I don't exactly know what happened to me in the interim between coming home and the present moment. I am so less confident in my own voice, it frankly surprises me. I was at institute last night, and the teacher asked how many of us have served missions. I raised my hand among others. Then she asked us to declare where we served.
Wham! My throat immediately contracted a lump. As the RMs went around the room, throwing out the names of places like Brazil, Tokyo, Wisconsin, coming ever closer to me, I found myself struggling to even whisper.
I don't know what it was. Perhaps it was because I didn't know everyone else in the room. Perhaps I don't quite feel on the same par as those other RMs. Perhaps I don't match my own expectations for what an RM should feel like. Perhaps I felt less outspoken than the others in the room. Perhaps I was scared of anyone trying to compare missions with me. Perhaps a lot of the brazenness I thought I'd developed in myself was mostly of that increased spirit my setting apart offered me. Whatever it was, I quickly grew frustrated with myself. You will not shortchange the growth you experienced over these past two years by keeping your mouth shut, I thought. Now shut up and open your mouth!
"Jamaica." I managed to say that one word with a strengthened conviction.
Yeah, some people jokingly asked me later, "So was that a mission or a vacation?" I laughed, knowing they couldn't understand. But I puffed up my chest with pride whenever that island nation was named. Yes. Jamaica.
... healing tastes sweet.
One love , one heart let's get together and feel alright #jamaica
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