In three days I will be getting on a plane to travel for two days to reach the Missionary Training Center in Ghana. I will be there for four weeks learning French and how to teach, and then it is off to Madagascar for 18 months! I will be a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and hope that I will be able to go out and serve and make peoples lives better. Here below is the story of how I decided to leave on a mission. I know it is lengthy, so read at your own risk, but I did not want to leave out any details and I hope that at least some will enjoy it:)
So when I first got my mission call
I took the time to write down my story, but I lost that journal which depressed
me for a while, and so I am sorry that it took me so long to finally write it
down again. I hope that whenever I, or
anyone, reads it that in spite of any failings of my own (in lacking powerful
language in writing) the Spirit will be able to testify that what I write is
true.
As a quick
background tale (I feel like that at this point anyone who knows me well will
be laughing because people think I always start my stories way farther back
then is really necessary—but it feels necessary to me), growing up I never gave
much thought to going on a mission. It
never really appealed to me in any particular way, and I was more than content
with being taught in church that my first priority was to be married and to be
a wife and mother. However, two
different times for a brief moment (a period of about a week each time) I had
some sort of feminist feelings rise up in my heart where I was indignant on
principle that girls had to wait until they were 21 to go on a mission (it seemed
unfair that boys could go at 19 and come back so young but that sisters
couldn’t—I thought “what girl would make it to 21 unmarried?”), but these
feelings quickly and easily passed back into complacency. What did it matter to me? I had no intentions of going anyways.
I went to
BYU fall of 2011 and set about my intentions (to marry) nobly ;)—a quick caveat
here for people who do not know me as well is that I promise I was not solely
devoting my time to any shameless “man hunting” as it were; I was and am very
serious about my education as well as loving many extracurricular activities
such as training/performing with a youth ballet company, competing in ballroom
dance, being in BYU’s wind symphony, taking gymnastics, learning new languages
and much more. I had a boy who wished to
marry me that first year, but I didn’t feel ready and kept asking him to
wait. In the end I guess I was just too
young and it didn’t work out. The next
year my efforts were just as strong, and this time I was a little more mature,
a little more sensitive, and had a greater appreciation for what it really
meant to try to find an eternal companion.
When
President Thomas S. Monson (the head of our church—The Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter Day Saints—announced at General Conference last October (2012) that
the age at which young women in the church could serve a mission was to be
changed to 19, I would have expected myself to be pleasantly surprised and
moderately curious about which of my friends would end up going. Instead, I just about had an involuntary
heart-attack as I listened to his words.
The announcement occurred on Saturday and my family was already up in
Salt Lake to watch the morning session, but I had had a rehearsal that morning
for the Nutcracker that I couldn’t miss so I staid behind. We were rehearsing the beginning of Act II
when our ballet headmistress (Jennie Creer-King) came in and told us that she
had an announcement. She had been
listening to Conference on the computer in her office and had heard the
prophetic announcement about the missionary age and had run out to share. As she told us that women could now go at 19
the pit in my stomach dropped farther than I ever remember it dropping before,
and my very first thought was “Crap!
That cannot mean that I have
to go!”
I had just
turned 19 that August, so naturally it came as a shock I suppose. That feeling struck with me all day—in fact
it persisted for nearly two weeks. I
literally felt sick and overwhelmed. I
called Alyssa Despain right away—all that any young girl seemed to be able to
talk about for the next few months was the question of going on a mission—and
asked her what she thought. We both
assured each other that we had no intentions of going.
I was wrong
in doing so, but I was so scared that the feeling I had was a prompting that
ignored it until it went away. Once I
felt safely myself again I decided to pray about it, and I could not have less surprised when I received no
answer. While still in denial, I
recognized that I had ignored the Spirit knowingly and that it was my own fault
that I was answerless. So, I shrugged my
shoulders, put it out of my mind and went on with my life.
Near the
end of November the thought slowly crept back into my mind. I talked a lot about it with Austin Young
actually. Soon I started to pray about
it again, and even committed to going to mission prep classes. You see, at this point I went through a
frustrated stage. The young men are
prepared to think about going on a mission from the time that they are 12 (really since they are born); whereas the girls… our
focus is the temple an marriage. I felt
angry because I did not feel that I had the right to an answer. What had I done to prepare? Nothing. I felt like I hadn’t done my part to deserve
an answer (that is why I started attending mission prep—though half-heartedly I
must admit so it was never very productive)—frustrated I again pushed the topic
from my mind. (Although here I feel the
need to add in that intellectually I realized that in a way I had been
preparing my whole life just by being righteous and preparing to be worthy for
the temple. The frustration was in the
different focus I guess… (mission vs.
marriage)).
Christmas
passed blissfully and I was back at school without a further thought of
missions. Then, slowly but surely, the
thought re-entered my mind. I decided
that I really wanted to think about what a mission was this time. What did it mean to give up 18 months of your
life to serve the Lord? What did you do
out there? What experiences would I
have?
I struck me
that this really was an incredible opportunity placed before me, that not many
people have the chance to do. As this
thought sunk deep into my heart, my thoughts about going on a mission began to
take on a more serious nature—it was no small or insignificant choice I was
tossing around here—it was a life changing decision and I didn’t want to make
it lightly because I did not want to face regrets later in life from lost
opportunities.
I started
taking my question to the temple. I went
four or five times by myself in February and stayed for hours trying to focus
on praying and receiving an answer. But
my heart still was too hardened against the idea to really receive a good
answer, and I knew it at the time. But
still I tried. I stayed so long I often
fell asleep in the pew waiting. Finally,
that last time I went with my question, I left with a vague feeling as an
answer that said to me “It is your choice.
You can go or not. Both are fine
decisions.” This is NOT what I wanted.
By this point I was ready for some clear, definitive, earth-shaking answer from
God telling me “Yes!” or “No!” to going.
I was ready then to listen to a firm answer, but it was not to be. No, I received the simple and obvious answer
that it was my choice and remained dissatisfied (what a loon). So, I again decided to push the topic from my
mind—although, at that point (I believe I can honestly say) that somewhere deep
down I knew that I wouldn’t be satisfied until I chose to go.
Again, time
passed by normally with school, dancing, relationships, etc. It wasn’t until late march/April that a new
twist arose. I have never been one to be
easily jealous—it is simply not a feeling I experience very often (perhaps I am
too vain), so it was very disturbing to me when I felt my whole soul being
really overcome with angry jealousy and hatred even whenever anyone spoke about
their mission. You have to understand
that people talk about missions all of
the time at BYU. I was also dating
Ian at the time, and he had me over at many Polish missionary
get-togethers. I was so jealous at the
bond that missionaries had with each other over the experiences they
shared. I did not like this part of my
journey—it does not feel good to want to smack people every time they get
excited about their mission… Well, next (that summer) I went far away into the
western desert of Utah for work.
Now here
I’ll again add some extensive background information;) I was hired by the Federal government through
BYU to work as a field technician on wildlife research projects out on the
army/training base there. We lived in a
trailer in the canyon near the edge of the base (wilderness) during the week
and were only in Provo on the weekend –so there was a lot of time for me to
think and to be alone. It is such a
beautiful feeling to be completely alone in a vast desert –there are not many
things more serene than finding yourself hiking across the sand dunes with a
full 360 degree view of the valley/salt flats, as the sun is setting and the
night is coming on (coming back from setting up small mammal traps) –it is a
quick transition but it leaves you feeling incredibly alive and blessed. I really was blessed I so many ways to have
that job this past summer. I learned—on
a small scale—what I think it must have been like to live back in the days when
the majority of people earned their living laboring outside. I think it has to be one of the healthiest
lifestyles there is. I have never felt
so well rested, clear-headed, emotionally stable, satisfied, and healthy as
when I was getting up early day after day to work hard in the beautiful hot
sun, going home and enjoying the company of friends/coworkers that I loved,
while cooking dinner, reading a little, and winding down to turn in early for
the night.
Also, it
was there in the desert that I finally received my answer. You know, I have never thought of it before,
but It makes me smile to think that I went away to a desert to ponder just like
Jesus used to without even knowing it. I
don’t think that it was a coincidence in the least degree that I got that Job.
Let me
diverge for just a moment longer to tell you the miraculous occurrence of how I
got this job. I had gone home at
Christmas Feeling very motivated to find/apply for internships at zoos. That is the path I’d like to go with my
degree—working at a zoo—so it is important to do summer work to gain experience
and to start networking. Now—you can be
incredulous if you wish—but I must take a moment to “toot my own horn” as it
were, so that you can understand how this was a miracle. I have never been one to decide something and
then not to do it if it is what I wanted or what I bellied was right. I am extremely self-driven/motivated and strong-willed
and just like to get things done. I came
home determined to find internships/to get the applications done over break
while I had more free time than during school.
Well, I found about 20 but never applied to any of them. Not one.
Every time I thought about doing it I just couldn’t quite bring myself
to. It was weird and completely unlike
me.
Well,
“that’s okay,” I thought. “You have
until the end of January.” Nope. I still did not do a single one. I felt a little possessed by a strange spirit
to be honest. Something was leading me
subtly to not do it and I was following.
I felt strangely okay about what had happened even though I should have
been upset and concerned.
So, life
continued, and one day in class one of my professors had some people in to
advertise summer positions (these applications usually happen in February,
March, and April). Seasonal work in the
summer is a pretty common route for people to go who want to end up working for
Federal or State agencies (such as USFS, BLM, UDWR, USFWL, etc.), but this had
never been my plan, so I usually did not listen when they came in to present
their job openings In class. Well for
some reason, this time I did, and the job even sounded appealing to me. I surprised myself and decided to apply.
Embarrassingly
enough, it was the first time I had ever applied for a job, so I went to one of
my professors and got help making my cover letter and resume and then sent it
in. Meanwhile, I came to learn that
this is the highest paying summer job for undergraduates working with wildlife
in Utah, that it offers the most diverse training/experiences, and is
consequently the most highly sought after among students in my major. That made me nervous, but I got an interview
and it went so well that it could not have gone any better! I actually left on sort of a high it went so
well! All the questions were so easy and natural to
answer and I could tell they were pleased with my responses (it was Randy—a
professor- and Bob—a contractor who worked out there) and we were all happy
(later Randy actually told the other girls that ended up getting hired and I
that the reason why they choose us was because we interviews so well as well as
having impressive resumes. Hurray!). Well, I waited for about two weeks and then
learned that I had gotten the job. I
accepted, and then did not have to worry any more about finding work for the
summer. Hurray for blessings!
Well, near
the end of June I found myself alone after work basking in the sun on the
grass, by the side of the pool on base.
I always feel peaceful while laying in the sun. I decided to call Alyssa because it was the
day before she would enter the MTC and I wouldn’t be in Provo to see her
off. She had decided to go on a mission
after all which was a big change. We had
been keeping up with each other all along and giving updates on where we stood
on our decision to go, or not, on a mission.
We talked for about an hour that sunny afternoon, a bit about her
thoughts on leaving, then she asked me where I was in my decision process (I
told her that I was at about the same place as always—undecided), but mostly we
just enjoyed each others company. After
I hung up I went into a state of very deep thought about going on a
mission. It was such a good time and
place to just ponder.
I guess at
some point (slowly, very slowly) I had decided to go, which I realized more
fully then. So I asked myself when. I sort of vaguely told myself “Oh, next
summer. You already have all of your
plans set up for next year,” which was true.
I had gone apartment shopping with Rebecca Conkel (a friend from my Hall
in Helaman Halls freshman year) an bought a contract and we were so
excited! I know it sounds silly, but I
ha never chosen a rotate before (I always got what I call mystery roommates)
and the prospect of experiencing what I thought of as “being a real girl” was
making me so happy. We were going to
decorate the apartment, put our beds together to have a queen-sized bed
(Rebecca calls it our “jumbo bed” or our “party bed”), and have parties
together!
I had also
planned on signing up for the docent program (a once a week, year-long
commitment) at the Hogle Zoo in Slat Lake.
I had all of my classes picked out, and I just felt settled. But then I realized a number of things. For one, if I waited until the next summer
they may as well have not changed the age because I would be 21 anyways—I did
not like that thought at all. Also, I
realized that why wait if I really believed I was going to go? In all honesty that would be a stupid plan in
my opinion because it would be like putting your life on hold.
So I
demanded why? WHY SELF?! Why did I want to wait? What was holding me back? A problem that I had long recognized in
myself came to my mind at that moment.
My whole life I have had few struggles following commandments. It seems very obvious to me—they are easy to
follow. I have always made good choices
in how to use my time. I took hard
classes in school, studied a lot, was involved in leadership, volunteered, did
drama, debate, art, was in school sports, danced, did music, everything. But I have always had a little fear of asking
Heavenly Father in prayer if what I was doing was what He wanted me to be doing
(even though they were good things, was there something better?)? Was I following Hid plan? I was scared that maybe I ought not to be
dancing so much or something, and so I chose to never ask… Well the situation now seemed similar. I was again afraid to give up my own plans
for myself. I had never thought about going on a mission, I had never planned on it—and the disruption to the life I had been
pursuing for myself concerned me. That
was the honest truth I realized. But how
silly, because I have learned and know, and believe that God knows everything
and he knows what is best for us, so why would you not want to know what his
plan for yourself could be? It was a
problem with lacking faith.
My thoughts
then jumped to a different topic. My
freshman year I had learned a great habit form my roommate Kim Hoffman) She always was listening to General
Conference talks on her laptop during simple moments—like while getting ready
in the morning. I thought it was such a
simple yet incredible way to add more spirit into one’s life and I have done it
ever since. I also had started listening
to past BYU devotionals on my IPod (that Ian had been so kind as to gibe me)
while working alone sometimes that summer.
There were some days (while working on vegetation transects alone) that
I would listen to five or six in a row (about four hours worth) and I loved
it! I love to feel inspired by the great
people talking; to be so touched by the Spirit that I am brought to tears. As I reflected on this I asked myself what it
was that I admired so much in these people I listened to? What was it in their lives that I longed to
have in my own? The answer came
easily. I envied how much their lives
were led and touched by the Spirit. I
envied how much God had a hand in their lives.
And that’s
what I wanted. That is what I want. And I realized then, and I know now that if I
ever want my life to be as incredible as theirs I have to give up my fears and
turn my life over willingly to God—to a loving Heavenly Father who knows me better
than anyone else and who could, if I let him, lead me to the greatest life
possible for me on this earth. And what
better way to give up my will to God’s then the opportunity that was staring me
right in the face. Then I knew; I knew
in that moment that I finally had my answer:
I was going on a mission and it couldn’t have been a clearer
answer—although it also couldn’t have been more different from how I would have
expected to receive an answer. I finally
felt at peace. It was one of the
clearest moments of my life—lying there in the fading sun, finally knowing what
I wanted to do.
I stayed
there for a long time; it was one of those cliche moments where I was sort of
irrationally afraid that all of my peace, clam, and surety would shatter when I
got up to return to my trailer. Sadly, I
knew myself well enough to know that as strong and as clear as the answer was
that I was feeling, that I would not feel it so on the morrow—and so I made
absolutely certain that I sat there for as long as I needed to ingrain it in my
mind and in my heart that I was going and that I knew it was the right thing to
do. I knew that day that God knew that I
had received a confirmation from the Holy Ghost that my decision to go swerve a
mission for the Lord is what he wanted me to do, and I will never deny it—and
unless I felt the same strong confirmation not to go, nothing would hold me
back.
I felt very
strange that night while going about cooking dinner and getting ready for
bed. My whole life had changed its
course in one small moment and yet everything went on as normal—no one else
knew. And no one would for a while
because I am an oddly secretive creature about certain things. The very next evening I set to work on my
online papers. It was a bit of a
challenge working on them out in the desert and with limited free time—my Mom
helped me a LOT over the phone—but nothing seemed able to deter me—from the
moment of my decision until the time when all of my things were sent off to
Salt Lake and everything was out of my hands I was possessed by a frenzied spirit.
I had been
right about myself; the net morning I woke up and thought “You. Are. Absolutely
insane!” The idea of such a big change
was daunting to me, and the thought even crossed my mind “No one knows what
happened, you could bury this all behind you like nothing happened.” But no (curse integrity;) it was not to
be. I knew, as I said before, that God
knew it and so I pressed forward. Once
I’d decided to go I just wanted to be gone as soon as possible—I felt very
urgent about getting everything done ASAP.
My portion
online was done in three days—and by a miracle in a seemingly random last
minute work schedule change, I was able to be in Provo on Friday for my dentist
and doctor’s appointments that I had already scheduled (still the only explanation
I can offer to anyone as to why I would schedule appointments for a time that I
knew I wouldn’t be in town for (but it was the only openings they had) and feel
oddly okay about it, is that I was being led by the Spirit).
That Sunday
I had an appointment with my Bishop—all went well and everything was ready for
me to set up my final appointment with the Stake President, except that the
dentist office I’d been to still hadn’t mailed the papers to my Bishop. Aghh!!! I felt so thwarted—I harassed them and
my Bishop (poor souls) the whole next week by phone—as I was back out in the
desert—until it got done. The moment I
was cleared, I called up the Stake Clerk to set up an appointment for Sunday
(it was already Saturday at this point) but it was too late. I begged the man shamelessly over the phone
to squeeze me in or to switch me with someone else, anything! He was sympathetic but immoveable. I settled with asking him to call me right
away if anyone canceled or didn’t show and In the meantime set up an
appointment for Tuesday evening (again who on earth knows why I did this when I
knew I’d be 2 ½ hours away in the desert working).
Well, no
one cancelled, even though I prayed really hard that someone would, and I
headed back to work Monday morning discouraged and worried (you see I couldn’t
just have an interview the following Sunday because Wednesday morning the Stake
President was flying out for two weeks X_X).
All Monday I tried to think of excuses to go home Tuesday from work so I
could make it to my interview. I was
quite worked up about it (we drove to and from work in the work trucks that BYU
provided so I didn’t have my own car to take me). For one thing, Randy (our BYU
professor/adviser for the job) had had a very serious conversation with us
about the work trucks before the field season started. He had very emphatically told us that the
trucks were being paid for with Federal money and so they were to be used solely to get us to and from Provo for
work at the beginning and end of the week and to get us around while at
work. Other than that we could not use
them for anything no matter what the emergency—and if he found out that any of
us had used it out of line, we would be immediately fired. So I couldn’t take a truck and I felt like I
had no one to ask to drive 2 ½ hours their to get me, 2 ½ hours to Provo, 2 ½
to take me back, and then 2 ½ for them to get back home… It was too much to ask. I wondered whether or not I should risk just saying that I had to go home for personal matters and that I’d be back
–would using the car dishonestly be justified by the cause? Oh, the irony!
Well I
decided in the end I was so desperate that I was just going to go for it, and
then something miraculous happened. The
three other girls and I were all very responsible, pretty on-top of things
people, but for the first an only time that summer (a miracle) all four of us had forgotten to pick up
the new water quality supplies that had been shipped to BYU that Jess needed
that week. You can only imagine how
quick I was to volunteer to drive back and get them. MIRACLE!
I now had a completely legitimate, work related reason to drive home and
be able to make my interview! And just
in case I was not relieved enough already, we got an email from Bob Monday night
asking if we could take down the rough sorted boxes of pitfall traps to Michael
(in the Bean Museum at BYU) because he had finished all of his. So I also took those down and just felt
doubly covered (not necessary, but Heavenly Father is incredible and gave me
comfort when I needed it). I worked
Tuesday and then headed out—Sam and Taylor were angels and covered my evening
shift so that I could go—and had my interview:D
Exactly a
week and two days later my call came—the quickest I’ve ever heard of one coming—which
was another miraculous blessing/tender mercy.
Again, this was not life changing, but it meant the world to me that it
had come so quickly. You see, that next
week I was leaving to go home for Johnny’s wedding (the week before school
started again) and I’d put Sierra’s address down for them to send my call to (I
lived in her and Chris’ living room over the summer)—so, if it had not come that
week I would not have known until school had already started if I could do one
more semester or not (I had put my availability date as September) and whether
to stay at home or go back to Provo. But
I got my call! And my report date was/is
January 9th. Luckily I had
kept my classes and although I had put my contract up for sale the week before
out of fear of being stuck with it, no one had bought it yet, so I even got my chance
to live with Rebecca after all:D !!!!
I have been
called to the Madagascar Antananarivo Mission, French speaking, I report to the
Missionary Training Center in Ghana January 9, 2014, that is my story, and I
could not be happier!
~Just as a few extra notes for myself, one of the other
really cool miracles about the job I had last summer, is that the amount I earned
is almost exactly the amount it costs for an 18 month mission. So with this, I will be able to pay for my
own mission.
~Also, I always feel like nobody believes me when I say
this, but it is absolutely true. Although
I never thought I would go on a mission I still thought that it was fun to join
conversations about where I would want to go if I ever went. Well, I always said somewhere in Africa, French
speaking, like Madagascar. So cool! When I put in my papers it never even crossed
my mind that I would be sent there. It
was only a few years ago that they started letting sisters back in! Also, people always raise a skeptical brow
when I say that I am majoring in Wildlife Management and minoring in French and
ask, “How are those related?” Well there
you have it all you non-believers, they are related;) !
