It was nineteen years ago that I arrived home to Sacramento, California, from a full-time mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in the Netherlands. It was a life-altering experience, for me personally. I was prepared and excited to come home and see my family but as that big Boeing 747 airliner took off from the Schipol Airport, in Amsterdam, the feeling became final and the greenery that I had grown accustomed to and the people I had learned to love were going to become a memory. There were people that I had said my last goodbye to, in this life. As I sat in my seat and watched the country disappear into the distance, my heart ached. I had learned the culture, language, and various customs of another people. I loved so much about these people and I didn't know when or if I would ever return. I still long for the day that I return. Although I came home, physically, a piece of my heart resides in Holland and that piece will always remain.
I am so grateful for the opportunity that was given to me to learn and grow there. It was in Holland that I went from a young man to a man. It was a time when I relied, solely, on my Heavenly Father.
I am amazed at the way that time races by. It doesn't seem like very long ago that I was there. The smells are familiar to me. I can taste the food. The sights were breath-taking. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. I am a better person because I answered the call of a living prophet of God to go and share the message of hope to the Dutch people.
My mission was just the setting of a strong foundation that has and will continue to sustain me throughout my life.
