Missionaries, mountains, and mafia

I have officially been here at training for a week and a half.  And that seems a little crazy.  So much time, but so little time. There is no way to cover the last few days in a short post, but I will try.  

This past weekend, a friend invited a group of us to visit Mt. Evans.  The car ride began early in the morning, but within what seemed like moments, bright yellow aspens flew by us in every window.  I am honestly surprised we did not drive off the side of the cliff in our amazement at the colors.  Giddiness in the beauty ranged from jumping up and down to evil laughs.  My eyes were entranced with the greens, oranges, reds, and yellows, and the snow-capped mountains  as we climbed up, up, up into the atmosphere.

Mt. Evans.  Snow.  Lakes.  Towering above miles and miles and miles of other mountains and other lands.  It made me feel so small.  In our Growth groups here at training, we have discussed how that is such a wonderful thing- recognizing that we need to realize who we are and how grandiose this world is.  How often do I get stressed, anxious, preocupada, when I get caught up in "my world" rather than remembering I am just a part of "the world"?  I am so thankful He has got this.

The weekend ended with a Sunday night of mafia.  Mafia with missionaries.  There were spouses turning on spouses, debates that lasted minutes, narration at its finest, and laughter that never ever stopped. If I wasn't so focused at trying to prove my innocence every round (apparently getting excited about the game will give everyone a reason claim your guilt for the rest of eternity), I would have just loved to sit and watch.  I cannot explain my love of this simple silliness and togetherness.  The people here are amazing, and it has been so wonderful connecting with people that so easily understand some of your deepest losses, fears, and loves.  

I have oh so much sleep that is needed, and oh so much mafia strategy to plan.  Look out.

Love and blue birds,
Keri