Called to Serve

It's been a long time since I posted or wrote or did anything- really- that didn't involve poopy diapers and stewing in baby spit up but my parents visited this last week just prior to their leaving on a humanitarian mission that they will be serving for the next 5 months. In looking at their lists of things to buy and watching them busily prepare the essentials I was reminded, very strongly, of my own mission.

I cannot speak for all people who have served missions, but there is something that was created within me that is difficult to understand. Difficult not just for people who are not members of the church, but even for members who have not served missions- at least in my observation. A return missionary does not just yearn for their former life as a missionary, but they mourn it. There are days when I ache to be on a mission again, serving and working along with others who are working towards the same common goal. I have dreams of leaving my children and husband to return to serve and then once I'm there I realize that I can't be here- I have responsibilities at home. The ending is always filled with mixed emotions and I usually wake up feeling like something is missing- like there is something that I've lost, which I can't regain. Don't get me wrong- I love my children and Chris tremendously, but that feeling of unadulterated service that comes from serving a mission is a true gift.

I was sort of a dumb girl. I mean, really...my priorities were completely askew. I was more concerned about status, and being cool than what I now believe to be what is most important. It took an epiphany and many tears shed to let go of some self-indulgent behavior and focus on a different path. That path was pretty much up hill, but I chose it because I knew that it was for the best- at least I hoped it would be or rather, I had the faith that it was. I will never forget that feeling when I walked into the MTC in Provo (missinary trainging center). It was a feeling of total conviction. I had goosebumps because although I did not know what to except, I knew that what I was doing was important. That year and half changed me profoundly. I think it made me a better person, and I know that it made me a better wife and mother. Not everyone needs to immerse themselves into selfless service in order to be a good person and to solidify their beliefs, but I did. Here is a short list of what I learned (this is no way is saying that I am perfect at these things- only that I am aware of them and work on them):

1) How to compromise: There is a lot of "It's my way or the highway" attitudes. And don't get me started on the "My man needs to treat me like a queen!" facade...no one is better or deserves anything. Everyone needs to work for everything they get. If you have joy in your life its not because you are lucky- it's because you work very hard to make your life that way. Same for if your life sucks- you worked hard to make it that way. There are always variables and exceptions, but this is what I learned is the general rule.

2) What other people feel and think matters: I was notorious for belittling remarks and I sometimes revisit this state of being with my family, but for the most part it's not cool to be a jerk. I remember that one of my companions asked me "why do you keep saying that this sucks or that sucks? does it really matter? you are being negative." We had our own issues, she and I, but she was right. I was being unnecessarily negative and belittling her likes and dislikes when in the end- it was really no big deal.

3) Stop and take a look at yourself before you start to criticize others for your crap: I was depressed when we were having a tough time finding people to teach, when I had a companion who basically said to me that we were not going to take no for an answer. We were going to pray for a teaching experience and we would have faith that we would have one- and that's that! I scoffed a little and she came back at me. I realized that I needed to change my attitude before I could change my circumstances. In the end we found someone to teach and she was totally right.

4) People are what matter. Not things or status: I met so many different kinds of people while I was on my mission. My wall of prejudices was broken many times and was only rebuilt through my own stubbornness. I can recall this time when a poor, single mother of two invited us to eat at her home. I wasn't very excited because I thought that we could get a better meal from someone we knew better- someone who was more fun and whose living accommodations were nicer. I was humbled when she took her last two cans of chili and what she had left of some potatoes to make us as nice a meal as she could in her trailer. He kids were so excited to eat with us and she was nearly in tears that we would grace her home with our presence. Needless to say I felt like a total jerk after eating with her. I was the one changed. I was the one who should be grateful for her example and her sacrifice. In the end- death I mean- nothing matters except for how you treated others. The End.

5) Faith without works is a waste of time: There were plenty of times when I was not in the mood to get yelled at or knock on doors. Plenty of times when I would have preferred to sleep in, but I got up and out and was always happier for it. Just because you "feel" a certain way does not mean you have to let that feeling control your life. In fact, most of the time we shouldn't because otherwise we are giving in to a more humanistic approach, which is like our Id, instead of the spiritual approach which is what makes us truly happy. I'm reminded of the parable of the guy who is trapped in a flood and prays for help. When he gets help in two different forms- helicopter, boat- he denies them saying "I have faith- God will save me!' Then he drowns and dies. He see's God and asks 'Why didn't you save me? I had so much faith in you." And God responds: "I sent a helicopter and a boat but you didn't want their help!"

I miss my mission. There were some super tough patches and things that I am glad I do not have to relive everyday, but the change that it effected in me was infinite. I am glad that my parents have the opportunity to experience that even if it's just for a little bit of time. Going on a mission, for me, was not about how many people I saw enter the waters of baptism, or how many people I taught (because the numbers were not that significant anyhow) it was laying a foundation for what my expectations would be for my children, creating a stronger bond and understanding with my husband, and changing the only person that I am completely responsible for in the life...me.