Had I thought about going home? Every day for the past several months. Several times a day. Every morning when I struggled to get up and out of bed. As I dreaded what the day might bring; thoughts of not being good enough, ideas that I would never be good enough for the work, that I would never be able to do what was expected of me.
Had I ever thought about going home? Only a thousand times since being transferred to Jasper in December and slipped into this vicious cycle of feeling unworthy and feeling guilty about feeling unworthy. Here I was in Alex City, in the month of March, and I still couldn't push through these feelings, and they were just getting worse.
I would never be able to admit all of this out loud, so I simply answered, "A little bit."
"Well, Sister Woodard," came Sister Hanks' sweet voice through my earpiece, "I wonder if that would be the best thing for you right now, to go home and get better."
Oh please, that's all I want. To feel better and be better. I want to be happy again.
Sister Hanks continued as I switched the phone from my left ear to my right ear. Her voice, as it always was, was calm and reassuring.
"Sister Woodard, you've been struggling with this for quite some time, and I want you to know that President Hanks and I are very proud of you. You have done a hard thing, and you have done it extremely well. You're doing a mission, which is hard enough already, buy you're doing it while wearing a backpack of rocks and steel boots and walking through mud. President and I couldn't be more proud."
And in that moment, I knew. I knew I didn't have to fight anymore. I knew I didn't have to keep walking uphill in the mud while wearing steel boots and a backpack full of rocks. I had truly done what I needed to do and the task was finished. Warmth and peace washed over me as I thought about going home nine months early from my mission in Alabama. I knew everything would be OK.
Serving a mission with depression and anxiety really was like Sister Hanks said: Like walking in mud wearing steel boots and a backpack full of rocks. At the beginning, it was even worse because I didn't realize that that was what I was doing. Slowly, the steel boots came on and heavy rocks were placed in my bag. It was a slow process, because at first I was able to shake the boots off and dump out the rocks. But then they kept coming back faster and it became tiring to get them off. I didn't know where this extra weight had come from, and I desperately wanted to give up. But I knew I couldn't. I knew I couldn't because of a life lesson I learned from my parents.
When I was about 11, I decided I wanted to play softball. When I discovered that being on a softball team wasn't for me, I wanted to quite. But my parents wouldn't let me. They told me that I had committed to the team and that I would need to finish out the season so I didn't let them down. That lesson has stayed with me my whole life, and I was determined to stay until the end of my mission and not let anybody down. That might have made things a little worse for me, because then I started to feel that, even though I was staying, I was letting people down, that I wasn't good enough to be a missionary. I know now without a shadow of a doubt that that was Satan tearing me down. Our Heavenly Father knows my worth and he would never tell me I'm not good enough for Him. Despite all of my flaws and shortcomings, I know that Father loves me as I am. With His help, I will become even greater.
Leaving my mission early was the hardest decision I have ever made, but I know it was what was best for me. Those nine months were hard, but so very very worth it. I learned things I never would have learned at home. I grew in ways I never even imagined. And I was able to touch people's lives in ways that I most likely don't even realize. I don't have to preach the gospel like other missionaries. I have a different song to sing, and a different way to sing it. There are different people to hear my song, and they aren't in Alabama. AND THAT IS OK.
I'm coming closer to being alright with this situation. My trust is in God the Almighty, and I know I will never be led astray.
