5 YEARS!!!

This picture was taken towards the end of my mission.

It reads, "End of work".

Can it really be???... well according to my calendar, yup, it's really been 5 years since I finished my mission*. It hardly seems possible that it's been so long; consider the fact that I still dream usually once a week about Portugal and the streets there that I walked along with my companions; some of my memories there are still so fresh in my mind, it's as if they just happened yesterday. Until a year or two ago, I used to dream more frequently about my mission, but most of my memories from the time I spent there have either escaped me or they are slowly fading away as time passes on.

A lot has happened in the 5 years I've been home. I've lost friends and I've made NEW ones. I came home to find a lot of friends married and no longer single; even some of the guys I dated or "liked" before my mission were "off the market", either engaged or married. There was a brief moment after my homecoming in which I struggled with these realities- it had felt almost as if the rest of the world had passed me by while my life hadn't changed a bit; I was completely wrong of course; of all my friends, I had been the one who had made the most changes in my life during my time away; Portugal had changed me.

I can't seem to forget this image. Portugal is so BEAUTIFUL!
It has so much old world charm. This is just a glimpse of it's beauty; the river seperating Porto from Gaia.

It didn't take long before I started to "find my place" again amongst friends and the dating scene... It also wasn't long before I was ready to start traveling again - (I'm NEVER content staying in the same place for very long) 3 weeks after I was released, I flew up to Rexburg, Idaho to visit friends from college for a week and reconnect with my old "beau" I hadn't seen for 3 years (he was still on his mission when I began my own); we kissed and cuddled but otherwise didn't do much connecting... after only a couple of days of seeing each other it became evident to me that this "Mr. Right" wasn't my "Mr. Right". We had both grown to want different things in life neither of us had realized before. We decided (correction, I decided, and he later realized after I announced I was going to marry Spencer) we needed to go our own ways.

3 months after I set off down my own path, love found me and I met my Spencer (it's a long story of how we met- if you care to know, click here). 2 weeks after we met, we were engaged, and exactly 6 months after our engagement, we were married! It's been 5 years since I've been home from my mission, and for a little more than 4 of those years I've been married and I already have 3 boys! Life has taken me along on quite a JOURNEY!

Speaking of JOURNEYS, it sounds so cliche, since it seems nearly EVERY sister missionary says it, but I NEVER WANTED TO SERVE A MISSION! If someone had told me December 2001 that 6 months later I'd had been a sister missionary, I would have probably LAUGHED... I was the little kid in Primary who refused to sing "I hope they call me on mission" during singing time because I thought it was the church's way of brainwashing us children and coercing us into serving missions later on in the future. Most of my friends (guy friends particularly; guys in fact who had already served missions for the church) couldn't believe I was going to serve; they thought I was joking; I suppose maybe they thought so because I was just crazy Steph to them; I cared more about having fun than abiding by rules. I didn't look like a Sister Missionary, I didn't dress the part of a sister missionary and I certainly didn't always behave like a sister missionary. When I told most of them I was sending in my mission papers, they said, "I'll believe it when I see it." I completed and sent my mission papers in the 3rd week of January, hoping it would be enough to convince my friends I was "for real" about the whole mission thing but still none believed me; their response was only the same. I expected my friends to believe me when I got my mission call in February, (same evening as the opening ceremonies to the Salt Lake Winter Olympics) but their response was still similar- "I'll believe it when you leave for the MTC".... well..., on May 8Th 2002 when I entered the MTC, a lot of my friends still wouldn't and couldn't imagine me serving a mission, so they all said, "I'll believe it when you're in Portugal." 6 weeks later in July, I left the MTC in Provo, Utah and flew to PORTO, PORTUGAL where my real adventure began. It must had been a shock to my friends because a few of their first lines in letters they wrote me read as follows:

"I still can't believe you're actually a Sister missionary Steph!".

Life has taken me along some interesting and exciting journeys- my mission was certainly one of those.

My mission was cut short on September 11Th, 2003 (precisely 5 weeks early; my original release and homecoming date wasn't supposed to be until October 16Th) after becoming incredibly sick and going into shock with anaphalixis a week earlier; (over the time while I was on my mission in Portugal my body built up an intolerance to gluten, so severe that if I ate something that had wheat/flour in it, in this instance, a meal at a members house that had some sort of meat made with bread crumbs, I'd get sick, very sick! It presented a challenge for me any time I needed to eat because most of the food I ate didn't have food ingredient labels on them- I don't think the FDA exists in Portugal. I was always guessing for myself whether food had wheat or flour in it- it was a game of roulette). I needed proper medical care and lets face it, Portugal just didn't have it; pharmacies there didn't even have epinephrine pens! My mission president, with the encouragement from church officials back at church headquarters in Salt Lake, asked me to end my mission early knowing that there was the possibility that I'd get sick again suffering far greater consequences. I was bummed I wouldn't be ending my mission as I had planned for all along, but I felt peaceful about my decision to follow my leaders request and return home. My work was done.

I had 1 day to do some shopping, take pictures, pack my bags, clean house, and say "goodbye" to the friends I had made in Portugal (did I mention that since I was leaving, my mission president decided to close our area in Gaia and reassign my companion to serve with another set of sisters in Porto; I could be wrong, but I'm not even sure he reopened it immediately to the elders- I think it may have been some time before he reassigned any missionary to that area).

September 11Th is only significant to most people because of what we remember happening on that day in 2001: Al Qaeda terrorists attacked our two world trade centers in New York City and the Pentagon in our nations capital. However, the 11Th reminds me not only of that moment in our nations history but reminds of the day, two years later, when in 2003, I completed my errand in Portugal serving my Heavenly Fathers children. My call was over; I'd been released. After wearing my missionary badge just above my heart for little longer than 16 months I was asked to remove it.

(Just as a side note, the Portuguese NEVER once pronounced my last name correctly;
the smart ones never embarrassed themselves by trying to say it. Most people just called me
"Sister" and some even called me "Elder" not knowing that's the name we use for the
men in the church. Some of my companions preferred to call my "Truesy".)

I think every return missionary would agree to say this moment was "bitter sweet". (NOTE: Church headquarters offered to fly me home the evening of the 10Th because they were concerned I might be too nervous to fly on a transcontinental flight the day of the 11Th- ultimately I chose to fly on the 11Th because I wanted more time to say my goodbyes).

I was terrible about recording any of my mission experiences in a mission journal; this is something I regret now because I'm beginning to forget my experiences in Portugal and the people whom I had met there. There were MANY hardships of course that I had to endure, but ultimately there were more exciting times on my mission than those that were bad- times when I couldn't quit grinning from ear to ear because I was rejoicing in the work! Looking back upon my mission now I regret the times I had wasted- either by laziness or worrying over my relationships with boyfriends and college friends- sometimes I was even worried too much about my future; if only I had known how the Lord would provide for me and bless me, later on, after my mission, despite not necessarily deserving all his blessings he has bestowed upon me.

I had a FABULOUS time serving the people of Portugal. I am GRATEFUL for the memories I made there and have been able to hold dear to my heart all this time since.

* Disclaimer: I began writing this post September 10Th, with intent to post it the following day on September 11Th, however I never finished writing the post in time because I became distracted. Now over a month later, I've finished it. I thought I would still post these thoughts and pictures because some of my friends and family members might enjoy reading them and my blog is my journal.

Most of my family was at the airport to greet me, (I'm not sure where Celeste and her family was) along with a couple of friends (not pictured here). You can't see it in this picture, but since it was the 11TH, I decided to wear an American Flag pinned across one side of my scripture bag. I loved the time I had spent in Portugal, but I was thrilled to be back home on American turf!

I was the " traveling Sister" in the mission. While the majority of the other Sisters
in my mission served in the same areas for 6,7, sometimes 8 or 9 months, the longest I ever stayed in an area was 4 months (that was Viseu). I had the opportunity to serve with A LOT of AMAZING Sisters in my mission and see a lot of CHARMING cities through out my mission.

Sister Livingstone fr. Provo, UT (left) and Sister Smith fr. Sandy, UT(right)- my companions in the MTC.
We served together fr. May 2002- July 2002.

A lot of missionaries will complain and say they HATED the MTC;
I however, ABSOLUTELY LOVED my experience there!
My companions and I had a lot of fun; sometimes too much fun. Anyone remember when in Devotional on a Tuesday they asked the missionaries over the microphone not to lay out and sunbathe on the grass any longer???
That request was directed at us- we liked to catch some sun during breaks between class- of course we did so modestly and not in bathing suits.

This is Sister Duke. She was my Trainer and companion in Vila do Conde- a beautiful little beach town resort. Duke was from Gunderson, UT. We had a third companion, Sister Rodriguez, at the start of my mission,
but she was sent home3 or 4 weeks after I arrived.
Duke and I were companions from July 2002 through August 2002;
I was her last companion before she finished her mission.
This was the 1ST family I taught on my mission; I taught them the first night I arrived in the mission field. They lived in Minelo? a small town south of Vila do Conde. It was a family of mother (Leticia? or Patricia?, sadly I can't think of her name right now), husband (Jose) and 16 year old daughter, Vanessa, and they also had a little boy, maybe 2 or 3 years old. The parents wanted to be baptized but never were while I was there, they weren't legally married. I hope someday, if not already, the gospel will be a part of their lives.

This is Sister Teeters fr. WA. state; we served together in Vila do Conde and we opened Guimaraes. We were companions for abt. 8 weeks, fr. the end of August 2002 till mid October 2002.
Teeters was transferred to our mission after her mission, the Lisbon North mission dissolved. Did I mention my actual mission call was to the Lisbon North mission too, but about a month after I received my call it was dissolved, so I was called to serve in the Lisbon mission, but it changed the last week while I was in the MTC and I was reassigned again to the Porto mission.

Myself, Livingstone, and Teeters caught on camera together at a Zone conference in Porto. Teeters had served with Livingstone before becoming my companion. As you may notice in the picture, Teeters and I were wearing practically the same tweed skirt, only in different colors; we also had on the same pair of boots. We LOVED shopping together on our P-days and PORTUGAL is a FAB place to shop!

Sister Ferria (right of me, sipping tea) & Sister Fatima(far right) were my companions in Porto;
in a district called Nas Antas.
Both Sisters were originally fr. Angola, Africa but Ferria had been living in Holland prior to her mission and
Sister Fatima was living in Lisbon. I served with these sisters from mid-October 2002 till Dec. 24, 2002
(Sister Ferria left our companionship in November).
Sister Collins was my mission companion in Braga. She was fr. Vacaville, CA.; she and I were in the MTC at the same time as one another, only she was in a different district.
I became her companion on the evening of Dec. 24TH, 2002 and we were companions until
the first week in March 2003.
(Yes, I got bored and dyed my hair black on the mission; surprisingly a lot of Portuguese didn't think I was American after that; they assumed I was Spanish or Brazilian- go figure?!)
Sister Peao fr. Lisbon, Portugal was my companion for two weeks in Braga; during the month of March.
Sister Shepherd (sorry Krystal I probably just spelled both your first and your last name incorrectly) fr. Kirkland,WA
was my companion in Viseu fr. the end of March until May 2003 or maybe it was until the first of June. Shepherd was much, much taller than me; I believe she was 6 feet, or maybe even 6' 1".
(The guys in this picture below were the Elders in our district).

In April 2003, my companion Sister Shepherd and I decided to get together with another set of sisters
on a P-day in Porto, in celebration of Shepherds birthday.
We met up with Sister Donaldson and Sister Collins.
We were walking in the busy shopping district along a street called Rua Santa Catarina
when we spotted a guy wearing a green kilt.
We figured he was a tourist who spoke English and so we thought we'd see what it was that brought him to Portugal
(it was always very rare to see anyone we thought might be American or Anglo-saxon).
It turns out he was visiting Porto to watch and support his country's soccer team- Scotland.
We wanted a picture with the man wearing his kilt, so we politely asked and he agreed.
He had us walk over in front of a cafe where a couple more of his friends were sitting having a beer-
he insisted that they all get in the picture with us.
"Well, okay" we thought- sure they were drinking a beer- but who wasn't drinking in Portugal-
the people there drink wine like it's water!
Anyhow, they started singing some Gaelic Scottish soccer fan song while we were trying to have the picture taken, and apparently some homeless man thought he'd jump in our picture too,
(he's the man sitting on the curb with the toothless grin)
and soon enough our simple picture turned CHAOTIC!
One of the Scottish men tossed his soccer hat on top of Sister Collins head- as if she were a fan herself;
the man in the kilt was slightly drunk and trying to get just a little too close to Sister Donaldson for comfort,
(hugs are NOT allowable)
and neither Sister Shepherd or I could controll our laughter!
Too make matters worse- the Portuguese on lookers didn't appreciate the Scottish Fans chants
so there began a brawl- or maybe it was more like a riot.
Either way, it involved police and us sisters didn't want anything to do with the police of course
so we slithered our way out from the crowd.
WHEW- it was a close encounter with the LAW but we by no means meant to do any harm,
we just wanted an innocent picture with the man in the kilt.
Next time I suppose we should use better judgement and not cross paths with soccer fans!
Sister Livingstone was my companion, once again, while I served in Viseu; we served together from June 2003 till the first week or so of August 2003. Obviously I was thrilled to serve with her again and we had so much fun together. Did I mention she was so cool, she encouraged me to buy a baby duckling! We named the duck Petey O'Pato. He didn't live with us for very long though- only a day in fact. He kept pooping all over our apartment, and his "QUACKS" were too loud. We found him a home in a pond at an old folks home.
The nuns there told us we could come back and visit him any time we wanted to,
but about a week later when we did, he wasn't there- maybe he got lucky and flew away???
(this picture is of the two of us being silly showing off our fake muscels).
This is another picture of me with Livingstone; the guy on the far right is our friend Hugo. He lived in Viseu but really was from Brazil. He was super cool and always fun to hang out with. He was also a BIG help when we needed someone to accompany us during discussions with investigators.
The following picture is of me, Livingstone and Marcia.
Marcia was about our age and she had moved to Portugal from Brazil.
She offered us TONS of help when we needed a member to accompany us during visits with investigators.
Some of the best friends I've EVER made in my life were people and members I had met during my mission in Portugal. Marcia was one of those people. I wish knew where she was now.
This picture was taken in a little town called Mangualde, outside of Viseu. I love this picture because of all the
hydrangea flowers behind me. Hydrangeas are my favorite flowers, second to tulips. Hydrangeas grow wild through out Portugal and they come in every color imaginable, depending on the acid levels in the soil.
Viseu is a college town, and a lot of the residents there are very pro active about politics. I arrived in Viseu just after the U.S decided to invade Afghanistan. President Bush rallied for the support of Portugal's president that month during a visit to the Azores and won it, despite a lot of Portuguese citizens thinking it was an awful mistake.
There were hundreds of anti-war posters plastered all over the city's walls- this was just one of them. Clearly a lot of people in Portugal just thought Bush was a bully and had no reason to go to war; I doubt the people there understood just how the events of September 11TH, 2001 hurt our country.
(The sign says" All of us against the war!";
across the picture of President Bush meeting with Portugal's president it says, "Embarassing").
From August 2003 till the first week in September I served with Sister Jackson, fr. Tennessee.
We served together in Gaia.
(oh, just as a note, that is NOT our car. Neither Sisters nor Elders in our mission had cars to drive or bikes to ride. I'm not exagerating but SERIOUSLY, we walked miles and miles each and every day to get to and from our appointments. Thankfully, our mission president allowed us to wear sandals, otherwise I'm not sure I would have survived walking in heels everyday).
Additional note: I'd give anything to have my body back to how it was 5 years ago; sem stretch marks and my muffin top,if you know what I mean.
Oh how motherhood has left it's mark on me!
I taught ALL sorts of people the gospel while I lived in Portugal.
I taught students, professors, old people- some even 90 years old!... young familys, people who were wealthy and many who weren't; of all the people I taught though, my favorite people to teach the gospel to were children. Portugal is 99.9% Catholic. The influence of the Catholic church is undeniably STRONG through out Portugal and it's culture. Many Catholics are taught to fear God, so imagine how a childs eyes lit up when we taught them in the first discussion that we were created in God's image; that he is our Father in Heaven and that
we are his children whom he loves. I met A LOT of children during my mission- these are two, a brother and a sister, I met with Sister Jackson one day while walking along the streets down near the river; if I remember right, the parents were always too busy or never around for us to teach them as a family, but after a few failed attempts, we decided to informally teach the two kids
and gave them their own copy of the Book of Mormon. They were incredibly greatful. Their family had very little money and they lived in very humble conditions. We asked them to read a few chapters we selected for once we left, and to our surprise the children did.
Often times even though a person would read the portion of the B.O.M. we asked them to read, they still had difficulty understanding what they just read; not these children though- they completely understood it! We later found out the children were the neice and nephew of a inactive gal in church we'd been visiting trying to fellowship and activate again.
The childrens grandmother was also a member of the church but she too had fallen inactive. We never did get to speak with the childrens parents; I'm afraid the parents neglected the children a lot;
and we never got to take the children to church with us, but hopefully one day, as our Heavenly Father would have planned, these children could be found and taught the gospel again and
maybe they will be baptized.
Possibly their parents will even listen to and accept the gospel and maybe their aunt and their grandmother will go back to church; maybe somehow, through the gospel and our Heavenly Fathers plan he has for them,
this family can be blessed and be an ETERNAL FAMILY some day.
This is probably one of my two favorite pictures from my mission. I'm driving a toy remote controlled car down a cobblestone street. Sister Jackson and I were walking down near the streets that led to the riverbank when we heard a bunch of little boys calling our attention, only they were calling us "Elders". They recognized that we were missionaries, but had never met Sisters and only knew that the
American missionaries were called "Elders". At first it seemed like the gang of young boys only wanted to pester us; we urged them to leave but instead they followed us; they wanted our attention. Finally once we realized they weren't going to leave us alone, I decided to interact with them. I saw that one of them had a toy car which I asked to borrow. I raced the remote control car along the street for a while; this proved quite entertaining to them and
they all thought it was a HOOT!
I guess they hadn't ever seen either a girl or an adult, possibly both, play with a toy car before. It was during that time, that one of them told us that they knew the Elders who had served in our area before Sisters took over and the Elders used to play soccer with them. They LOVED the Elders and so they were curious to find out what we sisters were like. As a missionary, you never know the impression you may make on an individual; to these children, those Elders that had invited them to play soccer time and time again, they were their friends.
This last picture was taken on my last evening in Portugal, down by the wineries in Gaia, with my last companion, Sister Fonseca. She and I were only companions for a mere 5 or 6 days. She was just transferred to my area just before I left; in fact, I got sick with my allergy attack the night of transfers, and the following day Sister Jackson left me and Sister Fonseca arrived. She was from Lisbon, Portugal. We were only companions for a very brief time, but I feel fortunate for having gotten to know her some and giving me that last little dose of insight into her life as a Portuguese woman before I left the country.
My Portuguese friend was the last one to see me off in the airport the morning of the 11TH.