I've drafted this no fewer than 15 times, trying to find the word to describe how I feel, what's been going on and where things in life have taken me. And as always, the words are never quite enough.
Obviously, I'm home from the mission. Some days, I feel okay, most days, I feel like I've grieving over the death of someone I love. It's a bizarre feeling. Though, I'm happy to say that through Christ's enabling power, lots of prayer and many tears, I'm feeling less like a failure every day. Missions begin and missions end. Mine ended, albeit, earlier than I would have preferred.
At first, I felt like I was the scum of the earth. I failed my mission. Can't I get anything right? Whew, that Satan is good. He knows how to kick you when you're down. I immediately disregarded all that I was able to do. The lessons I helped teach. The children of God I was able to influence, and mostly, those who influenced me.