Long Time Coming

December 17, 2014

     On multiple occasions on this blog, I have related the woes of my efforts to serve a mission. I've talked about how my plans sometimes go completely awry, and about how some ordinary days are a bit surreal because of what they might have been. I began this journey over a year ago. In November of last year, I began slowly working on my mission papers. Slowly, because I didn't plan on turning them in for a few months, but I was excited to start anyway. On February 25th, I turned in my mission papers with my availability date set as June 25th. 

     I waited and waited for my call, and it wasn't until mid-May that I finally got the news. Because I had just begun to take an anti-depressant, I would have to wait 6 months so that the medication would be stabilized, and it could be determined from there whether or not I was fit to serve. I was heartbroken to learn the news, but I knew it was the right thing. Before beginning the anti-depressant, I knew, deep down, that I wasn't in any shape to serve a mission. I was hardly in any shape to do anything. 

     The next six months were wonderful and difficult at the same time. Wonderful because of the people I met and the things I experienced and the lessons I learned. Waiting six months was absolutely what I needed to be doing. Difficult because every day I thought about what I would do when the six months were up. I wasn't really sure anymore that I actually wanted to serve a mission. I looked into doing a semester abroad or taking an extended humanitarian trip as an alternative. I prayed and studied and worried, and finally decided that yes, I still wanted to go on a mission. The next question I had to decide was when. I didn't know if I should go as soon as the six months were up, and fall semester had ended, or wait another few months until I had finished winter semester as well. I prayed and studied and worried about that question, too. A very spiritual experience while in the temple one day became my answer, and I decided that I would go as soon as possible.

     When I relate my story to others, a common response is for them to tell me how strong I am, and to tell me how impressed they are that I kept at it and pushed through and decided to work toward a mission despite my setbacks. But the truth is that I don't feel strong because of it. This journey and struggle has been long and hard and I almost gave up many times. I all but decided not to go over and over again. It has been very very hard. 

      However, after so many long months of waiting and wondering and deciding, the day has finally come that I have received my mission call. When I opened the mailbox, I didn't think it was real. It had been so long that I almost didn't think it would ever actually come. I wasn't overly excited to see it, either. I was nervous beyond belief. Seeing the call in the mail suddenly made going on a mission real. I couldn't believe I was actually going to leave my friends, family, boyfriend, school, and entire life behind for 18 months. It was terrifying. When I opened the envelope and read my assignment, though, all of the fear and nervousness went away and I only felt excitement and joy. 

     I have been called to serve in the Washington D.C. South mission and I leave February 4, 2015. I couldn't be happier.