Returning to a mission - Elder Reyes de Leon

Elder Reyes will complete his 2 year mission in just 2 weeks.  His story was recently featured in the Central America Liahona.  It is a courageous story of determination and perseverance. Hopefully I have done a good job in translating!

Returning to my mission 

On August 15, 2015, I was called to serve a full time mission to Mexico City, Southeast Mission.  I will never forget the moment in which I opened my call; the moment was special and totally different from most of the experience of others.

I was born on the 20^th of January, 1994, to a wonderful and great people, my parents.  I come from a family in which every day, while on the Earth, we strive to succeed.  When I was nine years old, I was diagnosed with a disease that would change my life and my family.

After taking many tests and studies to identify the disease, I was told that I needed to have an operation for a tumor that had formed in my head.  When the day of the operation came we relied on Heavenly Father that all would be well.  We had also hoped that the words from the doctors following the surgery would be that there was nothing more and that my recovery would be immediate.

After passing this trial my family and I continued to strive and progress within the Gospel. Years passed and all was going well until I turned 14 years of age. At this age my family and I did not imagine what was to happen to me. Five years after the first surgery a tumor was again growing in my head. No new studies were required.  The doctors already knew what was wrong and another operation was required; only that this time it would be totally different. On this occasion, Dr. Castellanos (doctor who saw my case all my life), knew that my illness had worsened.

I remember that he talked with my parents and with me about what was happening, and he mentioned that treatments of chemotherapy were needed.  I would have to fight this disease for the rest of my life.  Histiocytosis cancer occurs in several ways.  It manifested in my bones, creating tumors.

I did not want chemotherapy at 14 years of age and following my second operation.  However, I started my treatment that lasted for four years.  During those years of chemotherapy, many tests and trials were experienced by my family.

I can only imagine the tests that were endured by my family, but they never passed on the difficult times to me.  Every week I went to the hospital to receive my chemotherapy.  My family always was with me at every moment.  I did feel something special in those moments of difficulties and that something was hope.  I knew hope meant believing that all will be well and that God would comply with His promises.  Hope has the power to fill our lives with happiness, hope sustains us from despair.  This encouraged me to continue through all the tests.

When I turned 18, after having 4 years of chemotherapy, I returned often to the doctor to see how my body had accepted the treatment.

It came the time which had to make the decision to serve a mission or not. I remember that one of the doctors was not in total agreement that I serve a mission. My body was well, thanks to the treatment that I had, the disease had stopped and there was nothing more. It was incredible knowing that all was well, and that I could do the things I’d like to. On one occasion when I was talking to Bishop of the ward where I attended, he mentioned serving a mission. I remember that the Bishop asked me if I wanted to serve a mission, and I said yes, I was willing to serve.

I started filling out my paperwork and be ready to serve a mission. My papers were sent to Salt Lake City. We waited for the letter to return with my assignment. With the letter in my hands, it was time to know where I was going to serve.  I opened it at the time we selected and it was special. My grandmother was sick with cancer and about to leave this earth. I remember that we gathered around her as she was in bed being unable to speak. She wanted to know where I was going; so I opened my call and read it. I felt something special in my heart as I read that I would in Mexico, and felt a great love for the country.

I passed the time preparing to serve as a missionary, reading my Scriptures, praying to the Heavenly Father, and attended the missionary preparation classes that helped to increase my faith in Jesus Christ daily.

Finally the day came to go on my mission and I was excited, happy and nervous about doing something that my family and I had been waiting for a long time, serving a full time mission.  I started my mission on August 15, 2012 and it was so special and unique that I will never forget how my testimony began to grow as I served the Lord with all my heart, mind and strength.

I loved seeing how the Gospel of Jesus Christ changed the life of the people. I knew that time was something special and I had to forget myself and give myself entirely to the Lord's work. Having served nine months in the mission, without knowing what would happen, once again there appeared a small ball of dough in my arm elbow. The doctors said that it was a tumor and had to return home to recover. I returned to a sad home and was desperate to know what I had, the doctor saw me again and started blood tests and other studies. With the results in the hands of the doctor, he told me: "you have nothing!"

I remember that my mother and one of my sisters were with me at the time, and the two turned to me as my eyes filled with tears to know that I had returned from the mission without being ill. After spending time at home, I started to study at the University. I was often thinking that the mission time that was not over.  The leaders of the Church told me that I had done my part to serve and that it was not necessary to return, and that I had been returned with honor. Eventually, they called me as a teacher of future missionaries of stake and when this happened I felt happy for the mission release I’d received, happy for the desire to help others with my mission, and that the mission was a success. However, something inside of me still wanted to help in Mexico, and the desire to return was in me. My uncle shared his experience when from his mission. I thought so much of my mission.  I decided to go back.

I went to the Stake President and shared with him that I wanted to return. He helped me a lot and we started to prepare my papers to return. Two years passed and I remained at home waiting for an answer to see if someday I could return or not. In those two years, we tried three times and never got a response. I decided that I had to do something and started to work, prepare, and focus more on my gospel study.

Finally it happened and my father received a call that I could return to complete my mission. In June 2015, a Friday, they called me from the offices of the Church, and they told me that I could now return to the mission and gave me a date for leaving. The date of departure was the Monday of the following week. I couldn't believe it. I thanked God for giving me this great opportunity to return. That weekend was one that I will not forget. I had to prepare myself to go back to complete my mission. My family and I were so happy.

At this moment I am in the Mexico City, Southeast Mission, culminating my mission. Four months before finishing, I have grown to understand that God and our Lord Jesus Christ are always on our side and that they know the desires of our heart. I know that Jesus Christ lives and that He came to this earth to die for every one of us. I testify that God has created this wonderful Plan of happiness for His children, and that the tests that we endure in life cannot be compared with the test Jesus Christ faced on this earth. And that in this moment Jesus Christ guides the steps of both my companion and me.

I testify that the Church of Jesus Christ is true, that the Book of Mormon is true and Joseph Smith was the perfect instrument by which this beautiful and wonderful Gospel was restored.

As a representative of Jesus Christ I know that God blesses us when we are faithful and obedient to all that is demanded, and that He is always with us wherever we go. All in the life is based on our Heavenly Father, and God blesses us for our obedience. I Testify of these things, testify of God the Father, of his son Jesus Christ and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Everything has value

June 18, 2016

There is a noticeable difference between Elders returning to North America and those returning to Central and South America.  Of course I am talking in generalities but almost without exception, I see the following.

Elders returning to North America take very few of their clothes and shoes home.  It can be compared to a woman who has just given birth.  A pregnant woman is so tired of her clothes that once the baby is born, she is happy to wear something different.  North Americans take home their favorite ties and socks, but most of the rest stays behind including their underwear.

Those returning to Central and South America show much greater respect for their worn out clothes.  They find value in all things and find it very hard to get their bags down to the “acceptable” weight for the airlines.  I see broken toys, crepe paper from birthday parties, books, and worn out shoes returning home.

We recently sent an Elder home to the Dominican Republic.  First we replaced his luggage because it had not survived the 2 years of service here.  We told him of the weight restrictions and stressed that his bags could not be even a pound more.  When we picked him up to go to the airport, his shave kit was attached to his belt.  We arrived at the airport and of course his bags were overweight – but he was prepared.  He pulled bags out of his pocket and moved items over into them.  He started to attach each bag to his backpack or belt.  We took him to security and laughed as he walked away with bags tied in many places.  He was leaving nothing behind!

North Americans live in a “throw away” country.  That is not that way in other places!

The ability to look on the heart

June 15, 2016

We receive notice of missionaries who will be joining us by email.  We receive a copy of their missionary application and their name suddenly shows up on our missionary software.  We are notified of missionaries coming from Mexico as long as 4 months ahead, and sometimes just weeks before they arrive.  We are often given a five month alert on missionaries coming from foreign countries due to strict Visa requirements.  Yesterday I received notice of 2 new Elders who will join us.  Both were of the same ethnicity but from two different countries.  The comparison of the two left me uneasy.  It was a stark reminder of the different opportunities that are open to some, and not to others.

Elder M. is graduating from high school probably about right now.  He has done extremely well in school and earned an Associate’s degree along with his high school diploma in the past few years.  His parents are both members of the church. He is an Eagle Scout, a clarinet player, and his sister is also currently serving a mission in Mexico.  With 4 years study of Spanish with grades of “A”, he will probably pick up the language quickly.

Elder H. is 20 and joined the church when he was 18.  His parents disowned him because of that decision so he lives alone.  With only an elementary level education, where he rates his accomplishment level as “not very good,” he has supported himself as a cook for the past 4 years.  His home ward will help him purchase the necessary clothing items, and also be the ones to kiss him good bye. 

Both Elder M. and Elder H. are highly recommended by their local leaders.  Both have the chance to excel here and deepen their own convictions.  Each will approach this assignment from their own perspective and face discouragement and challenges differently.   Hopefully Keith and I can help guide each to success.  I do know one thing for sure – Heavenly Father loves each of them more than can be imagined and will bless them both for their dedicated service.  He has the ability to look on the heart and not on the circumstances.

Sara's perspective on Max with autism.

Lenore was going to give a lesson on motherhood.  Sara, our second daughter, has Max, a son with autism.  Lenore asked Sara her perspective on the experience. Sara writes so well and I thought others may enjoy!

"Did you know that a front-loading 4.5 Cubic-foot LG washing machine has a maximum speed of 1300 rotations per minute and is available in red, white, and graphite steel? I did.

Did you know that a Boeing 747 has four wing-mounted engines and eighteen wheels? I knew that too.

I wouldn’t have known it a few years ago, though. My 10-year-old son, Max, has recently become a master of all things regarding washing machines, airplanes, and elevators, filling his mind with any and every piece of information that he can get his hands on. He is a walking encyclopedia. And he has autism.

Max was diagnosed a few months shy of his second birthday. Having graduated with a bachelor’s degree in human development, my “spidey senses” were tingling six months prior to that. But there was something about getting the official diagnosis; it triggered a reaction in me that I wasn’t quite prepared for.

I ugly-cried. A lot. I sobbed until I shook. And when I thought I was done, the tears would start again. My husband and I found ourselves mourning the loss of our son’s life as we had pictured it would be. It is okay to feel that way. As I speak with mothers whose children have a new diagnosis, I actually encourage it. You have to go through the grieving process before you can get back to living. And that’s when you put down your plan, pick up God’s, and grab the hand of that little child who still has so much love to give. What I didn’t anticipate was how much I would learn from Max.

Max is always 100% authentic. He embraces life with reckless abandon, completely oblivious of society’s opinion. And he is so very happy because of it. One particular Sunday he came to church wearing a headlamp and six watches on each arm. Another Sunday he yelled “Amen!” in the middle of a prayer that he believed had gone on too long. And after a beautiful musical number had been shared during Sacrament Meeting, he stood up, clapped, and yelled, “That was great!” How much time do we waste worrying about what other people think? Now I’m not suggesting that we all start wearing headlamps to church and interrupting prayers, but there is freedom in living without inhibition due to the fear of criticism from others.

The most important life lesson that Max has taught me is to trust. We were all part of that special council in heaven who chose to come down to earth. We sustained Heavenly Father’s plan and made the decision to follow Jesus Christ. What would your premortal self say to you? In times of struggle, I imagine my premortal self saying something like this: “Hey – you signed up for this. You know the beauty of this plan. Have faith in Heavenly Father. Trust in Jesus Christ. You know them, remember? Trust that they will help you do the hard things.” One of the most difficult aspects of motherhood is feeling like you aren’t doing it right. Guilt is a brilliant little tool that Satan uses to make wonderful mothers feel like they don’t measure up, like they aren’t doing enough. Don’t listen to those voices. Focus on your relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ; listen to that wonderful still small voice who works as the instrument to communicate their guidance. Trust in that.

And guess what – the trust goes both ways. The first few years following Max’s diagnosis were very difficult for me. The frustration that Max experienced not being able to communicate came out in explosive tantrums and meltdowns. On top of that, a surprise pregnancy two weeks after his initial diagnosis brought along a little girl who mimicked everything that her brother did. When I introduced them to people I would say, “This is my son with autism. This is my autistic daughter who does not have autism.” At the end of a particularly difficult week I sat in the temple with tears streaming down my face and a very heavy heart. I felt completely paralyzed in my life and didn’t know what to do. And then the relief came. I heard a voice in my head call me by name and say, “Sara, don’t you know that I trust you?” It caught me completely off-guard. As I sat there, trying to process what had just happened, the clarity came. Yes, it’s going to be difficult. Yes, there will be a lot of tears. But God trusts in my ability to do it.

As mothers, it is vital that we constantly remind ourselves that Heavenly Father trusts us to raise His children. Let me say that in a different way. The Almighty creator of heaven and earth, the all-powerful and all-knowing God, trusts you with His children. He is vouching for you. He is pulling for you. And He is there to give you all the help you need. Nurture that relationship. Jeffrey R. Holland said, “Sanctify yourselves. For tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.” He wants to bless you. He trusts you. And he loves you.

In the Doctrine and Covenants we have been promised that our minds and bodies will be restored to a perfect state. This scripture takes on new meaning to those of us who have children with special needs. I look forward to the day when I see Max after our time here on earth is complete. I am excited to fully remember him from the preexistence and embrace him again, knowing that we did it together. But more than anything I want to thank him for the gift of being his mother. "

Got to love Elder Blackham!

From Elder Blackham in one of his letters: 

I do have one quick question.  Is it cooler to be a missionary or mission president because I think it´s pretty sweet to be a missionary and can´t imagine anything else cooler then this! 

Once in a lifetime experience?

May 17, 2016

I have been a very sick girl.  A small injury on my shin slowly turned into a massive infection that became septic.  For 10 days in the hospital, the doctors worked to strengthen me so that I could survive.  Both my lungs and heart were compromised and I now have a quarter size hole in my leg that needs to heal.  That’s enough said about that!

I now am recovering at home and reflecting on what the experience was all about.  We have lived in Mexico for almost 23 months.  It has been an experience that can’t be told with just words.  It is the greatest, and the hardest.  As I lay in the hospital I realized that I just may have the choice of going back to California 13 months early.  I was sick enough to request that…… but I didn’t.  Keith and I talked and we came to realize that we really didn’t want to go home early.  Do we miss our town, our children, and our grandchildren?  Absolutely.  Do we want to stay and finish what we are doing here?  Absolutely.  I think that perspective change will carry me for a long time.

As news spread of my sickness, Keith and I were amazed at what a presence social media has become!  It was not just my family praying for me, it was past missionaries, parents of missionaries, websites dedicated to missionary moms and past school buddies.  Friends of my children knew what was going on everywhere from North Carolina to Texas to Washington, and California.  My son’s boss joined in the prayers as did coworkers.  Quickly many temples and families knew my name.  That is a humbling experience!  What faith so many have.

Because I am the “wife” of a mission president, word went to Salt Lake City quickly also.  Doctors from Salt Lake called and monitored my progress.  A cardiologist from the states but now serving in South America is still checking.  Our area medical authority, Dr. Heder, came to the hospital several times.  My name was added to the Quorum of the Twelve’s prayer roll. (I didn’t even know they had one.)

As I lay there so sick, I sometimes wondered what all the fuss was about.  Poor Keith slept on the room’s couch for 7 nights.  I never saw him cry but knew he was when he wasn’t by me.  My children were in close contact and I just hoped it wasn’t being too hard on them.

It is hard to sum it all up.  I can say that I’m glad to be alive.  I’m glad to still be in Mexico.  I know there is a God who lives and loves us dearly.  I have been deeply touched by the generosity of so many – so many who could not be by my bedside, but could turn to a God they loved, and ask for a special blessing for me. 

I don’t think I want to go through that again.  Wonder if that can be my “once in a lifetime” experience?

The hand of God

April 23, 2016

We often feel the hand of God in our life.  This calling would be impossible without it.  That truth was reaffirmed last night.

Keith put his phone on the nightstand next to the bed.  Although it was on “vibrate”, it will usually wake me up.  Last night it didn’t.  It is always heart wrenching when you awake and see 32 calls from the same number during the night.  With dread you call and find out what emergency happened while you were sleeping.  Last night the calls were from Revolution.  Revolution is in Los Reyes and some distance away.  Sometimes it takes 2 hours to drive there, totally depending on traffic.

Elder C. is allergic to penicillin.  He knows that.  When he went to the clinic for antibiotics, they were informed of that.  However his reaction came from a different strain of medicine last night.  As soon as he started to experience difficulty breathing, the four Elders called us with no reply.  However, they didn’t stop there, prayers were offered.  Elder C. was alert enough to take Benadryl and call for an ambulance.  It probably saved his life.

How thankful we are this morning for a loving Heavenly Father and his son Jesus Christ, who could help when we couldn’t.