I am pioneer.

I thought the title of this post sounded pretty epic, like I am legend or something. So I'm goin' with it. We just got back Saturday evening around 6 pm from a pioneer youth trek! My body aches, my mosquito bites itch, my lips are all swollen and blistered from being sunburned. But I feel good! It was a sacred and wonderful experience. Before we get down to the nitty gritty, I have to tell you that one of the real highlights for me was yesterday at church when a girlfriend of mine from the ward came up to me and laughing related to me that one of the boys in our "pioneer family" told her son who was also on trek that, Yeah so the Christensens were my parents, and when I turned around and looked at them at Martin's Cove, they were like totally making out!! Can you believe that?!

Jason and I make it a point to "make out" at sacred places. It's like that Seinfeld episode when Jerry and his girlfriend are caught making out during Schindler's list. Except that on that episode, it really happened. This bit of gossip is awesomely hilarious on too many levels to even talk about. I told her I'm lending out my pioneer outfit to women who need to spice up their marriages, because obviously Jason couldn't keep his hands off me in mine. I also suggest not showering and laboring outdoors, working up as much sweat and BO as possible. The mojo really flows. I start laughing out loud every time it comes back into my mind. Just imagining the whole steamy scene of us surrounded by 160 youth and fellow youth leaders.

Okay, back to seriousness. My husband and I went as a "Ma and Pa". And for those of you who aren't familiar with it, they organize all the youth (ages 12-18) into "families" and ask married couples (for our stake there was 18 couples) to be Mas and Pas over each family. We had 9 youth in our family. So we left our Lucy and Scarlett with their aunty here in Utah and set off with a school bus full of teens Thursday morning at 5 AM towards a city I like to call middle of nowhere, Wyoming. And the bus ride looked something like this: Okay, fine, exactly like this. And if you couldn't tell from the angle this shot was taken, yes... we were in the very back row.

We had to meet at the church at 4 AM btw. Just want you to know how seriously I take my toughness. I like it black. No sugar, no cream.

For 3 days we had no cell phones, no ipods, no TV, no electronics of any kind (that was one of my favorite parts). We had no showers, no flushable toilets, and no mirrors. We camped. We "treked". We went a total of about 15 miles, pulled handcarts for 10 of them. We dressed like pioneers. We square danced. We met as families often and shared spiritual and strengthening experiences. The purpose of going on trek is to gain a stronger testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, to appreciate more the sacrifice and suffering that took place among the early saints of the restoration of the church, and to come home committed to live better lives. Goals were accomplished. Lives were changed.

For just a bit of history now. In 1856 two companies of Mormon handcart pioneers named the Willie and the Martin handcart companies left Iowa City bound for Salt Lake City, where the saints were called to gather and settle. (To read more, go to this site. It has some good pictures and more of the history.) In short, they left late in the season and ultimately many company members died along the way due to starvation, disease, and freezing to death. The most suffering occurred in Wyoming when an early blizzard came upon an already severely weakened group. As soon as Brigham Young knew about the two companies still on the trail, he sent out rescue parties to bring them into Salt Lake.

"...men, women, and children worn down by drawing handcarts through snow and mud are fainting by the wayside; falling chilled by the cold; children crying, their limbs stiffened by cold, their feet bleeding and some of them bare to snow and frost. The sight is almost too much for the stoutest of us, but we go on doing all we can, not doubting or despairing. Our company is too small to help much, it is only a drop in a bucket, as it were, in comparison to what is needed. I think that not over one-third of Mr. Martin's company is able to walk. This you may think is an extravagant, but it is nevertheless true...."

John Chislett of the Willie Company wrote:

"Cold weather, scarcity of good, lassitude and fatigue from over-exertion, soon produced their effects. Our old and infirm people began to droop, and they no sooner lost their spirit and courage than death's stamp could be traced upon their features. Life went out as smoothly as a lamp ceases to burn when the oil is gone. Death was not long confined in its ravages to the old and infirm, but the young and naturally strong were among its victims. Men who were, so to speak, as strong as lions when we started on our journey, and who had been our best supports, were compelled to succumb to the grim monster. These men were worn down by hunger, scarcity of clothing and bedding, and too much labor in helping their families. It was surprising to an unmarried man to witness the devotion of men to their families and to their faith, under these trying circumstances. Many a father pulled his cart, with his little children on it, until the day preceding his death. I have seen some pull their carts in the morning, give out during the day, and die before next morning..."

We visited the areas where they suffered the most. We heard story after story of individuals who gave all they had, who found their children or spouses frozen to death when morning came, who had to bury their little ones all along the trail. We went to the very places where they had to bury the most of their family members. And the spirit in these places was amazingly strong. I bawled like a baby for about 80% of the three days, thankful for my wee little' bonnet to pull down over my face.

We laughed so much with these kids. I really wanted to adopt all 9 of them by the time our short time together was up. Some have come from really difficult family circumstances. We saw heroism in these young people. And I don't think we give them enough credit. On one part of the trail the men gathered together and walked ahead to the top of a huge hill. This was called the women's pull, in remembrance of the women who had to carry on alone when their husbands died, many times pulling their small, sickly children by themselves. We sisters stayed behind and one of the sister missionaries told us a story of a sister who pulled her sick and dying brother in the handcart for a good portion of the journey west. When all of us girls finally caught up with the men and boys, they were standing on both sides of the trail in complete silence and had been asked to just turn and walk behind us as we continued pushing on. It was a very solemn moment. The spirit was incredibly strong. As we continued to walked along one of our boys who will turn 16 soon turned back to his leaders and in a pleading tone of voice, referring to the handcart, asked, Can I take it from them yet? Can we help yet? It was hard for these boys to watch their sisters pushing that handcart up that mountain. It was such a tender experience. One I'll never forget.

Francis Webster of the Martin Handcart company said, "We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? Every one of us came through with absolute knowledge that God loves for we became acquainted with Him in our extremities. I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, 'I can go only that far and there I must give up for I cannot pull the load through it'. I have gone to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me! I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the Angels of God were there. Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No! Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company."

The suffering of these early pioneers was not in vain. There was great purpose in it. They did not have to come west. These ones in particular knew that death would be looming over them if they went because they left so late in the season. They chose to go anyway. They went because they knew it was all true. They knew that the heavens were opened once again and God the Father and His only begotten Son Jesus Christ had restored the fullness of their gospel to the earth again in these latter days in preparation for the second coming of the Savior of the world. They knew that Joseph Smith in reality had been called to be a prophet and that just as in times of old, God spoke once again through prophets and apostles and lead His church through the priesthood authority that had been lost for so many years but restored to the earth again. They had unshakable testimonies of these things, for the same reasons I do. Because the Spirit of the Lord had confirmed these truths to their hearts, just as it has to mine so many, many times. They were willing to die for the sake of truth. I hope to be as courageous. I hope to have just a portion of the faith in Jesus Christ that they had. The Lord performed many many miracles among them, and angels were sent to lift them up. And just as Paul states in Phillipians, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me".

I can do hard things in this life, too. I can be strong and faithful no matter what challenges may come. I always want to remember them and all that they gave.