Searching for Signal

A little while ago, a big group of friends (a Nauvoo reunion for those of you who know what that is) went down to Southern Utah for an adventure. Monday morning: sandwiches packed, granola bars in hand, maps at the ready, everyone was set to drive to our destination trail head to start the hike. We stop at the visitor's center to clarify our route, and I look at my phone to check the time.

 A little bit of back story: for the past month, I've been desperately job searching. I'd been rejected, I'd exhausted my resources, and the only jobs I got were "direct advertising" and "financial planning" which is euphemistic for Sam's Club and Insurance sales.

I was waiting to hear back from my ONE, LAST, HOPE for summer employment. I'd interviewed with them the week before and they told me they'd let me know by the beginning of the next week.

So here we are, Monday at 11:00am. I have one missed call, from an unknown Utah number, and a new voice message. But I can't check the voice mail because we have NO service in the depths of Capital Reef National Park. 

You can imagine my distress. What if they're calling me to tell me I didn't get it? Or what if they're calling to say I did?! What if they need me to call them back ASAP with.. I don't know...insurance info? Or a work-email password? Or my shoe size? I've never had a real-life grown-up job--that could be a thing.

So my sweet friend, David Thunell, offers to drive me out of the canyon until I get service so I can check my voice mail and hear my fate for the rest of the summer. Everyone lovingly complies and agrees to wait for us at the base of the trailhead. We wind slowly out of the canyon, with little bits of cell service, coming in and out. My angst growing by the second. Finally we reach a place with a comfortable 3 bars, and I call my voice mail and hear the demonic, automated words:

"You've reached the voice mail box of ____Averill Corkin__ Please leave a message" BEEP

"Thunell!" I panic, "There's something wrong. When I call my voice mail, it won't let me check it, it wants me to leave a message. This has never happened before."

"We can call it on my phone. Do you know your password?"

"No." I'm useless. My future career is a button click away, and the stupid button won't click correctly!

"Here, I'll leave you another message" He calls me on his phone, we hear: "You've reached the voice mail box of ____Averill Corkin__ Please leave a message. BEEP"

"Sister Corkin!" In his best pick-up-line voice (which is very smooth, Thunell, by the way), "How bout you and I hang out a little bit later, ya? I'll call you later to make sure you say yes ;)"

New Voice Message appears on my screen. I click the button. 

What I should hear is "You have two new Voice messages. To listen to your messages press one" but instead I hear, "You've reached the voice mail box of ____Averill Corkin__ Please leave a message" BEEP

GAH!

We turned off and on the phone, we checked my data, we checked my email, everything we could think of. My heart was pounding faster by the minute.  

Finally the message came through as a visual voicemail. I listened with baited breath. Then gave the OK to drive back to the trailhead and report the news to my family waiting there. 

As we pulled in, the YPMs gathered around the car with hopeful faces. Whisperings of "did she get it?"..."she's smiling!" ..."That's a good sign!" until I popped out of the car and reported:

"That was Michelle, from the office on State Street" 

"And...?"

"And she was calling to remind me I have an orthodontist appointment tomorrow at 2:00"

Everyone burst out laughing with relief and grief at the same time. We then had a wonderful hike and a wonderful weekend. 

And when 2:00 rolled around the next afternoon, I spaced and missed my orthodontist appointment completely. 

Some more highlights from the weekend: 

 We played with paddle boats...

We stayed at a wonderfully hospitable bed and breakfast. Tried not to scare away the other guests. although around 4-6 am it was a little sketchy. 

Through a series of small miracles, we got the opportunity to sing for a number of people--and share our testimonies of Jesus Christ through music, which is... well... what we do.

We played sardines and capture the flag in Goblin Valley. (If any of you have ever tried to play sardines midst a sea of giant boulders that all look exactly the same, you understand my hesitancy in recommending that game.) Capture the flag was brilliantly intense. Pretty sure Elder Collier's still got the scars to prove it.








We found a cool mini amphitheater, where we sang again. of course. any chance we get.







Truly, I don't think I could love these people any more.