Come, Come Ye Saints

From last Wednesday until Saturday I was on Trek. It was the absolute hardest, most wonderful week of my entire life.

At first I wasn't too keen on the idea of Trek. It sounded hard, and horrible. At this point my parents were still forcing me to go, until I realized how hard it would be for me to go since my hypoglycemia is getting worse. In a nutshell, hypoglycemia means that my blood sugar gets low too quickly so I have to eat often and a lot or else I get very sick. I also cannot eat sugar or too much white flour. Basically I am restricted from simple carbohydrates to complex ones. Since I voiced my concern to my parents about how hard it would be for me to go on Trek they weren't forcing me to go anymore. They tried to figure out ways that would make it easier for me, though, so that I could experience it still, but I was still stubborn on avoiding going at all. Since it is a pioneer trek, that means that the food would be a) scare and authentic and/or b) sugary and floury. We would also be walking very long distances and burning calories which means I would have to eat twice as often as I usually did, and that was about every two hours. I prayed about it, and thought about it, and finally decided that I should go about a week before we left for the Tricities.

I loved my Trek family so much, they were absolutely perfect. We had the best mix of everything and everyone. My family was the only reason why I had a good experience at all. I love Sheila, Hannah, Deanna, Jesse, Jackson, John, Corey, Christian, and Scott. They all made the horrible weather, steep hills, heavy handcarts, and dirt so worth it. We have so many inside jokes that nobody would even understand. Vodka, guinea pigs, and port-o-potties that represent heaven; strangely those are all from Sheila. They brought a spirit to Trek that made me want to help everyone and be the best person. They are all such an inspiration to me.

The hardest part of the week, and of my life was the women's pull. All of the men went to the 'Mormon Battalion' and the women were left to pull the wagons up this ridiculous hill. Over the course of the week we hadn't had enough food to eat, so I was horribly sick even before the women's pull. I was taken ahead by one of the priesthood and walked up most of the hill until he had to go back and help the women pull their famliy's carts. I had to walk up the rest of the hill almost unable to walk and on the verge of tears from being so sick. All of the men were in a huge line on either side of the trail right before the top of the hill where it evened out at attention and silent. I had to walk through all of them by myself. I got to the top of the hill and found the guy who was directing where each family was to put their wagons at the top and explained to him and he got me trail mix and water. I felt so crazily sick by that point I was a prisoner in my own body. I was shaking uncontrollably and had a killer headache. I was nauseous so that I couldn't eat even though that was what would make me well. I absolutely forced myself to eat and I thank God that I could think about food without and incredible urge to throw up. I had to sit there at the top and watch everyone struggling to pull their carts up the hill. I wanted to badly to help them up the hill. I was insanely jealous of all of the girls who found a burst of strength at the top to go back down and help all of the other women pull their carts up. I had to watch the same girls go back down and help every cart that they could up the hill, and I wanted so badly to jump up and run down to help those who were crying, and struggling, and singing. I felt so trapped in this body that can't function without sufficient food that I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I felt like a ghost inside of my shell, like something was sucking my soul out. I saw everything blurred and through the holes of my eye sockets. I can barely even remember after I got to the top, I was almost blacking out.

The last cart was crawling up the mountain when every single girl went to help it up all singing As Sisters In Zion. I was crying wanting to jump up and join them in song, but I didn't even have the strength to sing. I watched all of the men come up the hill so proud of all of the women and touched by the spirit. I listened to everyone talk about how strongly the spirit was felt there, and thought of how I hadn't been a part of it. How I couldn't do it. How I could barely walk up the hill, let alone carrying a handcart or anyone else's. I was so sad and let down that I hadn't received that experience or struggled as they had. I cried for wishing so badly to have been able to do it, and for how sick I still felt.

I had the option to go home, so sleep in my own bed, to take a shower, so eat food, to feel *good*. But I didn't take it. I had made it that far, and I was going to make it all the way. I didn't want to miss any other possible experiences, and I am so glad that I stayed. Everything was so realistic. Me being sick, the blistering sun during the day, and the gale-force wind and rain during the night, going off the trail in the wrong direction and having to backtrack, walking in giant circles when we could have made the trail a lot easier, eating food that was bland and tasteless. Through it all I am glad that it was so authentic; that I got to go through *exactly* what the actual pioneers did.

We pulled into Zion that night. Grass, green grass. And trees, green trees. I love the color green, and I missed it so much. It really was Zion there. That night we all bonded as a family even more than we had before. When I was sick and crying they all hugged me, and loved me. They all helped me, and tried to do as much as they could even though they couldn't understand what it felt like. We complimented each other and talked about our experiences through out the whole week. We ended up staying up until one in the morning telling jokes, giving awesome back massages, and listening to Jackson singing amazing country.

I felt such peace there. I had forgotten what it was like to feel to happy, and to feel the spirit so strongly everywhere I went, and with everyone who was there. My brothers and sisters were all the nicest people I have ever met in my life. Every single person there was giving, and charitable. They always thought of others before themselves. My brothers and the other guys there were such gentlemen. Some of them wouldn't go into the port-o-potty if there was a girl in line behind them. They would open the door for you, or help you anytime you needed it. I had to convince one of my brothers to switch from the middle seat to the window seat on the way home to the Mount Vernon stake center because there was more leg room. I spent five straight minutes trying to get him to switch before he finally did. I was surrounded by people exactly like that for four days, and they made it the best four days I have ever had.

On the last day that we were all together, we had a company testimony meeting. Every member of my family who bore they testimonies touched me. My favorite of them all, though, was defiantly Corey's. That meeting was one of the most spiritual moments in my life. I bore my testimony and felt at such peace, peace and a spirit that was beyond anything I had felt that week which astounded me. Everyone's testimonies were so good, I am so thankful that they bore them.

I grew so close to everyone there it is so crazy to think that less than a week ago I was looking at each of them for the first time, not remembering any of their names thinking 'they all look weird'. I have never felt so close to a group of people, let alone in that short of a period of time. I love all of them with my entire heart, and miss them so much. The feeling that they gave the week was incredible. I would never take it back, and I would do it all again with them in a heartbeat.

The week was hard, and hard is an understatement. I didn't even want to go, but I do not regret a second of it. I was sick more than half the time, but I wouldn't change a second of it.

Come, come, ye Saints, no toil or labor fear;
But with joy wend your way.
Though hard to you this journey may appear,
Grace shall be as your day.
'Tis better far for us to strive
Our useless cares from us to drive;
Do this and joy your hearts will swell —
All is well! All is well!

Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard?
'Tis not so; all is right.
Why should we think to earn a great reward
If we now shun the fight?
Gird up your loins; fresh courage take.
Our God will never us forsake;
And soon we'll have this tale to tell —
All is well! All is well!

We'll find the place which God for us prepared,
Far away in the West.
Where none shall come to hurt or make afraid;
There the Saints will be blessed.
We'll make the air with music ring,
Shout praises to our God and King;
Above the rest these words we'll tell —
All is well! All is well!

And should we die before our journey's through,
Happy day! All is well!
We then are free from toil and sorrow, too;
With the just we shall dwell!
But if our lives are spared again
To see the Saints their rest obtain;
Oh, how we'll make this chorus swell —
All is well! All is well!