Welcome Home

Welcome home are nice words to hear.

I can't believe it's already been almost a week. And I can't believe it's been only a week. I'm at the five days home mark, and definitely one of those "weird" RMs. This afternoon was my first time driving and my first time alone as I went in for my dentist appointment. An anxious experience, let me assure you.

My stomach is still not recovered from whatever number the DR did on it. I wonder when my digestive system will go back to normal. And now that I'm home, all the foods I craved a week ago don't hold the same appeal. Now that it's all so available, I find I don't care about it. Instead of finding all my favorite treats in the grocery store, I searched out the platanos (plantains), yucca, and batata (sweet potato). I settled on a sad-looking platano for an outrageous price, but it will be worth it to eat fritos again!

The flight home was LONG. I cried when the wheels lifted off from DR pavement. I cried when I looked down at my nametag and thought of how soon it would be gone from its usual spot over my heart. I just cried a lot. I didn't know what to do with several hours left when I had already read 13 chapters of the Book of Mormon and caught up in my journal. I was avoiding the tv screen with Spiderman 2 playing, and my neighbors were all avoiding eye contact with me. Sigh. It felt like a long time. And yet, I was a bundle of nerves at seeing my family again. I was so nervous. When I finally made it, (you guessed it) I cried again. My dad grabbed me into a hug which scared me to death. (Dad or not, the first male hug was traumatizing.) My mind was still stuck on the airplane, and my heart still somewhere in Santo Domingo.

But I'm slowly catching up to myself. I keep hitting little milestones. My first time out of the house. My homecoming talk (I spoke about hope.) My first social activity (boating at Bear Lake). Getting my school schedule figured out. Etc.

And so the road to recovery continues. Hopefully every day I'll cry less and less as I find some kind of routine to this crazy post-mission life.

--Sarah Peck

She's Home!!!

Sarah arrived home Wednesday, August 13 from her mission to the Dominican Republic, Santo Domingo West Mission!  Welcome Home, Sarah!

What To Say?

(Note:  Sarah returns home from the Dominican Republic this week and will speak in Sacrament Meeting next Sunday, August 17, 2014.)

I'm sitting in an unfamiliar internet center in an unfamiliar area. I'm in the capitol with Hermana Stewart visiting our old areas, La Yuca and La Venta. Mostly I just feel lost. Emotionally dead and yet raw at the same time. Everything is different than I expected.

Hermana Peck with Bella and her son, Angel

I guess I'll start with my week before life started to change. We taught lessons. We got people to commit to come to church. We had some really spiritual lessons with Bella and invited her to be baptized. She accepted. BUT, her son had a fever Saturday night and she couldn't come Sunday. But we had two investigators come and some inactives that we actually did not believe were actually going to show up. So that was great.

The Hermana conference was one of my favorite days. It was super great.

Hermana Peck and Hermana Conrady

Hermana Stewart, Matteson, Peck, & Hurlburt:  MTC Roomates

Housemates:  Hermanas Peck, Conrady, Caguimbal, Saenz

Hermana Saenz told me that on Friday night I needed to start thinking about what I was taking, and what I was leaving. Hermana Stewart and I planned to come to the capitol early today so I had to be all packed Sunday night. Emotions started churning. I can't really describe what I was feeling. I spent the day yesterday crying. But it is too hard to explain why.

So here I am. I saw Antonio and Iris. Elvis isn't home. I saw Joel and somehow our handshake came back to me. Jaqueline gave me a lasagna empanada as a special gift. It was not my new favorite flavor. (Shout out to Hermana Erickson, todos te mandan saludos)

Well, love to all.
See yáll later.

Hermana Peck

Trying to stay cool!

 

A local colmado (store)

Que Lo Que Tranquila!

The kids in the canal is the Primary activity that they asked us to help with. And all 30 of them in one truck. And then us on top of that. 

Our mountain adventure this morning. Cooking empanadas on top of the highest mountain we could find. Unfortunately, there were flying biting ants that attacked us. Hermana Conrady is trying to protect her head with a bag because they would land on her hair. 

 What I did this week:

washed my hair with a hose this morning,

hiked the tallest mountain we could see (not that tall)

taught the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Ya know, the usual.

This week we saw a quite large miracle. I've always wondered about a part of my setting apart blessing that talks about finding joy in teaching the plan of salvation to families. I hadn't really ever seen the cumplimiento [fulfillment] (I'm sorry, I really can't think of the word in English) of that promise and I wondered why it was there. Heavens, my very favorite to teach is the Restoration. Hands down. 

But this week....it happened. We are teaching Bella, a single mother of 3. The youngest is 1 and has a mental disability, but it's hard to tell how bad yet. We started talking about how God is our loving Heavenly Father and families, you know, your basic first two points. But we switched gears when she said that she'd heard that after this life, we'll have different families we've never met before. Politely, but clearly, I told her that that was definitely not the plan that God has in mind for us. Families are meant to last forever. I promised her that she could always be the mother of her sons. Something changed in her face and she said, "eso si me gusta,"  "I like that." We went on and the next day came back and explained the resurrection and the opportunity to live with our families forever. She really wanted that. We'd already invited her to be baptized and she asked if that was what she needed to do to achieve this. We said yep. She asked if she needed to go to church. We said yep. She promised she would. The sad part of the story is we passed by and she said she couldn't because her hair was bad. (I'll have to explain the Dominican hair process and why that's an actual excuse here some other time).

We taught the parents of a 16-year-old girl, Claudia we've been teaching. It was super great and they were very receptive. 

We're seeing results from the work we're doing with members to get references. We go and teach them the restoration and then ask them to tell us the first 15 people that come to their head that aren't members. Then we ask them for five that they think would listen to the missionaries. Then we commit them to ask them by the time we come back the next week. 

I forgot to mention we got a "bomba" [water pump], so now we sometimes have running water!

I have been so much less stressed this week than I always have been for the last 18 months. I don't know why but I'm not as nervous or stressed. It's been lovely. Although, like always, Sunday was an awful trial. 

You all get a pat on the back for being the least trunky family in the universe. It really has made a world of difference to me that you haven't talked about it, and I am so very grateful.

Why do we wait so long to fully realize how great being a missionary really is?

Is it hard? yes, pero vale la pena? claro que si. [But it is worth the pain, clearly.]

Love, Hermana Peck