In my first week in Amman, I’ve reflected on a reoccurring
thought: anything is possible with The Lord. The first revelation confirming
this fact came as my group sat at a Yemenis restaurant one of the first nights
we had all arrived.
“Guys, we’re in the Middle East.”
Various responses of ‘yeah’ and ‘whoops’ rang out in
response. But, I don’t think they understood what I was trying to say. I
continued, “Guys, we are in the
Middle East. Like, what can’t we do?”
Traveling across the world is not something trite for me. It
wasn’t something I decided a couple weeks ago. It was a long process that
started in November of last year and included a lot of paperwork, luck,
persistence, and kind people. For someone like me, living abroad was something
I could only daydream about.
God made it a reality.
I struggle with occasional bouts of depression and during my
last episode; my mom gave me some wonderful advice, which was re-suggested by
Elder Uchtdorf a few weeks later during April General Conference. She told me
to be grateful, and record what I was grateful for in my journal. I’ve started
something I call “My 3 Gratitude’s” where every night, I write down the 3
things I was most grateful for that day.
This exercise is truly inspired. Sometimes, you have to take
the time to praise God, and make an actual note of what He’s done for you. If
you’re not careful, you may overlook it. I didn’t think I’d survive exchanging
various currencies. But God put 2 kind men in my path at the Frankfurt airport
who took the time to explain the process to me, as well as help me attach my
adapter to my phone charger so I could get ahold of my parents and let them
know I was alive.
When I first arrived in Jordan, my recently diagnosed
anxiety was through the roof. I had no idea how I would be able to get from one
place to another in a taxi when the little Arabic I had learned over the past 4
months seemed to evaporate into thin air. I felt misplaced and unsure of
myself. I decided to go to the grocery store with a couple of people from my
group and while I was browsing the pasta, a man approached me. We are told to
not be overtly friendly with the men here, as it is against social norm for men
and women to be too social in public. But the man looked at me with the biggest
smile and said, “Where are you from?!” I hesitated for a moment, but felt the
Spirit assure me that it was okay. I responded I was from the United States and
the man practically started shedding tears of joy. He immediately started
conversing with me in English about how much he loved the U.S. and naming off
all the cities he’s gone to. He then started listing all the things I had to do
while I was in Jordan. I can’t explain how I felt speaking to this man, other
than my heart melted. I felt love emanating from him and I felt the similarity
between him and my father’s social habits. Speaking to him reminded me of home,
in the sweetest way. When we finished conversing I said, “tasharafna!” which
roughly translates to ‘nice meeting you’ and he looked me in the eyes, pointed
to himself and said,
“Me more. Me more.”
In that moment, during that time, I needed that interaction
more than anything. God knew it, and He provided it.
This morning we headed to Dabouq for a bike ride. Now, I
know I’m not an athlete, and rumor had it this bike ride was about 15 miles
long and included a lot of big, uphill roads. I thought about this a lot. This
didn’t sound like something that I would enjoy. When talking to my parents last
night they encouraged me to do it. As I arose this morning I wondered what on
earth I was getting myself into. As weird as it sounds, I felt calm because I
prayed about it. I prayed to God to give me the strength to take part in this
physical feat. A little voice in my head reminded me that if I kept eating
multiple bags of chips and cookies every week, it didn’t matter how hard I
prayed; but I maintained my conviction that anything was possible with God.
I wish I could illustrate how difficult the bike ride was
for me. Before we started the woman in charge stated that it was the
“intermediate/advanced” ride and I felt myself die a little inside. There was a
bus that stayed behind the end of the line in case anyone couldn’t do it, to
pick them up and let them ride the rest of the way. The path was long. It was
so, so, so, excruciatingly long. It seemed every time I rode down a large hill,
there were 2 larger uphill treks awaiting me. There were so many times that I
wanted to get on that cursed bus that stayed annoyingly close behind me, but I
refused.
As I continued I saw to the right of me, a body of water and
another section of land that I came to find out were the Dead Sea and
Palestine/Israel. That alone made the body trembling experience worth it, for
me. Seeing with my eyes the land of God. When I finally completed the bike
ride, there was a mountain, Machaerus, that my group decided to go check out. Of course,
after an intensive, multiple-hour long bike ride, the first thing everyone
decided to do was hike a mountain. But as I approached the bottom, a sign read
the description of the location, which was believed to be where John the
Baptist was beheaded. It has been truly unreal to be in the land where so many
of the things we read about in the scriptures occurred.
I’ve fallen in love with this country. It is so rich in
history and so beautiful, in millions of ways. As I sat on the bus heading home
I marveled at His power. I couldn’t help but smile as I looked out the window
to the humble countryside. Nothing is impossible for Him.
He can help me battle 18.2 (!!!) miles of uphill roads.
He can bring the everlasting gospel to the Middle East.
I know without Him I am nothing & with him I can do anything.
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