Hellooooo, Tooelle!
A funny thing happened the other day.
At the time, it was not very funny. In fact, it was rather horrifying.
(heads up: this is super long. sorry peeps)
It all started on August 21st, 2012. The day I left California to head back to Provo, UT. It's where I go to school most of the year, and I had been on Summer break at home in good old Escondido. My plane flew out of Los Angeles, from John Wayne Airport. It had been a rough day...as I got out of the car in Cali to head inside the airport, the strap on my biggest bag broke, so I couldn't carry the bag by a handle but instead I had to carry it like a baby. When I got inside the airport, I overheard a airline worker tell another lady she couldn't carry three bags into the plane, even if they were small. I had three small-ish bags myself, and they were stuffed. I did my best, and by some miracle I fit all of the contents of one bag into the other two, AND I was able to squish the left-over bag into another bag. For me, it was seriously a miracle.
Anyways, i got through security without much hassle (another miracle!) and boarded my flight. It was the first flight I had been on where I felt sick most of the way. At one point, I actually grabbed the puke bag, just in case. Fun stuff, right there! It was all goof though. Now I know how most people feel on planes....good for building compassion;)
I got off the plane, searching for the bus stop. I forgot I had to get cash for the bus, so that was one detour. I looked and looked and looked for that darn bus stop, but it was no where to be found. I asked everyone, and no one even knew there was a bus that left from the airport! Finally, I found a worker who said she would ask around and find out for sure. She was gone for a lot long than I had expected, and that's when I totally broke down. I was so lost in an unfamiliar city, and I just didn't want to be alone anymore. She eventually came back, and she could tell I was upset and frustrated...she was sooo kind and helpful and just so sweet. Together, we eventually found the bus stop (in a very hidden, obscure location if I do say so myself!). But, I'd missed my bus. Another one on the same route was coming in 20 minutes, so I felt relieved! I was 4cents short of the $2.35 required to get on the bus, so I asked another lady for some change. Like a dweeb, I asked for a dime instead of a nickel...not that it reaaalllyy matters, but i was so tired and frustrated by this point that I was confusing my coins. Ohh welll...
I got on the bus, and the bus driver asked me where I was going. I told her it was on my piece of paper in my bag...but I couldn't check because my hands were full. Again, what a dweeb response. Seriously?!?! Haha. I said it because I had 2 bus transfers before I got into Provo. She asked me if I knew where I was going, and I smiled and said yes. She warned me that a bus wasn't coming back to Salt Lake tonight so I'd better be sure. Me, being the stubborn person I am, sat down and was sure I was on the right bus.
After about 5 minutes, I was sure I was on the wrong bus. The Salt Lake was on the right hand side, and after that there was nothing but grass blowing in the wind and towering mountains. I had a sinking feeling and from that moment, I knew something was terribly wrong.
After about 20 minutes, I really started to panic. I didn't even know what direction I was headed, or what city I was in. At this point, I started asking for help. The lady who had lent me some change was on my bus, so I asked her, and she confirmed what I most feared. I was on the wrong bus, headed to an unknown destination, in the middle of no where. I had taken the east bound bus, instead the west bound one that heads into Salt Lake where I was to transfer onto a bus that would take me into Orem and then onto another bus to Provo.
She had to get off the bus, so she could no longer help me. I was sobbing. I couldn't control the tears. I'm sure the other people on the bus were frightened...I was not a pretty picture. Another man came to help me, and told me the next bus into Salt Lake left at 5 am the next morning, and that the bus from there to Provo left at 4 pm. He said he would show me a hotel that I could stay at for the night. I called my dad, and he would not let me stay in the hotel. He was determined to get me home, or at least find someone trustworthy that I could stay with. Turns out, I was in a small town called Tooelle, just south-east of Salt Lake City. The man who had been helping me suggested I get off at WalMart so that I could at least be near the city-center. I thanked him, between sobs, and ran off the bus. As I passed the bus driver, she asked if I would be alright, and I honestly don't remember what I said. I felt like the biggest idiot to ever walk the planet, one because she had tried to warn me, and two because I'm almost 20 years old and I can't even get on the right bus. I was being a little prideful, and sometimes it takes really scary experiences to humble us. I sprinted off the bus, and sat down in front of some restaurant. This is when the real sobbing began. I can honestly say that I had never cried that hard in my entire life. I felt so hopeless, so helpless, and completely, 100% alone.
All this time I had been praying in my heart that I would be safe, that somehow I could get to Provo, and that everything would work out in the end. The sobs kept coming, and I decided to get on my phone and call people. My dad was busy trying to find a solution, so I decided to get to work myself. I didn't find anything, but my dad called and said that the bishop in Tooelle was coming to get me. My dad is a miracle worker, and I am so grateful that he was able to help me in my time of need. I love him so much and am so grateful for him in my life. He blesses my life every single day, even when he doesn't know it.
There I sat, on the curb in front of Cafe Rio. Feeling like a total and complete idiot. The bishop came with his daughter, and picked me up. They were so kind, so compassionate, so generous and helpful and a million other wonderful things. I am so grateful to them for their willingness to serve others. Anywho, they picked me up and took me to their home and welcomed me like a family member. I felt very at home there, in their cute country home. I was introduced to all of the kids there (there were like 50, I swear! :) and every single person was genuinely kind and compassionate. I felt so welcomed despite my sudden and unexpected appearance.
After they ate dinner, some of the kids took me out back to play. You'll never guess what we did.....ha. We went ziplinning! It was hilarious and awesome and I loved it. I gave them piggy back rides from the end to the start so we could go again. They were so sweet and funny and we were fast friends. I guess most of my friends are 8 and under anyways...haha ;)
I forgot the biggest part of the miracle! The bishop's son works in Orem, and he just happened to be going into Orem early the next day. My aunt had offered to pick me up in Tooelle, but I just felt so bad because the drive was so long and she is always helping everyone. She is always so willing, but I knew it would be another thing to add to her already full plate. I told the family that i was so grateful for their hospitality but that my family felt uncomfortable with having me stay in a completely foreign home. And lo and behold, their son offered to drive to Orem that night!! Everything just kept getting more surreal as the day moved on! Before I knew it, we were on our way. Not only did I get home to Provo, but I met a wonderful family, made some cherished friends, and got a beautiful view of the Utah back-country. It was a beautiful, wonderful, surreal, incredible experience, and I am so grateful that I was late enough and dumb enough to hop on the wrong bus headed into Tooelle. It is so amazing me to how the Lord answers our prayers. I had been praying in the weeks earlier for greater compassion, for greater Trust in the Lord, for greater patience and humility. This experience really affected me and helped me to gain those things. I prayed for safety, and I was protected. When you pray, Heavenly Father really does listen, and He is willing to answer if we exercise sufficient faith in Him.
I wrote in my journal that night:
We all depend on each other, and we all depend on our Father in Heaven. I don't need to be so independent all of the time, I need to embrace others by asking for their help! That was a powerful lesson for me, and I am grateful that I experienced it.
I read in my scriptures today, Moroni 7:37. It says:
I don't believe that I was by chance that I read this today. It's not where I'm currently reading. I opened it by accident, and read that exact verse. It's special to me, but I wanted to share it because miracles really do happen. They happen every single day, if you believe that they can. They are possible because we have a Heavenly Father above, who earnestly loves us and wants us to know He is there. Miracles are possible, and they happen every single day, if you are willing to see them. In this crazy world today, with so much confusion and hurry and pain, miracles can seem like they don't exist, but I testify that they do. I am a living testament that they do, and I am so grateful that I had angels watching out for me that day; angels in the form of my family members and friends and strangers who helped me, angels sent from God to protect and comfort me.
Believe that miracles happen, and God will bless you abundantly! Believe that He loves you, and that He wants you to be happy and bless you. I love Him!
love,
emily
At the time, it was not very funny. In fact, it was rather horrifying.
(heads up: this is super long. sorry peeps)
It all started on August 21st, 2012. The day I left California to head back to Provo, UT. It's where I go to school most of the year, and I had been on Summer break at home in good old Escondido. My plane flew out of Los Angeles, from John Wayne Airport. It had been a rough day...as I got out of the car in Cali to head inside the airport, the strap on my biggest bag broke, so I couldn't carry the bag by a handle but instead I had to carry it like a baby. When I got inside the airport, I overheard a airline worker tell another lady she couldn't carry three bags into the plane, even if they were small. I had three small-ish bags myself, and they were stuffed. I did my best, and by some miracle I fit all of the contents of one bag into the other two, AND I was able to squish the left-over bag into another bag. For me, it was seriously a miracle.
Anyways, i got through security without much hassle (another miracle!) and boarded my flight. It was the first flight I had been on where I felt sick most of the way. At one point, I actually grabbed the puke bag, just in case. Fun stuff, right there! It was all goof though. Now I know how most people feel on planes....good for building compassion;)
I got off the plane, searching for the bus stop. I forgot I had to get cash for the bus, so that was one detour. I looked and looked and looked for that darn bus stop, but it was no where to be found. I asked everyone, and no one even knew there was a bus that left from the airport! Finally, I found a worker who said she would ask around and find out for sure. She was gone for a lot long than I had expected, and that's when I totally broke down. I was so lost in an unfamiliar city, and I just didn't want to be alone anymore. She eventually came back, and she could tell I was upset and frustrated...she was sooo kind and helpful and just so sweet. Together, we eventually found the bus stop (in a very hidden, obscure location if I do say so myself!). But, I'd missed my bus. Another one on the same route was coming in 20 minutes, so I felt relieved! I was 4cents short of the $2.35 required to get on the bus, so I asked another lady for some change. Like a dweeb, I asked for a dime instead of a nickel...not that it reaaalllyy matters, but i was so tired and frustrated by this point that I was confusing my coins. Ohh welll...
I got on the bus, and the bus driver asked me where I was going. I told her it was on my piece of paper in my bag...but I couldn't check because my hands were full. Again, what a dweeb response. Seriously?!?! Haha. I said it because I had 2 bus transfers before I got into Provo. She asked me if I knew where I was going, and I smiled and said yes. She warned me that a bus wasn't coming back to Salt Lake tonight so I'd better be sure. Me, being the stubborn person I am, sat down and was sure I was on the right bus.
After about 5 minutes, I was sure I was on the wrong bus. The Salt Lake was on the right hand side, and after that there was nothing but grass blowing in the wind and towering mountains. I had a sinking feeling and from that moment, I knew something was terribly wrong.
After about 20 minutes, I really started to panic. I didn't even know what direction I was headed, or what city I was in. At this point, I started asking for help. The lady who had lent me some change was on my bus, so I asked her, and she confirmed what I most feared. I was on the wrong bus, headed to an unknown destination, in the middle of no where. I had taken the east bound bus, instead the west bound one that heads into Salt Lake where I was to transfer onto a bus that would take me into Orem and then onto another bus to Provo.
She had to get off the bus, so she could no longer help me. I was sobbing. I couldn't control the tears. I'm sure the other people on the bus were frightened...I was not a pretty picture. Another man came to help me, and told me the next bus into Salt Lake left at 5 am the next morning, and that the bus from there to Provo left at 4 pm. He said he would show me a hotel that I could stay at for the night. I called my dad, and he would not let me stay in the hotel. He was determined to get me home, or at least find someone trustworthy that I could stay with. Turns out, I was in a small town called Tooelle, just south-east of Salt Lake City. The man who had been helping me suggested I get off at WalMart so that I could at least be near the city-center. I thanked him, between sobs, and ran off the bus. As I passed the bus driver, she asked if I would be alright, and I honestly don't remember what I said. I felt like the biggest idiot to ever walk the planet, one because she had tried to warn me, and two because I'm almost 20 years old and I can't even get on the right bus. I was being a little prideful, and sometimes it takes really scary experiences to humble us. I sprinted off the bus, and sat down in front of some restaurant. This is when the real sobbing began. I can honestly say that I had never cried that hard in my entire life. I felt so hopeless, so helpless, and completely, 100% alone.
All this time I had been praying in my heart that I would be safe, that somehow I could get to Provo, and that everything would work out in the end. The sobs kept coming, and I decided to get on my phone and call people. My dad was busy trying to find a solution, so I decided to get to work myself. I didn't find anything, but my dad called and said that the bishop in Tooelle was coming to get me. My dad is a miracle worker, and I am so grateful that he was able to help me in my time of need. I love him so much and am so grateful for him in my life. He blesses my life every single day, even when he doesn't know it.
There I sat, on the curb in front of Cafe Rio. Feeling like a total and complete idiot. The bishop came with his daughter, and picked me up. They were so kind, so compassionate, so generous and helpful and a million other wonderful things. I am so grateful to them for their willingness to serve others. Anywho, they picked me up and took me to their home and welcomed me like a family member. I felt very at home there, in their cute country home. I was introduced to all of the kids there (there were like 50, I swear! :) and every single person was genuinely kind and compassionate. I felt so welcomed despite my sudden and unexpected appearance.
After they ate dinner, some of the kids took me out back to play. You'll never guess what we did.....ha. We went ziplinning! It was hilarious and awesome and I loved it. I gave them piggy back rides from the end to the start so we could go again. They were so sweet and funny and we were fast friends. I guess most of my friends are 8 and under anyways...haha ;)
I forgot the biggest part of the miracle! The bishop's son works in Orem, and he just happened to be going into Orem early the next day. My aunt had offered to pick me up in Tooelle, but I just felt so bad because the drive was so long and she is always helping everyone. She is always so willing, but I knew it would be another thing to add to her already full plate. I told the family that i was so grateful for their hospitality but that my family felt uncomfortable with having me stay in a completely foreign home. And lo and behold, their son offered to drive to Orem that night!! Everything just kept getting more surreal as the day moved on! Before I knew it, we were on our way. Not only did I get home to Provo, but I met a wonderful family, made some cherished friends, and got a beautiful view of the Utah back-country. It was a beautiful, wonderful, surreal, incredible experience, and I am so grateful that I was late enough and dumb enough to hop on the wrong bus headed into Tooelle. It is so amazing me to how the Lord answers our prayers. I had been praying in the weeks earlier for greater compassion, for greater Trust in the Lord, for greater patience and humility. This experience really affected me and helped me to gain those things. I prayed for safety, and I was protected. When you pray, Heavenly Father really does listen, and He is willing to answer if we exercise sufficient faith in Him.
I wrote in my journal that night:
Today I was reminded how important it is to ask for help, to be willing to let others into our lives so we both can be blessed. I need to be more willing to let others into my life, i can't just expect them to waltz on in.
We all depend on each other, and we all depend on our Father in Heaven. I don't need to be so independent all of the time, I need to embrace others by asking for their help! That was a powerful lesson for me, and I am grateful that I experienced it.
I read in my scriptures today, Moroni 7:37. It says:
Behold I say unto you...it is by faith that miracles are wrought; and it is by faith that angels appear and minister unto men; wherefore, if these things have ceased wo be unto the children of men, for it is because of their unbelief and all is vain.
I don't believe that I was by chance that I read this today. It's not where I'm currently reading. I opened it by accident, and read that exact verse. It's special to me, but I wanted to share it because miracles really do happen. They happen every single day, if you believe that they can. They are possible because we have a Heavenly Father above, who earnestly loves us and wants us to know He is there. Miracles are possible, and they happen every single day, if you are willing to see them. In this crazy world today, with so much confusion and hurry and pain, miracles can seem like they don't exist, but I testify that they do. I am a living testament that they do, and I am so grateful that I had angels watching out for me that day; angels in the form of my family members and friends and strangers who helped me, angels sent from God to protect and comfort me.
Believe that miracles happen, and God will bless you abundantly! Believe that He loves you, and that He wants you to be happy and bless you. I love Him!
love,
emily
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