About 3 years ago, my family took a trip to Washington D.C to see all that great american history, and the white house and monuments that reminds us about America. However, little did I know, that during that trip, I would make a decision that would change my life. My parents had some family friends who lived in the area, so they decided that to call them up for a visit. They invited us for dinner and a catch up session because they hadn't seen each other for some 15 years. Well, schedules collided and instead of just us, the missionaries joined the dinner affair as well. But these weren't just missionaries, they were SISTER missionaries. Up until that point I hadn't really know very many sister missionaries. We always had Elders in my ward at home, and I knew they were around, but they weren't as common. So, this was a great experience. I got to talk with these wonderful sisters, and I got to see the blessing of a mission in their lives. During their short lesson after dinner I realized that I wanted the light they had. I wanted the experience that they were experiencing. I was going on a mission. Before, it was just, "Oh, I'll go if I'm not married," or "It would be a great thing, but we'll see," this time it was, "I'm going!" I decided in that moment that I would do everything I could to be able to go on a mission, because it felt like something I had to do.
Well, fast-forward about a year later. I was in marching bad rehearsal and it was the morning of a big competition. We had just run the show in practice and arrived at our last position which were little circular pods of 10-15 people in each circle. While we were holding our last position, I heard my name from across our little circle, and it sounded urgent. I looked over to the direction that my name had been called and it was my brother who was in the pod with me. I asked what was the matter, because we really weren't supposed to talk while running the show. He said his friend had just texted him that the mission age was lowered to 18 for boys and 19 for girls. I could have screamed for joy at that point, but as we were in attention position, I didn't. So many things ran through my head, but I remembered that commitment I made to myself just a year before, and realized that I could go on my mission that next fall. I didn't really pay much attention to the competition after that. All I could think of was my mission.
I thought about it a lot, as the weeks went on. My brother decided he was going to go right out of high school, and started his papers, but while I had that same desire, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Was it nerves? Was it Satan trying to get me not to go? I couldn't put my finger on it. After a struggle, I realized that the time was not right now. It didn't make sense,because I wanted to go on my mission so badly, but I followed that prompting and focused on graduating high school and getting into college.
During this time, my mission was on my mind a lot, I even signed up for a mission prep class. However, I thought, perhaps, I wasn't supposed to go. I know that not everyone is supposed to go on a mission. While it is a righteous desire, there are some people who's service is needed elsewhere. Maybe I was one of those people. So, I went to college, still with that desire in my heart, but looking for another purpose. Right off the bat, I met the most amazing roommates ever, and some of the best people on earth. And through many wonderful experiences, I knew that I was supposed to meet them at that time.
Now, after a month, that feeling that I needed to go on a mission came again. In my mission prep class people would share their mission calls and while I would feel happy for them, but I would feel a part of my heart break because I wasn't sharing a mission call with them. I hated that feeling. Well, the time came for me to go in for an interview with the bishop for my calling in my student ward. I had no clue what I would get. Maybe something in the Relief Society. I was thinking Compationate Service Leader, or something. But, that was way off. With the nerves running through me, (because, come on, I wanted a calling I would enjoy) I sat down for him to give me my calling. He said that my name had been presented to the bishopbrick as a ward missionary! I could have jumped out of my seat I was so excited! Callings are so inspired. The bishop told me about my calling, and my responsibilities, and he said that it will prepare you for your mission. As I walked back home (or, rather skipped back home) I thought about this whole experience. So far, every step I had taken to that point was preparing me for a mission, and maybe the reason I didn't feel I could go right away was that I just needed a little more time to learn and prepare so I could really be ready. That did it. My next meeting with the bishop was to start my papers.
I cannot even begin to describe the joy I felt when I finally got my mission call. It felt so right. Serving a mission is something I need to do to be a better mother, wife, and ward missionary. I cannot wait to serve the people of Puerto Rico in the Spanish language. I know that I am going to the best mission for me, and while it is going to be the hardest experience in my life, it will also be the most rewarding.
We have such a loving Heavenly Father, who knows us, and is aware of our efforts. Our Savior Jesus Christ is there for us when we need him, and he will help guide our path so that we can return to our Heavenly Father. I am so grateful to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I know that it is the true church on the earth today. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
Well, fast-forward about a year later. I was in marching bad rehearsal and it was the morning of a big competition. We had just run the show in practice and arrived at our last position which were little circular pods of 10-15 people in each circle. While we were holding our last position, I heard my name from across our little circle, and it sounded urgent. I looked over to the direction that my name had been called and it was my brother who was in the pod with me. I asked what was the matter, because we really weren't supposed to talk while running the show. He said his friend had just texted him that the mission age was lowered to 18 for boys and 19 for girls. I could have screamed for joy at that point, but as we were in attention position, I didn't. So many things ran through my head, but I remembered that commitment I made to myself just a year before, and realized that I could go on my mission that next fall. I didn't really pay much attention to the competition after that. All I could think of was my mission.
I thought about it a lot, as the weeks went on. My brother decided he was going to go right out of high school, and started his papers, but while I had that same desire, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Was it nerves? Was it Satan trying to get me not to go? I couldn't put my finger on it. After a struggle, I realized that the time was not right now. It didn't make sense,because I wanted to go on my mission so badly, but I followed that prompting and focused on graduating high school and getting into college.
During this time, my mission was on my mind a lot, I even signed up for a mission prep class. However, I thought, perhaps, I wasn't supposed to go. I know that not everyone is supposed to go on a mission. While it is a righteous desire, there are some people who's service is needed elsewhere. Maybe I was one of those people. So, I went to college, still with that desire in my heart, but looking for another purpose. Right off the bat, I met the most amazing roommates ever, and some of the best people on earth. And through many wonderful experiences, I knew that I was supposed to meet them at that time.
Now, after a month, that feeling that I needed to go on a mission came again. In my mission prep class people would share their mission calls and while I would feel happy for them, but I would feel a part of my heart break because I wasn't sharing a mission call with them. I hated that feeling. Well, the time came for me to go in for an interview with the bishop for my calling in my student ward. I had no clue what I would get. Maybe something in the Relief Society. I was thinking Compationate Service Leader, or something. But, that was way off. With the nerves running through me, (because, come on, I wanted a calling I would enjoy) I sat down for him to give me my calling. He said that my name had been presented to the bishopbrick as a ward missionary! I could have jumped out of my seat I was so excited! Callings are so inspired. The bishop told me about my calling, and my responsibilities, and he said that it will prepare you for your mission. As I walked back home (or, rather skipped back home) I thought about this whole experience. So far, every step I had taken to that point was preparing me for a mission, and maybe the reason I didn't feel I could go right away was that I just needed a little more time to learn and prepare so I could really be ready. That did it. My next meeting with the bishop was to start my papers.
I cannot even begin to describe the joy I felt when I finally got my mission call. It felt so right. Serving a mission is something I need to do to be a better mother, wife, and ward missionary. I cannot wait to serve the people of Puerto Rico in the Spanish language. I know that I am going to the best mission for me, and while it is going to be the hardest experience in my life, it will also be the most rewarding.
We have such a loving Heavenly Father, who knows us, and is aware of our efforts. Our Savior Jesus Christ is there for us when we need him, and he will help guide our path so that we can return to our Heavenly Father. I am so grateful to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I know that it is the true church on the earth today. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.