The Beginning

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 9^th.  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;) !