Blessings

Room 313 Jacob Hamblin Building, Provo MTC. 
4:46 a.m.

Tufts of snow flock the trees outside our window. I pull the curtains aside to see missionaries 2 stories below wade through the night with their suitcases and backpacks under glistening lights on shiny wet pavement to an airport shuttle. Finally, they will meet the real people that live in the real place that heretofore was a name on their letter from Box B. My mind wades through the emotions of the last few weeks and gratitude fills the quiet morning.

We have visited our children, grandchildren, and parents, and have been treated like royalty in each of their homes.  I tried to memorize each hug, smile, word, and home. We have witnessed miracles with my father's open-heart surgery; he is already home and healing and he gave me a Father's blessing. The January roads have been dry until last night when we were through driving on them and our preparations have been opened before us, even down to the dental appointments and choosing of shoes.  I do not take that for granted.

Yesterday morning we received our room key, our orientation, our MTC map, our schedules, and have met missionaries that are going to every part of the earth.  We've pointed to Cape Verde on a map a few times to those who, like us, are wondering exactly where it is and what it is about.

We received blessings that tuck us into the next two years of our life.  I was blessed with the gift of tongues that will help me with the Portuguese/part Creole/African language that will surround us and help us make new friends. Stan is already fluent and such a patient teacher.  We will have guardian angels assigned to help us and they will be familiar to us and they will bless and help our family as well. I thought of my grandparents.  Jonathan, age 13 1/2, oldest of  our 24 grandchildren, was touched by the words of the blessing and he also said a prayer during the prayer to ask Heavenly Father to assign those angels to protect us.  "It is my duty as a deacon to call on the administering of angels," he told his Momma later.  That made my spirit smile.

We will be protected and will return home safe in two years. Other sentences were said that soothed my soul.

I have to swallow and look away to preserve any chance at dignity, during the song: "Called to Serve".  A tear or three ran down our cheeks as we recalled singing that song many times before.  We are following in our parents' and our children's footsteps, and the many thousands of other missionaries who love the Gospel of Jesus Christ and who want to serve. 

The alarm clock will awaken us soon to our lessons, classes, and thoughts. Though my mind is a bit overwhelmed by the thought of what we are undertaking, my heart is full of peace and gratitude for the many blessings that make this journey possible.