Since I was a teen I wanted to serve a mission. I thought for sure that I would! But how I regret that I was unable for many different reasons. I should have gone, I should have prepared myself so that I could have gone. I know that my Father in Heaven was very sad that I missed that great opportunity. I have often wondered to myself, was there someone that didn't get to hear the gospel because I did not go? How dumb I was to not go. I know that I was supposed to. It says it right there in my Patriarchal Blessing, "Before all other goals, seek first to serve God." Since I did not serve a mission, that statement has haunted me. Why was I so stupid!? Why didn't I remember the promise that I had made to myself? It just bothers me. And when I think about the opportunity lost, my heart sinks. I did not choose to serve the Lord. I chose a path much rockier and unstable. I chose that great and spacious building. And I can tell you it is a dark and dangerous and unhappy place. While in that time of darkness, I was always looking back longing for the peace that I could see in the distance. And as I would look toward the peace, I would wish I had made a better choice. And I would pray to my Father for help. And when I finally succumbed to the grief and pain I brought upon myself, my Father in Heaven buoyed me up and helped me make my way back to where the peace was waiting for me. I will never forget the feeling I had when I stepped into a church building after coming home from Arizona, where I had been. I felt such peace, and such joy it could not be denied! I was home. Honestly it felt like I my Savior was with me at that very moment, with his arms wrapped tightly around me, like he had missed me so much. And I had missed him. I had really missed him.
Now let me help those who may read understand. I never doubted the church, not for a minute. I don't know how to explain my poor decisions and why I made the mistakes I made. Was it love? Was it selfishness? Did I feel trapped? I think it may have been a mixture of all those things. But let me share with you a moment when I left it all up to my Heavenly Father, and he did take over.
I was on my way home from work on a VERY hot day in phoenix. And instead of taking the 201 I decided to take the express way by the airport. For some reason it was never crowded, so it was much more pleasant to drive on during rush hour in phoenix. If anyone has been there, you know what I mean. And as I drove home, it was one of the few times I could pray aloud where no one could hear. So I often prayed in my car. Don't worry I would at least keep my eyes open to watch the road. But I would turn the radio off and try to be as reverent as I could. But this particular day was different. You see before I would pray and ask the same questions, but never really wanted the answer, so I was never sincere. But this day, I took a deep breath, and asked again, but this time with a sincere heart. I also told my Father that something, or someone needed to help me make the right choice, because if the choice was to leave, I needed a lot of help and courage to do so.
About a week or 2 weeks later, I can't remember exactly, something did happen. Something that caused so much pain that I thought I would never be able to be whole again.
I had been talking to my mother, and when I told her what had happened, she just said, "Leave." I remember sitting there, in shock, not believing this was happening and then I said, "How mom? How do I just leave?" She told me then, that she would come and get me. She asked me when I wanted her there, I told her Friday. Now for some reason I thought it was Tuesday. So I thought I was giving myself a few days to change my mind, and tell her not to come. Well guess what folks......it was Thursday. So my mom bought a plane ticket and I packed up all my things, including my sweet cat Nala. That night was a hard one for me. I remember the agonizing pain that I was feeling. I also remember making trips to and from the garage where I had some things stored, and Nala honestly NEVER left my side, she followed me everywhere rubbing against my legs the entire time. She cuddled with me as I laid in my bed sobbing as my heart ached. She was such a comfort. And I know that Heavenly Father had a part in that.
The next morning after a sleepless night, I went to the airport, and picked up my mother. I called my place of employment and let them know that an emergency had called me home to Utah. They were awesome. I stopped by after calling to gather my things from my desk, they all hugged me and each gave me advice. I worked with the most AWESOME ladies!
Then the long drive home began. I drove the entire way, which terrified my mother. But it was the only way I could keep myself from crying. We stopped in Panguitch for the night. I remember my mom forcing me to eat. I just was not hungry for anything. I finally laid down and fell asleep. But then woke up in a panic as I realized it was all real and not a dream. And I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I tried to cry quietly, but I still woke my mom. She climbed into bed with me and held me until I was calm enough to fall asleep again. As a mother now, I know that she was just wishing she could take the pain away. Being a mother is the most wonderful thing in the world, but I believe it is also the most heartbreaking thing as well.
We got home the next day, and slowly things got better and better. I made new friends, got a good job and started to enjoy life again.
The reason I tell you all this, is because I know that though we all make mistakes, some large and some small. We can always come home. Yes I regret not serving a mission at 21 years old. But I know I will have an opportunity to serve with my best friend and eternal companion Gerritt, if we live righteously. And so I will strive for that.
But I will always look at Sister Missionaries with such admiration for their choice to serve the Lord. They make me smile and I can see the spirit radiating from them. What beautiful daughters of God they are. Thank you for all you do Sisters.
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