exiled

I don't want to be the kind of person who tries to relive glory days of high school or college or anything, but if I were to be that kind of person, my glory days in the mission so far would be my time in Chandler. And yes, the glory days are over.

The past few days have been fun ones, with the whole world kind of pausing to wait for transfers. Being with four Spanish missionaries, we were able to make even better predictions than normal and we had mapped out and figured out all leadership advancements and all training calls how "we would do it." Monday before transfers always leads up until nighttime, when we receive the call from the President or our zone leaders. We went to lunch as a zone to Chili's, which worked out perfectly for me, as I got a free cake for my birthday. We taught some great lessons and then were at home promptly at 9:00 p.m. to await the phone's ringing. President Craig called to have Elder Guernsey and Elder Faulkner both train new missionaries. I was out. Booted. Ripped from the Glory. Tuesday became a day of packing—happy birthday to me—and saying goodbye to the few people I had met over just four weeks. We also helped a family that was baptized on Saturday pack their things to move to El Paso for the military. It was a nice day.

Transfers are always fun, but never moreso than yesterday. I know more missionaries with each transfer and it becomes an exciting chance to see them all. Transfers are announced alphabetically by zone, meaning Yuma Zone comes last. I was one of the last missionaries left without a companion, and in fact, when it was announced that I would be going to San Luis, in the Yuma Zone, I went to sit by myself because only the missionaries being transferred make the four-hour trip from Yuma to Tempe.

So I've come to San Luis, the exiled area. Yuma Zone is in the South West corner of Arizona, and Yuma itself is a fairly large city. San Luis is about 20 miles outside of Yuma, right on the border of Mexico. You can see the border if you stand on our roof. Everyone is Mexican, and my companion and I are the only white people I have seen so far. Spanish is definitely the language spoken here. In all senses of the matter, it's a pretty cool place to be, but the distance makes me feel somewhat exiled.

Thank you to those who wrote me. I did appreciate the emails and of course the package (Mom) and letters. I love you all and think I should have a birthday every week so I could get more mail. But I suppose then birthdays would also be mundane occurrences and not worthy of extra recognition if they came every week. I love you all and have a strong testimony that this church is led by a prophet who receives revelation. I know God works amongst His children today and that He wants us to return back to Him. It is an achievable goal, or it would never have been worth it.

With much love,

-Elder Sam Bostwick