My Misson, My Decision

When the missionary age changed in October of 2012, I rejoiced and raised my fist in the air to say, "YES! I am going on a mission!!" and then everyone and their dog was like, "YES! I am going on a mission!" So I was like, "Okay, cool. You all go and I'll just chill here."
When I started my freshman year, I got the feeling like I needed to think about going on a mission again. So I sort of started halfheartedly praying about it. The prayer sort of went like this, "Hey...so...am I supposed to go on a mission? .....No? Okay cool." So I just decided the answer was no and moved on with my life.
As I mentioned in my last post, during the middle of February, the feeling came back full force to reconsider serving a mission. At this time, my best friend was putting in her papers. Everyone around me was either engaged or going on a mission. And there I was, not even sure what I was going to eat for dinner.

I spent the whole week in constant turmoil. I felt like I was saying an open ended prayer to Heavenly Father. First it started out as a question - Should I go on a mission? Then it switched to, "Okay, I'm going. Is that right?" And when that didn't get an answer it was, "Okay. I'm actually not going. Is that right?" 

All week I knew I needed to call my sister to talk to her about her decision to serve a mission. As she told me of her experience, I related to it and immediately felt peace. I decided that I was going to go see my bishop and tell him my thoughts and start my mission papers. At this point, I was completely fine with going, I was just so afraid that it was the wrong decision. But I went forward with faith and worked hard waiting for the official "go ahead" or the "stop now". 

During March, I was able to come home for about three days for spring break. Those three days I was running around like CRAZY from doctor to doctor, trying to get all my medical paperwork done for my mission. The only thing was that I was doing it all alone. Both my mom and dad were working and none of my siblings new about my decision yet, so I was just working hard being all adult and taking responsibility for my life. 

At the end of the third day, I still seemed pretty iffy. My mom and I were talking and at that point I sort of had an epiphany. I said, "Mom, I don't think I really want to go." I knew that a mission would be challenging, hard, and emotionally trying, but none of that worried me because God's on my side. He would be sure to take care of his girl - whatever happened would be his will. I had to sort of take a step back and realize that I was going for the wrong reasons. I desired to have the experiences that my friends were having. I wanted to open that call. I wanted people to come to my farewell. I wanted to feel that love and support that comes when you go on a mission. I wanted people to stop asking me if I was going on a mission. It was really hard to come to terms with the fact that right now, I wasn't going. I didn't want the answer to be 'no' when everyone else's answer was 'yes'.

But let me tell you, putting off the mission was one of the best things that happened to me. There is so much growing that I've done in the past few months and I'm sure I will continue to do in the next year that would crush me if I'd been in the mission field. 

I still have time to go on a mission and quite frankly, it's on my mind more often than not. But between me and the Lord, this just isn't the time.

I have been called to serve in Logan this fall. And that is my call and my mission. What's yours?