A collection of moments from a crisp September night in Wallsburg to commemorate Boston’s final weekend at home. Fire-cooked tin foil dinners, trampoline tricks, triple berry crisp, and a lump in my throat. Equal parts special & painful.
I don’t hate many things, but I really hate goodbyes. I always have.
We drop Bos off at the airport early tomorrow morning. I’m really proud of him. I truly do believe it’s the biggest honor to go spread the hopeful message of Jesus Christ, His atonement & resurrection, and of eternal families. And Boston is the perfect person for the job! In fact, he is one of the best people I know. Being a full-time missionary is a sacred calling that will change his life and the lives of the people he meets in Brazil, but his absence will create a Boston sized hole that won’t be filled until he is safely back home again. It wouldn’t be worth it if it wasn’t true.
I hope that he can laugh at the less than ideal experiences that will surely come his way. I hope he can connect with his companions and create friendships with his investigators. I hope Portuguese comes easy and that the food is okay. I hope he has fun on his P-days and gets to explore Brazil like he wants to. I hope he stays safe and healthy and that if he does get sick, he bounces back quickly. I hope that he is proud of himself for the sacrifice he is making. I hope he finds fulfillment, joy, and purpose. And when the 2 years are over, I hope he is excited to come back home to the people who love him more than anything in the whole entire world!
Deus seja você até nos encontrarmos novamente!
Good luck Boston!
The comedic relief so I don’t cry for the rest of the day: Noah trying on Boston’s crocs and unfortunately getting ideas… bad ideas.
And Boston laughing at Noah.
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