The Infamous Instagram Post: The Bittersweet Goodbye

We have all seen the posts, "Not a goodbye, just a see you later" or  the "See you in *insert peace sign here* (2)",  and have all giggled at the over usage and cliche event of this, but you would never begin to imagine the kind of bittersweet emotions that are being held behind every share and hashtag.
Growing up in the area that I live in, seeing people leave everything behind seemed of somewhat normalcy, when in reality, to anyone else in the world, it is actually really, really weird. Like, what the? What kind of religion sends their teenagers during the prime of their life to far off places pledging to devote their best years in service to their religious beliefs? It took up until recently when friends that tended to seem closer than family started leaving to recognize the emotion that takes place at that final goodbye. To me, the sacrifice of a mission was finally real. 
It is no wonder that people struggle with the decision to go on a mission. It. Is. Scary. An unknown place, a different people, an obscure culture... and no cooking or step-by-step advice from Mom; saying hello to the unknown-- it is a huge choice to get the courage to say "Ok Heavenly Father, I am completely reliant on you for the next couple of years (or in my case, 18 months), so tell me what to do!". Although coming to terms with the amount of humility that this requires is seen as one of the hardest things a teenager is asked to do, it is often said as the most rewarding. Not experiencing this yet myself, I have been able to watch it transform  my brother and best friends as they tell me themselves what a difficult, but rewarding thing this is. Now, it might just be me, but hearing the quote "It was the hardest, but best years of my life!" over and over and over again grew old within the first 50 uses, but from what I have heard, that is the only way to describe it. I told Sister Durrans to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing, but the truth about her mission experience and she explained what that saying really meant to her. (Wubz I hope you don't kill me for sharing this, but you ain't here. #LOLZ) This was what she told me in her first email, "Chels this is really hard. No kidding. Its hard to be in provo, and to know that your house is right there. Especially after you teach a lesson and you know you just talked circles with your companion and confused your investigator beyond belief. But Cheeks. Its worth it. Not kidding this is the best thing I have ever experienced. Chelsea I feel happy. It is so amazing to talk to people on a spiritual level and honestly I wouldn't give it up for anything!" 
I guess you don't fully understand until it happens on a personal level to you, whether yourself or through someone you spent 24/7 with. In that first email I knew that everything I had heard about serving a mission was true: it was hard, but worth it. 
After hearing this, my fear dulled, it never left, but dulled as I recognized that not only am I going to be in good hands, but those across the world that I have had to say goodbye to are too. As Whit said, "I think it's harder to be left than to actually leave." Well gee, thanks give me the hard job. It really does seem true, I mean if you think about it, they get to be in as close to a godly state as possible while on Earth and we are stuck back home worrying and wondering what's going on. The tears shed at departure, at least in my case, are slightly selfish.  I worry about how the lack of their presence will affect me, who will I turn to for my needs? Who will I rant to about the latest drama? Or upon the return, will we be the same as when you left? Will we be as close? 
The answers to this may vary, but one thing is for sure. Missions will change a person for the better. They will come across their biggest weaknesses and strengths and find for themselves who they really are and if real friends before, there is no reason for it not to be the same after 18 months. 
My favorite scripture that I have shared about a billion times (or twice, but who's counting) is in Alma 17:13 "... they separated themselves and departed one from another, trusting in the Lord that they should meet again at the close of their harvest; for they supposed that great was the work which they had undertaken." Great is this work that I am about to undertake and multiple friends have already begun. I can't wait to meet back together and talk endlessly about our different stories and the amazing things that we witness while in the field. 

xoxo, 
Chels

 

Investigators Appreciate Pretty Too

First impressions are huge right? That's sort of opposite what they originally tell you in Young Women's, but it appears to be the truth. When an individual is wearing cute attire in bright colors they appear to be more welcoming and less intimidating to talk too. Missionaries already come in pairs and have legit name tags with Jesus Christ's name on them and I don't know about you, but if I had no speck of knowledge about our religion, I would be a little wary to talk to them. In that first impression you really only have that one shot to present yourself in a way that fully portrays who you are and once that moment is gone, *POOF* it's hard to take back. Now I know that you should not base everything on looks and such, but personally speaking, when I look presentable, I feel more confident in myself. I am more outgoing and happy and ready to help others. So wouldn't it make sense to have the same mindset throughout a mission?

Now I'm not saying you have to go all out what with the powder and the mascara and the eyeshadow and blah blah blah, on and on and on so that you end up looking like a picture perfect pageant queen, but I still believe in doing your best to look like a beautiful daughter of God no matter where you are called to, no matter if that means make up or just dressing in a figure friendly way. We are still girls and we are still representatives of Him after all so we should always try and look our best.

My father, a missionary himself a few decades ago, argues with me that the Spirit should be the only bit  of confidence that you need which is in a sense, very true. Now I don't know if this is his way of ensuring that I stay focused on my missionary purpose and from protecting me from any single Peruvians that I happen to bump into, but rest assured that dressing nicely to impress is not my thought process. Having the Holy Ghost with you will undoubtedly give you the confidence to say what you need to say, but, pardon my boldness, looking cute makes women feel great! Most time you'll notice that their efforts aren't for that cute boy next door but really, they dress up for themselves. Not to mention the fact that when you look more presentable, more people are okay with you coming into their homes. Investigators appreciate pretty too! Let's face it, a church of beautiful people is a bit more enticing.

With going to Lima, Peru my outfits will portray more function and comfort than anything else-- but will integrate my style into it because who says that you can't have both? ;) Bringing items that are intermixable are key to make sure that I don't get bored with the limited amount of space that I have. I mean, 18 months with only about a weeks worth of clothes? "You have to be pulling my leg," --Gru, Despicable Me.  Make sure there is an ample amount of varying prints and colors to make for an exciting wardrobe and make it FUN! If you don't love what you bring, you're going to have a really hard time liking it a year down the road. Down below you can see the different looks I can get by just adding a different skirt!  Putting a fun, yet comfortable cheetah sweater with my skirts add a different twist onto the outfit! Goodbye grandma sweaters and hello cheetah power. Rawr.

Feel free to comment on what you think about this! Am I just being a bit too... "Chelsea" about this or are people picking up what I am putting down? Thanks for reading!

xoxo,
Chels

Background Check

Hello to all, or should I say, Hola a todos y bienvenidos a mi blog!
Ok, I am still working on the spanish, so please excuse any of my grammatical/vocab errors. I have not been blessed with the gift of tongues yet as you can probably tell-- BUT I have downloaded the app Duolingo which is a pretty good start right?

I wanted to start a blog for many of the reasons that countless others have started blogs (PS thanks to all who took my original name for my blogspot... no hard feelings, still love you Hermana Adams the first) and whether everyone reads this, or no one reads this, I will be able to look back at it when I have a plethora of wrinkles and too many past stories and remember this huge decision that is sure to change me for the better.

Well, I wish that I could say that my heart had always been set on an LDS mission. I wish I could say that growing up in the church when the song "I Hope They Call Me on a Mission" came on, it rang truth to my little heart. It's not that I have ever thought that the choice of a mission was a bad thing, I just expected my life to go down a different path. I was going to go to college, meet an RM and get married and live happily ever-- cookie cutter, I expected my life to be a sort of Disney Channel original movie LDS style, but man did God have a different plan for me.

The general conference that shook so many individuals and the announcement of a younger missionary age for men and women was huge for our church. The effect was not just one domino, but a mound of dominos all at one time as girls stepped up to the plate and finished their mission papers just weeks after hearing this life changing news. Again, I wish I could say that this had answered some mighty prayer of mine or that when I heard it, everything clicked, but it didn't. I was proud as I saw countless friends leave on missions, but I never believed it was for me. Proclaiming the gospel, knee length skirts... it just wasn't for me.

Almost a year after, I found myself up at the U-- something I also had never planned on. Growing up in Provo, BYU was always the priority and I did everything in my power to make that happen. I got the grades, the ACT score, and the extracurricular activities to make an impressive resume. Sure, I had thoughts of going to the U. I wanted to be different and as most teenagers do, liked the attention that one gets when you aren't the generic stereotype. Even with this in my head, you can imagine the shock as I was declined from admittance and felt my entire world do a 360. My planned housing arrangements, the blue and white hoodies suddenly were replaced with red and black t-shirts as I took a scholarship to the rival school, University of Utah; it was time to break the bubble of Provo and branch out. Good things come in odd packages, my friends. You just have to be patient to wait for your prize and let me tell you, patience=my weakness so I understand the frustration.

Luckily one of my best friends, Whitney Durrans, had a similar experience and that day when Facebook was overloaded with pages upon pages of BYU admittance letters and as the #zoobie term became overused, we stepped into a completely different world than 99% of our peers. Salt Lake City is different than Provo. If you want to escape the Mormon culture, I was told that this was the place to do that. It allowed creativity and innovation and the acceptance of being who you are-- it was were many went to escape the parent's all-seeing eye and it was not uncommon to see individuals reject everything they had once been told to do. It was nicknamed the "Devil's School" and I was told that I needed to watch out or I would become the next excommunicated member. Yes, I see how this could happen what with the crazy parties and the "dry" campus and the sororities and the frats and the drugs and the sex, but let me tell you, when you are finally forced to stand up for what you believe in, you understand just what you are capable of and where your beliefs really stand. The U changed my life in a way that I never thought possible.

Through various personal experiences and the internal prayer to better myself before a certain missionary came home, I realized a few things about myself. For one, I feel the actual urge to share the gospel. I have seen the change. I have felt the difference that happens when those around you have the Holy Ghost. Never before had I had to rely on a testimony. After all, in a completely different city, no one knows if you are breaking your religion rules and the .5% of the student population that knew who you were in high school were a rare occurrence to see. This was both an empowering and yet scary thought. Beyond sticking up for my values, I now looked forward to each Tuesday night when my friends and I would attend a missionary prep class or a Sunday when I knew that I would be among friends that would understand really why I did not "pre-game" or anything of the sort. I felt the difference among happiness between college raves and the truth that this gospel brings and the weird part was that I wanted everyone to know about it! Never had I ever wanted to serve a mission until I was pushed to serve one every day of my life by example and now there is nothing more that I want to do than serve the people of Lima Norte, Peru. I know that they need to hear what I have to say and if nothing else, I need to learn what it is like to be one of God's trusted missionaries. It will make me a stronger person and build the foundation for who I want to become.

Sorry for the lengthy first blog post! Just wanted to get my story out there so you could understand where I am coming from! This is just the first of many posts as I prepare for the hardest, yet best 18 months of my life. It will be anything from favorite moments and scriptures to outfit choices because HOLY CANNOLI I am not going to look frumpy. I cannot. I will not. Slam a door in my face, I will still feel confident. If all goes well this will continue during my mission with weekly updates as my sister (congratulations Cami you have been appointed) puts my experiences on my blog. Feel free to comment or ask any questions!

xoxo,
Chels