Do you have past versions of yourself you tend to block from memory?
One of mine is when I was a Mormon missionary in Hawaii for 18 months — and for a few reasons.
In more recent years, it’s partly because I’m uncomfortable with the fact that I, a white girl from Utah who knew next to nothing about the world, spent a year and a half in Hawaii at the age of 19 trying to tell people what to believe and how to live their lives. (So, so many questionable layers to unpack there.)
But even after returning from my mission nearly a decade ago, I felt immense shame. There’s a lot of pressure put on missionaries by the church to succeed, find miracles, and basically save the world one person at a time. And I felt that I had fallen short. I wasn’t a missionary who moved mountains or brought dozens upon dozens of people to Jesus. I did my darnedest to be as perfect as possible for a year and a half, but it could never be enough.
For a lot of reasons, despite an extremely formative experience that changed the course of my life, I tend to avoid thinking about my missionary self. It’s painful.
But this past week, with the news of the devastating wildfires on Maui, it all came back to me.
My actual missionary assignment was to the Laie Hawaii Temple Visitors’ Center on North Shore Oahu. Ever been to or heard of Temple Square in Salt Lake City? It’s like that but in Hawaii. People from around the world stop by to see this landmark and I was there with a flock of other missionaries to greet them and teach them (in matching floor-length, blue floral muumuus, no less).
I spent the majority of my mission there, apart from a few months when I was sent “full-field” to have the more typical missionary experience. And where was I sent?
A small, historic town on the west side of Maui called Lahaina.
When I got my full-field assignment, basically all I was told about Lahaina was that it’s very hot and dry. I found that to be true, but I also found much, much more.
Prior to being sent to Lahaina, I had lived my entire life in a Mormon bubble. This includes the area I was previously serving in at the Temple Visitors’ Center on Oahu. (Laie, Hawaii is a very Mormon town, with the iconic temple, BYU-Hawaii, and the church-owned Polynesian Cultural Center located there.)
Lahaina quickly burst my bubble. At the Temple Visitors’ Center, I knew how to be a tour guide and put on a show for guests. In Lahaina, I had no idea how to connect with and teach people whose lives looked so different from my own, and who often faced challenges I was incapable of comprehending. I was embarrassingly unequipped.
I did my best to put on a strong, confident front as we proselyted and attempted to speak to everyone we crossed paths with. I did my best to learn about and understand the beautifully rich culture and its nuances. But most of the time, it was painfully obvious that at the end of the day, I was just a 19-year-old white girl from Utah who probably didn’t really belong there.
And yet despite my constant failings and flops, the people I met and got to know never made me feel like I didn’t belong there. In the very real spirit of aloha, they showered me with unconditional love and invited me into their lives and homes. They fed me. They taught me. They laughed generously when I didn’t understand their pidgin, and helped me get up to pace. They insisted that I call them “Uncle” or “Auntie.” They gave me the biggest hugs and cheek kisses of my life. And when it came time for me to leave Lahaina, they covered me in leis and sang farewell to me. When I returned after my mission to visit, they showered me with love all over again.
Note: Privacy is important to me, so I’m not posting photos of my Lahaina friends here without being able to get their permission. But I love them dearly.
This past week, a wildfire engulfed Lahaina, destroying nearly the entire town and killing more than 90 people, making it the most deadly fire in modern U.S. history.
When I first heard about the fire, I wasn't aware of the scale and didn't think too much of it — given how hot and dry Lahaina is, wildfires aren't entirely out of place.
When I saw that the town's famous 150-year-old massive banyan tree, a symbol of the community, had been scorched in the fires, it started to sink in for me. This was something different. This was devastating. This was harrowing.
As I read the news and saw photos and videos of the wildfire’s destruction, I thought of the people in Lahaina who had loved me and brought me into their homes. Those people who had loved me had to flee for their lives while their homes and the lives they knew were burned to the ground.
For years, I blocked my missionary self from my mind out of shame. I could never be a perfect enough missionary, and then I felt icky about having been a missionary there at all. But in blocking it all from memory, I was also blocking out the love I had been given in Lahaina.
I think for most of my life I’ve operated under this notion that love needed to be earned. I had to be a certain way — namely, perfect — in order to be deserving of love. To be honest, I’m still working on unlearning this.
But in Lahaina, I learned that love can be a way of being. I met so many people who embody love and give it freely, no questions asked. It’s simply how they live their lives. They are love. It pours out of them.
We’re all human, we’re all flawed, we’re all imperfect, we all have our own issues under the surface. And we also all need love.
It doesn’t feel real that the Lahaina I knew is now gone. Hundreds of people are still missing. Thousands will be rebuilding their lives for years to come. But I’m confident that the love of Lahaina will always remain. And all I can do is try to offer my love in return.
If you are able, please join me in donating to Lahaina’s aid. They are people who love and give freely — this I know — and we must do the same now when they need our love most.
Here are some trusted organizations and campaigns to donate to for Lahaina’s relief:
This community-organized spreadsheet has a comprehensive list of families to donate directly to as well as additional organizations and small businesses who are supporting the cause.
If you are aware of other ways to help Lahaina, please share!
I was in the middle of drafting this when Facebook reminded me that I was in Lahaina as a missionary nine years ago this month — and, even wilder, that I returned from my mission eight years ago *today.*
Aloha nui loa,
Maryn (is sending love)
Thank you, Maryn. Your writing is beautiful and thought-provoking!
Love really is powerful! What an amazing experience to feel it so genuinely given and lived by these precious souls.