Homecoming Talk

Hey everyone! My name is Corinne, and I recently returned from serving as a missionary in the Kentucky Louisville Mission for these past 18 months. The decision to serve came when I was about 15. My family decided to go on a church history tour that year, which included a stop at the Hill Cumorah site. There were two sister missionaries, one of whom was wearing a pair of cowgirl boots. Me being me, of course, went up to the one sister to compliment her boots, and she proceeded to tell me the story behind them.

She was a convert to the church. A friend of hers had introduced her to missionaries, and she wanted to be baptized, but her family was against it. They told her that if she was baptized, she would be disowned. She made the decision to be baptized and was cut off from her family. She went to stay with the friend’s family on their farm, where they were all boys. The first piece of girl’s clothing she received was that same pair of cowgirl boots. Those boots represented a lot of different things: sacrifice, humility, and trust.

I was inspired by this missionary’s faith and touched by her trust in God’s plan and will for her. That experience not only helped me decide to serve my own mission, but it also made me want that same kind of relationship of trust with my Heavenly Father.

I grew up knowing God was real. I knew Christ was my Savior. I knew the scriptures were true. What changed over the course of my mission was not only learning and knowing the gospel but really living it. That’s the hardest part—when you don’t borrow light anymore because it’s time to have your own.

I started with the story of this missionary not just because it has stuck with me all these years, but because the trust required of her to follow what God wanted for her has become the most important lesson I’ve learned on my mission. It’s only when you completely put your trust in the Lord that you come to know Him as He is.

There is a statue at the MTC that I passed by every day during those four weeks that I love. Peter is standing beside a boat with a net in his hand. He seems to be looking straight toward the Savior, ready to drop the net and run to Him, ready to leave his life behind because he believed and trusted that Christ could have something better. Christ is always inviting us to come and follow Him. In that way, He’s saying, “Come, trust I have something to offer that is better than what you had.”

When I first started serving in the field in Louisville, KY, it was a struggle knowing that I was really needed, that what I had to offer could make any difference. My Spanish was far from perfect. I was surrounded by incredible missionaries that I looked up to a lot, including my trainer, and I barely knew the people. What I held on to, what I had hope in, was that I knew what kind of God I had trusted in all my life—a God who knows His children perfectly and personally.

He put me exactly where I was because somehow, someway, He could use me to touch the hearts of the people there. The first two people that made me feel like I was needed were an inactive member, Liz, and her daughter, Leany. We started visiting them weekly and became fast friends.

Leany would come with us to the temple. One night, we came out from doing baptisms and just sat and talked. She’d had some challenges recently with family and school, and she said being there at the temple with us was exactly what she’d needed. I related a lot to her and was so proud of her for taking the time to just be where she could find some peace.

What made the difference for me with those two was I felt like I helped them really understand just how aware God was of them and how much He loved them. Even though I couldn’t speak fluently or make one of Liz’s baleada tortillas to save my life, I knew I could at least be a friend to Leany. I could bear a simple testimony from the heart. I could love them.

The thing is, we all have something to offer, as imperfect, broken, or messy as it may be. That’s Christ’s mission. We wouldn’t need a Savior if we didn’t have shortcomings and weaknesses. But we need Jesus Christ, and we need His grace that can perfect any imperfect offering.

One of my favorite stories from the Bible is the feeding of the five thousand. Christ says: “They need not depart; give ye them to eat.” Verse 17: “And they say unto him, We have here but five loaves, and two fishes.” “He said, Bring them hither to me.” And then the miracle takes place. Verse 20: “And they did all eat, and were filled: and they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full.”

Throughout all the stories found in the Bible, it seems that where there is lack, God works miracles. That’s what He did for me. He took what I gave Him and magnified it. Heavenly Father doesn’t just expect effort—He expects us to trust in what He can do with that effort. Five loaves and two fishes to feed five thousand and then to have 12 baskets full. That’s the kind of God I trust in.

There was a member in the fifth branch, Silvana, and she had some health issues she was going through. Her surgery was coming up when we went to visit her before I would leave the area. She told me something I’ll never forget. When she first found out about the issues, she was scared, and she felt hurt that while she was trying to do everything right and live the gospel, God would let this happen to her.

But now, she said, she asks a different question. Instead of “Why?” she asks, “For what?” God always has reasons. He’s a “because” and “for” God. Sometimes He lets us know the reason; other times, He doesn’t. But when I can’t fill in the reason, I trust in the “because” and “for.” That there is a purpose, a reason to it all, and one of those reasons will always be because God loves me.

I think of the example of my friend Mario from my second transfer. He struggled with not being able to know and understand everything all at once. He didn’t know if he knew enough. I remember our first call with him. His camera was dark; we didn’t have any idea who he was, but we taught him that night a little about repentance, and I felt the Spirit present.

We continued to teach him, and he started coming to church and becoming friends with the members. There was a change in him—a light. It was so apparent that God was working in his life. He was happier. He laughed and joked. He participated in lessons.

We had one lesson with him when he told us about his worries in not knowing everything. I wished I could show him what I saw, what I knew God could see. He knew the important things—not all the reasons, but he knew enough. The Spirit was so strong in that moment when I looked at him and told him, “Mario, you know enough. You don’t know everything right now, and that’s OK.”

It was an invitation to choose faith. And he did. At his baptism, he bore his own strong testimony—sincere and simple—and the trust in God was there.

I could stand here and tell you so many stories of people coming to God, coming to trust Him: Maite finding hope in seeing her mom again; Diana and Hermides starting from nothing in a new country but holding on to their faith in God’s will for their family; Maria feeling the Spirit’s light enter her life; Antony coming to understand his worth in God’s eyes.

I love these people with all my heart, and all of the people of Kentucky and Indiana. Their testimonies have strengthened my own. But what I treasure the most is my own story that Jesus has been a part of since day one.

My own story of learning to trust in God: a quiet field and a sunset, a small apartment’s living room, the temple under stars, on my knees at my bedside. These places, these people—they mean everything to me. They taught me to trust Him.