a strange land”, meaning that they had been cast out of Jerusalem and taken to a different land to make a new home in the wilderness. That phrase reminded me of a couple of sweet experiences that I’ve had.
The first was when we had first arrived in the Dominican Republic in August of 1994. We were getting settled in our new environment, but I was feeling so lost and alone. We looked very different from everyone around us, the Dominican Spanish was difficult for me to understand, the neighborhood was not easy to walk around in. 
One morning I dropped the older children off at school, and took baby Laura for a walk in the stroller at Parque Mirador, a park that runs along side and overlooked the Caribbean.   I was shuffling along, feeling sorry for myself.
(Right? Walking along a greenery-lined path, pushing an adorable baby girl in a stroller,  feeling the sweet ocean breeze and seeing the blue Caribbean in the distance? Such a sad life!)
I began praying, “Heavenly Father, when am I ever going to feel like I belong? When am I ever going to feel like I am home?” And then the Lord whispered to me, through the Holy Ghost, “Everyone is a stranger on earth. You won’t be home until you’re home with Me."
Oh. Ok.

 I learned to love the people on this island. I was called to be Young Women’s president in our ward, and loved my girls so much. In the margin of my scriptures in Alma 13:28-29, I wrote, “Feb. 20, 1995. My prayer for the YW in our ward”:
28: But that ye would humble yourselves before the Lord, and call on his holy name, and awatch and pray continually, that ye may not be btempted above that which ye can bear, and thus be cled by the Holy Spirit, becoming humble, dmeeksubmissive, patient, full of love and all long-suffering;
29 aHaving faith on the Lord; having hope that ye shall receive eternal life; having the blove of God always in your hearts, that ye may be lifted up at the last day and enter into his crest.

 When I said goodbye to these girls in June of 1997, I thought my heart would break. I remember leaving the goodbye gathering, and just sobbing as I was driving along: “Heavenly Father, who is going to take care of these girls?? Who is going to love them like I do??”  Once again, He whispered to me, “I do.” 
Oh. That’s right.

The second experience that comes to mind happened at a youth conference in Kirtland, Ohio. We had gone to the room in the Whitney Store where the School of the Prophets had been held. It’s just a small room,  with a few benches around the walls.
 
But it has been called the first temple of this dispensation, and the Spirit was so present in the room that I didn’t want to leave. In fact, I was the last person to leave the room, and I only left because I was supposed to be chaperoning, and my group was long gone. As I walked down the road to find my group, I found myself feeling VERY homesick!! I thought to myself, “What in the world is going on? I’m not missing my house in Virginia. Most of my family is here at youth conference with me” Then I realized that I was missing my home above; my home with Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother. Sometimes I think that one of the missions of the Holy Ghost is to give us just a glimpse, a tiny spiritual peek, into our home there, to help us remember how we felt.  Anytime that we feel the Spirit, He’s opening that door just a teeny bit: “See! That’s what Home is like!” I wanna go back. Sometime. 



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