On February 26, 1997, I awoke in Provo, UT at my friend Pat's apartment (after talking together long into the night). We prepared for the day, my friend Briton came for a short visit, and then my sister Patti came to take me and Pat down the road a way to the MTC. And we went inside. And there was a badge with my name on it waiting for me. Until I got the badge, I had felt that I was kind of dreaming up this whole "going on a mission" thing, and that we'd get there and there would be no badge and they'd tell me to go home to Tennessee and start school again in the Fall. But there was a badge, so we went in, and at the end of the orientation, Pat and Patti (and Uncle Tim and cousin Tom) left through one door and I went through the other, and...my full-time mission service began.
On February 26, 2014, exactly 17 years later, I gathered up multitudes of souvenirs, scrapbooks, maps, clothes, a CD and a couple tapes, and even a pot of Rooibos tea and some Romany Creams, that all reminded me of my time as a missionary in Capetown, South Africa, and I got to share it with the Activity Day girls in my ward. I had way too much to share with them in the tiny time allotted to me, but just being able to go through my mission things bought back so many memories and a renewed gratitude for the chance that I had to serve.
One of the things the organizers of the activity asked us presenters to include was the "why"-- why we chose to go on a mission. I think that for me, my "why" began back when I was in Primary, and I went to an activity very similar to the one that I was now helping with. I was assigned to Japan, and we learned some Japanese words, and ate some Japanese food, and I thought, "I am totally
(this was the 80's) going on a mission! I'm going to see the world!" And then I grew up and learned that sometimes missionaries are called to serve quite close to home--or even to Utah (!), and if seeing the world was what I wanted, I needed to do it a different way.
When I was 17 or 18, I was able to get my Patriarchal Blessing. It did mention preaching the gospel, and it did mention other countries. I thought, "Hooray! I get to go on a mission!" And then I realized that there was no timeline mentioned. And there was nothing about a formal full-time mission. I decided that I should just prepare to serve, and if the opportunity came, then I would be ready, but if it wasn't meant to be when I was 21, then nothing would have really gone to waste.
Just after I turned 20, at the beginning of the winter semester, I went to a prospective missionary fireside at BYU. Everyone was welcome, and I am pretty sure I went to spend time with some guys in my ward. Going on a mission was still rolling around in my mind, but I actually would rather get married, if that could (please, please) happen first. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland was the speaker. To begin, he asked everyone who had a mission call already to stand. Then he asked everyone who would be or could be getting one in the next year to stand. It took me a minute to realize that I was in that group, and as I stood, I knew that it was really time to make the decision.
I started praying. I started planning my future school schedule, since they were changing my program, and if I stayed, I could finish the old one, and if I left, I'd have more work to complete the new one. I started asking for advice. I started fasting for the ability to recognize the answer. This was not a fast process. I finished the semester, still unsure of what I would do. I decided to register for the next semester as well as start working on mission papers.
Finally, during the summer, I felt that my prayer was answered, and it was in an unusual way. I believe that the Lord turned the decision over to me. I felt that He would be pleased with me if I went, and He would be pleased with me if I stayed. So, since I wanted to go, I decided to go, and I was finally at peace. I had been reflecting a lot on how blessed my life was, and why, and I knew that a large number of the blessings I counted came from me and my family living the gospel. The thought that I could give that gift to someone else made my heart so happy.
In the middle of the next semester, I turned in my papers, and one day, when I came home from class for a lunch break, I found a large white envelope on my bed, and none of my roommates were at the apartment, and none of my sisters or my mom or dad or roommates answered their phones, and the envelope was only sealed on one corner, so I couldn't resist, and I opened that envelope all alone in the living room, and I sank to the floor when I read that I was going to serve in Capetown, South Africa, and I knew that it was right.
I told a condensed version of this story to the girls, focusing on the part of being able to bless other families with the gospel. I do wish, however, that I remembered to tell them that they don't actually have to serve a full-time mission to be able to bless people in that way. I was so blessed to be able to go, and I am so much better as a person in many ways for my time as a missionary, but it's not the only way, and for many girls, it's not the way at all. And that is just fine.
I am so glad that I got to go. I'm glad I get to go again with Ben with a little more life experience and a little less fear of being bold under my belt. We'd love to go back to Africa, or to Belgium where he served, but I know we'd be happy to serve anywhere--even in Utah.
