11-29-10 "This is Apollo 18, signing off..."

Hello, all y'all in the frozen land of Idaho. We here in Houston experienced a wet and overcast Thanksgiving week, but nothing too drastic. Some days were chilly (in the 50s and 60s), some days were warmer (in the 70s), and some days there was even wind. It made me shiver just a bit, but the anticipation of true Winter both makes me shiver even more (because I am afraid I've become a Texan who believes that what I'm experiencing is Winter) and warms me from the inside out (because that will also mean Idaho and YOU). It sounds like good Thanksgivings were had by both parties, even separately. And the Christmas party sounded nice, for those who attended. I'm sure the football game was just as exciting, whoever played in it and whoever won. Our Thanksgiving was very thankful. We had a brief lunch with one family in the ward, the Speckhards, who were inviting over quite a few friends and neighbors. And our real dinner was with the Davidsons who are also in the ward. We played some fun games and enjoyed not only pie but eggnog milkshakes (made with premium Blue Bell ice cream). They had the best sweet potatoes I'd ever eaten, and a secret delicious ingredient in the stuffing: pomegranate seeds.

We also went to the temple, found plenty of time for tracting, had another lesson with Pablo, sent Joseph off to California after passing his baptismal interview with flying colors ("He is very prepared," said the district leader), and learned that Sister Radin and Sister Schlauder will be training a new missionary after my departure. We are pretty sure she is from Idaho, so the balance of power will be maintained in the mission. It's becoming quite bittersweet to say goodbye, knowing how much I love my companions, my fellow missionaries, the people here in Texas, and just the opportunity to have the gospel as the only priority in my life. But I am also anticipating some wonderful things ahead. "For after much tribulation come the blessings." I really haven't had all that much tribulation. It's all been a small moment in the end. But somehow I know the Lord will bless me anyway. He already has so much. I have a wonderful family, many friends--new and old, Texan and otherwise--and a knowledge of and covenants in the restored gospel. What more could I want? Well, I guess I could think of a few things, but because I have been a missionary, I will not have to worry about those things. I know they are coming my way just as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow morning. And the next morning after that. And the next morning after that, when I am enjoying it in snowy, old, beautiful Idaho, my home.

I suppose I should tell you one last funny story by e-mail before I attempt to fill you in on all the details in person. We were teaching a lesson this week to a former investigator who has some unique health challenges, one of them being that both of her legs were amputated about a year ago. She requires some extra care because of this, which is provided by her younger sister, although both of them are probably in their late forties or early fifties. But, not wanting to be a burden, she told us, "She doesn't need to be taking care of me. This is her time to be a cougar." I was able to contain my laughter but just barely. It reminded me of earlier on my mission, in Tomball, when I said something in the presence of the Spanish elders about "not being that kind of cougar, " meaning that I was a BYU cougar and not a Tomball cougar (since that is their mascot), but they intentionally took it to mean the other kind of cougar, the kind the investigator was talking about...a lady who likes younger men. I'm not sure if I've even heard the end of that episode of Sister Sorensen puts her foot in her mouth. I saw one of the elders recently at a zone conference, and he mentioned something about it. Oh well. It was a good laugh, and the moment with the investigator wouldn't have been nearly as funny without that moment so many months ago. I love how jokes can build up like that, like loose ends being tied up. This is one of them.

I took some excellent pictures yesterday with some of my favorite people and families in the wards. I'll show you when I get home. For now, enjoy these of me with the Kleinwood ward mission leader, Brother Williams. As you can see, the sun was shining brightly and there is not a flake of snow in sight.

I think this is one of the final lines in "Apollo 13," just when the space capsule is touching down in the ocean water. I think Tom Hanks says it. Or it might be Kevin Bacon. Or it might be something like this earlier in the movie. But the point is, someone in the movie says something like this, and it's been going through my head all week, so it must be what I'm supposed to say. "It's been a beautiful ride."

Love,

Sister Whitney Mikell Sorensen