She’s Home!

April 8, 2026

The past couple of weeks have been a bit of a blur, and I’m just trying to catch my breath.

But first things first: SHE’S HOME!

And by “she,” I mean Hermana Sheppard, who returned from the Georgia Atlanta Mission on March 20. It was a day never to be forgotten, beginning with a 6 am phone call from the Atlanta airport.

“Mom, we missed our flight because the security line was four hours long. President Cox stayed with us the entire time and called Salt Lake to get us on a later flight, but I will be arriving in Phoenix a few hours later than originally planned.”

Spring Break and TSA shortages do not make a good pair.

We did some shuffling of our plans, and all arrived at the airport before she landed. (Elise flew in from Utah the night before, and the rest of our kids + spouses + grandkids are in Arizona and were able to meet us at the airport.)

Hugging her after 18 months was, of course, amazing! Those are the best hugs!

And then it was off to In-N-Out, her requested first meal, as the popular burger chain does not have a presence in Georgia.

With no seating at the In-N-Out, we decided to get our food to-go and eat it at Andrew and Deanna’s apartment, which was just a few minutes from the restaurant. On our way through downtown Mesa, we stopped at a stoplight, where a man was waiting to cross the street. Kate rolled down the window and yelled, “Jesus loves you!” in his direction.

The girl we sent out to serve 18 months ago would NEVER have done anything like that. Her confidence in sharing God’s love with strangers on the street was inspiring.

After lunch, we piled back into the car and headed toward our stake center, about an hour away, to meet President Dennis, who would officially release her from missionary service. A few minutes into the drive, she began to sob, giant tears falling down her face like rain.

Caught off guard, I asked, “Are you okay?”

Through gasping tears, these words somehow escaped her lips: “I want to be back on my mission.”

This was all a lot to process on the three hours of sleep she had the night before, four hours in a security line, a missed flight, a cross-country journey, and being reunited with family after 18 months.

My heart broke a little, not because she would rather be back on her mission than at home with us (that told me all I needed to know about the kind of missionary she was), but because I knew that taking off that tag would be one of the hardest things she had ever done.

Side note: these shoes have stories to tell! I want to frame them to remind me of what it means to walk with God.

When we walked into the church and down the hallway housing the stake offices, we ran straight into a group of missionaries (including one of our favorites, who used to serve in our ward) who had just finished district council. Kate’s eyes were red and swollen from crying as we introduced her to our missionary friends.

I have no doubt that at least some of them understood the complicated emotions she was trying to process. And then, President Dennis came out of his office and invited her in to visit with him for a few minutes.

When she came out, the tag was gone, but the tears remained.

He invited us to sit in the high council room, where he asked each of us to share one change we had seen in Kate since she left on her mission. We talked about everything from confidence to charity to learning to rely on Jesus Christ through life’s ups and downs. It was a sweet, full-circle moment.

Somehow, 18 months were simultaneously long, short, and packed with the most positive change one person could imagine.

I have seen that change take place in four of my kids so far, and it never ceases to amaze me. I send them out as teenagers, trusting them in the Lord’s care, and watch them return as valiant disciples of Him whose name they had the privilege of wearing on their chest for 18 months to two years.

Saying goodbye for that length of time is obviously hard, but it is a sacrifice I would make a million times over. And, when I see the miracles that the Lord can work in and through one teenager, it doesn’t feel like much of a sacrifice at all. It feels like the greatest privilege and blessing of my life to have a front-row seat to see His glory unfolding in their lives.

Sometimes, the magic happens when we let go, trusting God to do His work in our kids.

Adjusting to real life after a mission is hard because, as Kate has expressed many times, “I don’t know what my purpose is anymore, but it can’t possibly be greater than it was when I was spending all of my time serving the Lord.”

It will take her some time to figure out what comes next.

But for now, I am treasuring the time I have her home, the missionary fire that still burns in her soul, and the example she sets for me as I face my own shifting purpose and uncertain future.

I wish I could serve a mission right now, but I guess I will have to settle for sending one final son out into the field. His mission papers will be submitted on April 15, and we will start this whole process again.

I can’t wait to find out where he will serve. But more importantly, I look forward to witnessing the Lord’s transformative power at work in his life as he serves.

God is SO good!

**Read the rest of this journaling series here