Transition
By Greg W. Haws
September 6, 2013
This just in:
After nearly four months of medical leave, we have received a new assignment. We have been asked to go to the Missouri Independence Mission. We will be MLS (member/leadership/support) missionaries. We will be working with a YSA ward that is from two stakes. One of them is the Liberty Stake. In our area will be several historical sites such as the Liberty Jail, Adam-ondi-ahman, the Farr West Temple Site, Haun's Mill, and the new Kanas City Temple. We leave in two weeks. We will drive our own car. We are assuming we will serve out the rest of our mission which is one more year.
A few years ago, Debi
and I trained for and participated in several “Sprint Triathlons” together, and
I did a couple on my own. These events
required us to swim 10 to 12 laps in the pool, bike 12 miles and run 3 miles. These were a challenge for us; especially for
me.
The first one we did
was in St. George. I thought it was
pretty cool that they wrote our numbers on the back of our calves and also on
our shoulders. We took a picture of us,
“branded” and ready to go. We were
joined in this effort by our daughter, Sunee, and her husband Kyle.
The officials attached
a bracelet to our ankles that contained a special timing chip. The purpose of the chip was to mark the time
that we crossed the line to begin and then again as we advanced from one
segment to the next. At each station we
passed through portals which recorded our time and progress. At the end of the event, we received our total
time: the time for each segment, and something we had not focused on before,
our transition time, that is, the
time it took to transition from one
segment to the next. We were a little
shocked when we realized how much time we had used up drying off after
swimming, putting on shoes and changing clothes, not to mention physically
getting from one segment location to the next.
As we prepared for our
second triathlon, we also prepared to manage our transition time better. We
positioned our bikes, we had a five gallon bucket to hold our stuff—and it also
served as a seat—and we determined the optimal clothes needed for each
event. We got our helmets, sunglasses
and shoes ready so that we could transition.
We learned that many events are won or lost in the transition. In swimming, they say it is often how a
person executes his or her starts, turns and finishes that determine the
winner. So it is with other things in
our lives.
On September 3, 2012
Debi and I entered the Missionary Training Center in Provo prior to our leaving
for our mission to the Africa West Area.
Little did we know that our mission experience would also have segments?
After 9 very rewarding
months in Africa, on May 27, 2013, I became ill. On June 13, 2013 we flew from Accra, Ghana to
New York City, and then home to Hooper (actually the plane landed in Salt Lake
City and my brother, Wayne, picked us up and drove us to Hooper, Utah). I
eventually underwent surgery and then began what has seemed like a long period
of recovery. I am now healthy and we are
waiting to return to full-time missionary service, the next segment of our
event. So, as it has turned out, the
last three months have actually been transition
time.
Like our first
triathlon, we clearly did not realize how much the transition would play in the
total event, something that we were not adequately prepared to manage. Many things have occurred during this last
three months, some of them joyful, and some not so much. Perhaps if this happened again, we would be
better prepared to manage this time.
In the triathlon, as
one segment is finished, you move to the next.
If you do not like your time in the first segment, say the swimming, you
cannot go back and do it again. You live
with the time and move on. As we look
back on our “time” for our first segment, we realize that we could have done
better, but still, we are pleased with the results. We were able to assist Brother William Sowah
in moving the Area Audit function to a higher level. We had some great missionary experiences, and
were able to help establish an open house program at the Accra Ghana
Temple. We found time to assist in other
areas, and we made lasting friendships with other missionary couples, members
of the Church, and dedicated Church leaders.
As I said, we are pleased with our time in the first segment.
We did find that coming
home from a mission in the middle is very hard.
At first we thought that perhaps this should be an option for all senior
missionaries. We wondered if it would
hurt if couples were all given an option to take a vacation and go home for a
few weeks and visit their families. Perhaps more would serve if the separation did
not seem so long. But coming home sick
is an entirely different story.
When we arrived home,
I was very sick, but Debi was not. Our
grandchildren and children were not sick either, and they all wanted to see
us—especially their grandmother and mother.
My grandchildren had all been praying for my health. They all fasted the first Sunday in June, and
friends and other missionaries placed my name in many temples across the
world. When I came home, some of my
younger grandchildren interpreted our return as an answer to their prayers. After
all, Grandma and Grandpa had come home!
But still, I was sick.
The challenge was that
our home was being occupied by our daughter, Judi, and her husband, Mike, and
their three little boys, William, Thomas and Nathan. We determined to try not to disrupt them any
more than absolutely necessary, so we moved into the guest room and tried to
take up as little space as possible. Judi
and Mike have been so gracious and kind, but still they did not plan on us
coming home for three months in the middle of our mission.
Our dear Stake
President, President Matt Malone, thinking we would be a valuable resource in
recruiting other couples to serve missions, asked us to speak in all 13 wards
in our stake while we were home. We have one more ward to visit, but several
Sundays we have spoken in three wards in one day! This was while I was trying to recover from
surgery. We understand that our efforts
may have paid off as several couples in our stake have begun the process to
enter full-time missionary service. An
unexpected result of this “stake tour” has been that we have developed a
renewed love and connection to our friends and neighbors in our stake. We realize that Hooper is truly our
hometown. After all, I wrote the book on
Hooper!
All of our children do
not live near us, so we have taken two extended trips to visit two families in
St. George and two others in Ohio and West Virginia. I asked the doctor what I was supposed to do
while I was recovering after he told me not to do anything strenuous, his reply
was what I supposed is standard for terminally ill patients: Take a vacation.
So we did. But we had to fit them in
around our speaking assignments.
I have done a couple
of “projects” while in this transition period, however. On two occasions I visited the Church History
Library in Salt Lake and donated original historical material to their collection. Among other things I gave them some of my
father’s journals and records from his mission to Canada before World War II
and his service in the Pacific during the War.
They were very happy to receive this valuable information. I also donated the missionary journal of my
grandfather, James G. Widdison Jr., which he recorded during his mission to the
Northwestern States (Washington, Oregon, etc.) in 1902 and 1903.
Debi’s first priority
was to take care of me and help me heal.
I am so grateful for her service.
Besides this, she was not sure what she was supposed to do so she just reverted
back to her former roles, almost the first day after we returned. Even though Mike and Judi have done a
remarkable job maintaining our home and yard, still Debi has helped cleaned the
house, pulled weeds in the yard and garden, and helped prepare the food. She has done her very best to cover for the
fact that she is also in a transition period.
Unlike me, she has done strenuous work and has been busy helping her children
and grandchildren but this period has been very hard for her as well.
When I have been able,
we have attended the Temple. We had
grown accustomed to going to the temple at least one time each week while we
were in Africa. Our temple, the Ogden
Temple, is undergoing signification modifications and is therefore closed, so
we have had to visit other temples. With
my health challenge, sitting through an entire temple session without a break
has been very difficult.
When we left, we moth-balled
our three cars and reduced the insurance to minimal coverage. So when we got home, we had to activate them,
which meant among other things, getting them serviced and registered. Two of our car’s batteries failed over the
cold winter and had to be replaced. When
I took our Mustang in for inspection, I was told that the battery failure had
wiped out the history on the car’s computer, so we would need to drive it for
100 to 200 miles before it could tell whether it was polluting the air or
not. The shop manager kindly offered to have
one of the mechanics drive it and put on those miles, but I thanked him and
declined the offer. I barely let them
pull it into the stall at the shop. So Debi and I determined instead to take a
short road trip, maybe even stay overnight somewhere. We drove up to Logan, attended the temple, and
then found that all hotels were full due to a festival in town. We then put the top down and ventured up the
canyon and found the Bear Lake Valley full in preparation for an open-water triathlon
that was happening the next day. So we
completed our journey by going through Woodruff and Randolph and over Monte
Cristo and back down to our home in Hooper.
We put on the necessary 200 miles in our unlicensed (but insured)
Metallic Red 2005 Mustang Convertible without being arrested.
We have spent a great
deal of our transition time discussing our future. We are facing questions that we were not
planning to have to deal with for another year, as we originally were planning
to return in August of 2014. We have
several issues. What should we do for
health insurance? Our missionary
insurance expires three months after our release, and as we were released when
we got home, after September 30, 2013 we will have no health insurance, unless
we return. We have spent a lot of time
talking about our financial situation.
We have discussed options for future employment, or full retirement. I
have checked out several job options. What to do about Social Security (I just
turned 61 so I am one year away from taking early benefits). Our home and yard is so big. We even have considered building a smaller
home. But if we did build a new home,
then what should we do with our current home and yard. This has occupied much of our attention. As I have had more time than I had uses for
that time, all of these uncertainties have grown way out of proportion. I admit
that I have been overwhelmed and confused.
I should not have had to even consider these issues at this point.
We have tried to stay
focused on returning to full-time missionary service, but even that has been a
question. Should we call it good for now
and prepare to serve again sometime in the future?
Last Monday, while we
were in Ohio, we received word that a good friend of ours from our ward took
his own life. Devin was a great man, and
perhaps the type of person that would seem to be the last one to take such a
dramatic life altering action. His death
has had a terrifying impact on his family, our ward, our town, and us. We attended his funeral Saturday, and he was
the subject of much of our ward meetings on Sunday. Most people stated that they could not
understand how he could come to that point in his life. The disturbing thing for me is that I do
understand his feelings. I have had a
small glimpse into the dark side of life, and how a person’s mind can be
impacted by events that seem to be beyond control. Fortunately for me, I have not gone any
further down that road. But he did, and
it has been a tragedy.
One night, in
frustration, I told Debi that I felt like I was a ship on the open sea without
sails or a rudder, and being carried by the currents, not knowing where I was
or even where I was supposed to be going. Debi
agreed that she too had similar feelings.
We wondered several times if returning to full-time missionary service
was even what we were supposed to do? Did we do what we were called to do?
Also, did anyone really even care what we did next? Except for President Malone, we have had no
contact with the Church; no calls to see how we are doing, or even if I
survived the surgery and treatment. We received no encouragement, no counsel,
and no instruction. But we are big
people and there are others who need the attention of the institutional Church
more than us. But, a call would have been
nice.
Last Thursday, August
29, 2013, I received a clean bill of health from Dr. Tyler Christensen, my
Urologist, and President Malone has been in contact with the Missionary
Department, so we are hoping for a reassignment this coming week. Then our transition period will end and we
can begin the next segment. In a triathlon, we would know that after swimming
we would get on our bikes and ride. But
as far as our mission event is concerned, we do not know what we will do next. We will not repeat the first segment however;
we do not anticipate an auditing assignment.
All in all, if we
serve a full 24 month period, and 3 of those months have been transition time, then we are looking at
1/8th or 12.5% of our mission as transition. This is significant! How will this time stack up when the entire
event is finally judged?
In my talk, that I
have given 12 times, I have said that “we are all enlisted until the conflict
is over, and the conflict is definitely not over!”
So we are anxious to get back in the race. Together
we are singing:
There’s surely somewhere a lovely place
In earth’s harvest
fields so wide,
Where I may
labor through life’s short day
For Jesus, the
Crucified.
So trusting my
all to thy tender care;
And knowing
thou lovest me,
I’ll do thy
will with a heart sincere,
I’ll be what
you want me to be.
I’ll say what
you want me to say.
I’ll go where you want me to go!
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