Six Out of Twenty-four

Six months. Six months that we'll never get to see again. Six months full of life, happiness, struggles, excitement, sadness, prayer, fasting, worry, and love. Six months. Six months of letters being sent from the U.S., only to have responses with pictures of letters from Russia. Six months of "I love you's" being read through emails. Six months full of longing and subtle heartache. Six months of very little, limited communication. Six months of waiting up late on Sunday nights for two hour email "dates". Six whole months. Six out of twenty-four.

Six months, including twenty-six short email sessions, two- five minute phone calls, and one Skype call.

Six months of a devoted missionary serving the Lord and sharing His teachings.

Six months out of twenty-four that will forever be remembered, but, as of right now, certainly not missed.

Six months down, only eighteen to go. Only!

And when I say only eighteen, I don't say it with a bitter tone. With six out of twenty-four completely out of the way, eighteen sounds pretty amazing to missionary families.

Did I ever picture myself being a missionary's girlfriend? Not up until almost a year ago, the day we first met. This time last year, I was completely lost. I was an inactive member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I was freshly out of a relationship that left me fragile and confused; hurt and unsure of everything. The best decision I could have made for myself was to begin attending church once again. It took time. I needed to be there, but didn't necessarily feel like I wanted to be there. I became more and more active, hesitantly. I was given a calling, one in primary. I was given blessings by members holding the priesthood.

I repented, openly, with the branch president, and my Heavenly Father, holding nothing back. I refrained from partaking of the sacrament for a good two months. *Please note: yes, it was something enough to have to hold back on the bread and water, but no, it wasn't something that ruined my salvation. I made mistakes, but I didn't ruin my chances of returning to my Heavenly Father.*

I opened my scriptures for the first time in almost a year. I prayed daily. I fasted monthly.

I began to open up to the idea of a relationship again. I "went through" different guys. Learning more and more what I wanted, what I didn't want. I learned what I truly deserved.

And then I met him. I met the person who treated me the way a person should be treated. He opened up to me, and I to him. I learned to truly love. I learned to gain an understanding of what the Lord had in mind for me. Three (and a half) short months went by, and he was ready to go. He was putting the Lord first, and I couldn't be more grateful to be put second to Him.

Six months, full of whirlwind adventures. Full of understanding. Full of acceptance. Full of peace.
 Did I ever picture myself being a missionary's girlfriend? No. I didn't. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't change a moment, and I couldn't be more proud.

He's pushing through, and it amazes me everyday! I don't know if I could be as strong as he is, and all the other missionaries, for that matter, being in another country. And he got to baptize somebody for the first time out in the field! The pictures were beautiful! And as tempting as it may be to post them, you'll just have to take my word for it. ;)

Six months down, and we'll keep on counting.

With all my love, and eternally yours,

{|K|}