March 25, 2020
Hello, from Idaho!
Well, I definitely didn't see this transfer coming! I am writing to you live from the living room of my home in Idaho. How did I end up here? Well, the short version is that inspired church leaders who are working endlessly on our behalf chose to evacuate the Moldova missionaries when they saw that the last border was closing. Although I did not want to leave the country and certainly wasn't prepared to see my mission there end, I am grateful that I can be home with my family during this time of uncertainty.
I had been serving in Moldova, with 13 other missionaries. Moldova is a small country, just the size of a few of Idaho's counties combined, so when the infection numbers began increasing last week the atmosphere both on the street and throughout the mission really started changing. Restaurants, stores, and other non essential shops were closed and people rarely walked on the street without a purpose. I remember the day before we were all put on quarantine, I was standing on the bus next to a man in a mask, overhearing a bunch of women talk about the virus, and while watching a group of hospital workers and police in hazmat suits barge into a home outside of the bus. It felt so foriegn and so strange and totally unnerving. Because I was in a country separate from my mission home and mission leaders, when the border between Ukraine and Moldova was closed, I was worried I wouldn't be allowed to stay. I worried that I would be sent home and as much as I loved my family, that outcome is what kept me up at night.
Each day we braced ourselves for a announcements while adapting and continuing to teach our investigators. We prepped, were quarantined, the senior missionaries were sent home, and then quarter of our Ukraine missionaries were sent home. Many of the people in our area, both members and investigators, were worried about the virus, their families, and the future. As of last Saturday, I was grateful I was still in Moldova and appreciated the increased opportunities I had to share the gospel and message of peace with those we talked with through Facebook Messenger. I even learned how to play the Moldovian national anthem on my keyboard and played it in the evenings off my balcony to my neighbors. I imagined we would all sing together. I guess that was the Hallmark version. They didn't join in, but they came out and listened and I hope it brightened their day in some way. When Moldova closed all of its borders, Sister Jones and I were confident that we were going to be staying in Moldova for "an indefinite period of time". Luckily, I was not opposed because I love both Moldova and Sister Jones:)
Sunday still feels like a bad dream. We planned our day in the morning assuming we were living our new normal. Around 13:00, we got a call from our mission president. I knew what the call was going to be about and my heart sank (I may have cried). He informed us that in two hours, we needed to be on a US Embassy bus to Bucharest, Romania where we would continue on to the US. I spent those final moments in Moldova in complete shock as I scrambled to pack my bags and call missionaries and friends in Moldova and Ukraine to say goodbye. We joined the other missionaries at the U.S embassy where we took a seven hour bus ride to Romania. The streets were completely empty and it looked like a creepy Soviet Union ghost town.
As we were driving, we learned that the border was closing that night at 20:00 so we needed to be quick. We made it though, and arrived in Bucharest at around 2:30 in the morning, slept at a hotel for two hours, and then took a four hour flight to Amsterdam. From Amsterdam, we took an eight hour flight to New York (I got to sit by the guy in the full-body hazmat suit). In New York we were removed from the plan one at a time and were checked for Coronavirus. The six of us missed our first flight to Salt Lake City but caught one 4 hours later. When we landed, we were escorted by a nice, large security guard to the parking garage where our families were waiting in their cars. My mom and brothers had come down to pick me up. My dad coordinates the supply chain for the hospital system in Boise and apparently, his work these days is more exciting than my homecoming. (Totally kidding! I know he wanted to be there) It was great to stop by his office and get my hug a little later. The boys are SO TALL! It's like living with trees and it feels so nice to be reunited again:)
I have felt a whirlwind of emotions and still am as I sit at my home, still wearing my nametag. Not just because I am a little sentimental, but because I have not been released. Although I am devastated that my time serving the people of Ukraine and Moldova was cut by eight months, I am so so so so grateful for every single day that I had there. I am sad I'll miss out on more missionary experiences there but don't feel like I was robbed of my full experience as a missionary. I am grateful for every person that was kind enough to hear me share this message about Jesus Christ on the street, that time I found a hedgehog, my incredible companions, the opportunity to learn Russian and immerse myself in both Ukraine and Moldova's beautiful cultures, all the Borscht I ate, and especially my opportunity to strengthen my relationship with my Savior and to truly understand what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.
My future remains very uncertain. Word is, I will be reassigned after what my mom is calling our 14 day Merrill family private reunion. I am grateful for this unique opportunity to spend time with my family and further my calling to help others come unto Christ.
I know that God has a plan for each of us and I find so much comfort in that knowledge. Wow, I love the gospel!!
I love you all! Thank you for your constant love and support. I will keep you updated on my next move
Love,
Sister Merrill
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| Last Andy's with Sister Jones |
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