Part One of “Establishing My First Home”
I left for my 18 month mission in Canada knowing I would return home with plans. On February 14, 2019, I would fly to Missouri and reconnect with my long missed mom. Until August came, I would work, earn money, and return to a (hopefully) phenomenal physique and skill set for soccer, better prepared to go to national’s than ever before. In August, I would return to Iowa Western Community College, earn back my spot as starting goalkeeper, and snag the attention of recruiters. Then, I could sign on to play soccer at a D1 college, like Utah State University or the University of Boston.
Flying to my mom’s new house in Iowa, on September 24, 2018, shifted these plans. Or, so I thought, in a literal sense. Since I came home early, due to medical reasons, I would shift the date I returned to school to January, and start playing soccer then.
The call to my college coach started the real process of change.
“What’s your priority?”
He ensured I could return to Iowa Western to play soccer, but then he posed this question. In his wisdom, he let me ponder as he continued on with a personal story. My coach relayed his priorities after he served a mission, at around my same age; soccer was not one of them. It was only a fortunate opportunity that fell into place with his other plans.
Before the call ended, I knew I would not return to Iowa Western. Striking out another part of my plan, I turned to the next logical option. Stay home, get a job, and finish my associate’s at the most local (and inexpensive) community college, Des Moines Area Community College. After that, I could transfer to a university.
I scheduled an interview for a position at the local grocer, and my mom relished my choice to stay with her.
One day I started eating lunch, perhaps a sandwich, while walking towards the living room. A past goal and the plan to achieve it flooded into my mind.
At some point in my mission, I had decided that before I returned to Iowa Western, I would spend a few months in Utah. I had a recommendation of a good goalkeeper trainer and I had a close family friend I could reach out to for housing. This would grant me independence, surround me with friends (who understood and shared many of my values), and prepare me to return to my starter position.
Maybe it was the cheese in the sandwich that enabled inspiration, or, more likely, I received revelation while “on the move.”1 Between the kitchen and the living room, I remembered our family friends and the possibility of housing with them.
From there, my mind did the rest. Perhaps, I could live with them, and if I could live with them, maybe I could train with goalkeeper coach, and if I could train with the goalkeeper coach, maybe I could attend a university in Utah. In a moment my priority clicked into place: surround myself with friends who have similar standards. From there, I could take my chances with soccer and if it happened, it happened.
But, first, I used soccer as my driving force to get to Utah.
My first call went to the goalkeeper trainer. Minutes after I left a voicemail, he returned my call and confirmed he coached in Utah. Within in an hour, through a few texts and a phone call, I confirmed with our family friends that I could rent a room in their basement. One week later, I alone had carried everything I could salvage into my car, and drove away to my new home.
The last week of my residence in Iowa, events occurred that supported my choice. I had no money, but shortly after I made the decision to leave, a family asked me to house sit while they were gone. The money they paid me was the exact amount I needed for rent. I also conversed with a leader at my church, and apologized that I could not minister to the women I was assigned to help. She assured me it was alright, and it seemed she had planned for it, when she told me, “I had a feeling you wouldn’t be here long.”
And, I wasn’t.
For the drive over, one of my sisters offered up her home in Colorado as a pit stop and resting place. Circumstances once again aligned and insisted I leave the next morning, to arrive at Utah swiftly. When I drove into Orem, the sun started setting behind the mountains, just as my journey also settled to its own close. I once again carried everything I decided to bring with, this time out of my car. I unloaded it all into the room in the basement, now designated for me, laid across the bed, surrounded by my strewn belongings, and huffed. I had arrived.
The journey to get to Utah happened nearly instantaneously and purposefully. With divine support, I found my way to a new beginning. The events that assured me of the correctness of my choice did not come from coincidence. The inspiration did not come from my intelligence. It came from God and His guiding hand.
His guidance did not stop there. With the close of my journey to Utah, I could focus on a much more difficult and longer journey. One that I did not realize I had already started. The continuation of this sequence will be featured in my next weekly blog post, in Part Two of “Establishing My First Home.”
1Oaks, Dallin H. “Sharing the Gospel.” Ensign, The Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints, November 2001, churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ge
neral-conference/2001/10/sharing-the-gospel?lang=eng.
Read MRC 