A year ago, I was still unsure my senior year Space project was going to go through. I had no idea Scout was going to help me ask Rachel to Prom. I didn’t know how my photography books would, or if they even could, work out. My thoughts were so far from a mission, I couldn't comprehend what my life would be like in a year. I didn’t know what college I would be accepted to and commit to. I didn't know where I would be going on my mission. I didn't know that my greatest joy would be felt in Wyoming teaching families in the Casper winter. I had no idea Miles would be chilling in Hawaii, still hanging out with my sister when they could. Just kidding -- totally called that. I didn’t know MRKL would be killing it in the photography game making great art and good money. I had no idea Nate would emerge as the most promising runner in HTH history and be the youngest HTH runner to ever break sixteen in the 5k. I didn't know Reed would come back and kill it in CIF and beat out the higher ranking division. I had no idea the team would still remember me. Ugh, I do miss home, but it's too amazing here to ever think of missing a minute. Anyway, I had a good time thinking of the person I was a year ago. Oh man, Henry of the 2019 New Year, life is about to get good; too good. Traveling, photography, girls, family, track, crazy whirlwind Missionary Training Center experiences. Plus, five straight months living next to some dude from Kansas City. Deeply loving Christ on snow covered sidewalks, earnestly uncovering insane stories and lessons from the scriptures, and loving others. This week Sister M texted us asking what we wanted for dinner. I said pozole sounded good. Elder Laudie said, "I hate pozole." I said, "that's impossible--that's like saying you hate soup. There are too many variations." He said, "no, I had it made by a real Mexican lady." I said, alright. It went silent. "Is there such a thing as a fake Mexican lady?" He didn’t love that question. He went on a small tangent and then said I was just mad because he was questioning my ability to judge pozole. First off, I am. But why do you care? I didn’t say that, by the way. These arguments make me so mad. You asked me what I wanted, then you say that entire food type is disgusting and you've had it three times in your life, bro what? Why so closed minded? But that is so hypocritical to say because I do the exact same thing all the time. I can't blame him. And yet I do, and I let it get under my skin. That's why half of the day's description is detailing this ridiculously stupid pozole argument. Eventually we landed on potato soup WHICH IS BASICALLY POZOLE but that doesn’t matter. We visited an older lady whose house was infested with rats so badly we saw them running around and saw like seven huddling in a box outside. It was nasty. I felt sorry for the lady. She wasn’t in good health. It felt good to help her. I was maybe a little too eager to leave though. My inner Erin. We went back to the apartment and then to dinner. I smiled maybe a bit too much when Elder Laudie brought up pozole at dinner and the mom cooking it was like, "I love pozole, my friend just sent me a recipe." One of Elder Laudie's arguments against pozole was that the kids wouldn't like it at all. Elder Laudie turned to the kids and asked "oh, do you like pozole?" "Oh yeah, I absolutely love pozole! It's the best." I had a little bit of a soul jump and celebration. The mom said, "I guess we'll have to have it next time!" Elder Laudie told me, lying down in bed last night, "I was thinking I could go a fifth transfer with you." I told him I felt the same. We honestly had such a good day and have a great, easy chemistry most times. It's been really fun! By being honest, even with negative feelings and sometimes causing a small bit of contention that bothers us for an hour or two, we've actually cleared the air and it's totally fine...I hope. Anyway, this morning we walked with a lightness in our step and our conversations. Wow, this year was amazing. It is amazing to see how many of my prayers were answered. I wouldn't recognize who I used to be, in all of the best ways. Like a good guy gone evil in a movie, we typically say that "we don’t recognize who we've become" in a negative way. However, I mean that in the most endearing, most wonderful way possible. Truly, as said in Second Corinthians, I feel like a new creature through Christ. A new being. When I say that, I mean I have adopted, or begun to adopt, charity, sacrifice, communication, love, hope, humility, meekness, and more I do not have the time or capability to understand. I am truly happy. My joy is in others. Not perfectly, but I smile that I am not perfect, because that means there's more fun for me to figure out. Like how I imagine Muhammad Ali stepping into the third round, knowing 15 more are coming, smiling, exhilarated, prepared, and earnest. A mentality like Marshawn, an endurance like Ali, a boldness like Pre, a hustle like Thomas, and a motivation deep-rooted like Zamperini. I am just happy to be alive. *This is a letter Henry and Elder Laudie received from someone they've been teaching. "My grandma was talking about gratitude yesterday, and told me to thank the first person who came to mind. So here we are, I guess. Hopefully you don't find me weird or clingy. I guess the first thing is to say thank you. Thank you for making my church experience a little less nightmarish. It's obviously still a struggle, but those 2 minute conversations make me feel a little less alone and a little more normal. Thank you for treating me the exact same when I came out, and for not treating me like I am a thing to be fixed. Thank you for giving me a chance to understand the Book of Mormon. At first, I really just wanted to read it so I'd be educated on the thing I was leaving. I tried and failed, but when I asked for help, I've actually been consistently reading and understanding what's inside. Also, and I can't stress this enough, thank you for explaining the pride cycle in the beginning. That saved me a lot of frustration. Thank you for encouraging me to pray, I know I'm not the best at it, and I haven't for a week and a half, but I'm trying harder than I have in forever. When I met you guys, I hadn't (on my own will) prayed for a little under 2 years. I know I shouldn't get too attached because you guys are going to leave eventually, but I feel like I needed to say something. Plus, I'm not going to disobey my grandma. She's kinda scary. Anyway, even after you guys leave, I might actually try to be happy at church. It's not going to be easy but at least I'll try. So ya, thanks for inspiring me to try." I have had so many great experiences. There was a point on my mission where I thought, all of it was worth it. If I went home now, I would have been a completely changed person. I felt like there was nothing more to be learned. I thought, "wow, these next two weeks at the MTC are going to be great." Oh, little did I know what was coming: the greatest transformation and experience I have ever had. I love being here.
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