From a personal standpoint, I remember the moment the announcement was made well. I was in the Conference Center itself at the time, and the spirit there was so incredibly strong as it bore witness to me that this was a change inspired by God. However, in many ways, I didn't know what to think. Should I go? A mission was something that, in all honesty, I never expected to go on. I suppose I had fallen prey to the idea that I would be married before the time came to make that decision, obviously. It was still something I knew I would think about if I got around to 21 still single, but that was still two years away, so I maintained a sort of "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it" mentality. Suddenly a huge life decision had been moved up to one I could make right then, and that was scary.
At the time I was dating someone, so that also had to be a consideration. I remember coming away from that General Conference weekend with the feeling that I needed to prepare for a mission, whether I went or not. There was a fairly distinct feeling that "preparing" for a mission didn't necessarily mean I would be going on one. I felt like I needed to sort of up my spiritual maturity and make an even greater effort to be close to God and the promptings of the Spirit. Whether that preparing was going to prepare me for a mission, marriage, or just improve myself, I knew it would be a good mentality to hold.
Of course, nothing changed all that much, and I hope that is because I was already living my life in a way that was in line with the teachings of Christ. I don't say that to boast, but I do say that because I think as members of the Church we often beat ourselves up or freak out about being "prepared". Yes, you want to be worthy to go on a mission, to attend the temple, but life is a constant journey and the Lord doesn't expect perfection from his children in order to obtain a temple recommend, etc. So I continued on my way without any specific direction on where life would take me.
In November I was once again single and realized that now was an even better time to go on a mission, if I was going to do so. I prayed, I received no answer, and I decided that perhaps I would act in faith and move forward with a mission. However, I didn't, despite telling my family and roommates I'd be starting my papers to leave in the summer, and as January came around I found myself once again trying to decide, though it seemed I had done that many times already.
At a CES Fireside in January, I remember watching President Uchtdorf speak but hearing something different than his words from the Spirit. I wrote my impressions down as frantically as I they came in a notebook, and realized the closing musical number had started and I wasn't paying any attention to the beautiful music. I forced myself to put down the pen and looked forward to hear the choir sing, "It may not be in the battlefield / Where my Lord will have need of me", and those words really struck me. "Oh," I realized, "Maybe my mission isn't in the field."
I should tell you here that I'm not someone who receives very distinct promptings from the Spirit all that often, so this was much of a surprise to me (please don't ever expect this to be the norm - pay attention to the rest of my story and you'll see that most of my answers were received very gradually).
After receiving this inspiration, I went along my merry way. When people would ask me if I had any plans for a mission, I remember explaining these thoughts and saying, "Of course, if the Lord has need for me later, I'll go. I just don't feel like that's my mission at this particular time. I'm open to the future though." Life was all too good, and I was so very happy with my particular situation.
In May, I was finally able to get a job after a month of looking, and started work at the BYU Bakery. It was good - the work itself was enjoyable, but I was faced with the task of waking up at 4:10am every morning to ride my bike to work so I could be there by 5am. For those of you who know me well enough to have seen me in the morning, you know I am by no means a morning person. This was difficult for me, honestly one of the hardest things I've ever had to make myself do physically. Convincing myself that it was worth it every time that blasted alarm went off, dragging myself out of bed to a pitch black apartment, and riding through the dark so early was hard. Every day seemed to be a battle as I would wake up early, work for a few hours, then come home exhausted and nap for a few more, only to wake up and find myself with zero motivation to get dressed or put on make-up. I mean, what was the point? All I was going to do was put it on, sit around for a few hours, be invited to do something social, turn it down because I needed to get to bed early, then go through the long process of washing it all off (make-up is awful like that).
It all accumulated in a meltdown in the car with my mom, where I sobbed that I couldn't do it and it wasn't fair and it wasn't worth it and WOE IS ME. Everything about my life felt so off, and something seemed to be missing. At some point in the conversation, my mom brought up a mission - had I thought about that at all lately? (Interjection: My parents are wonderful and have never pushed me in one direction or the other regarding a mission. They understood the choice was between me and the Lord, and it wasn't even a "We support you", while I knew deep down they wanted me to go. It was just "We support you", and they did.) In answer to my mom's question, no I hadn't. But after that I did.
Over the next few days as I tried to be more positive about my situation, that mission idea stayed with me. Before, a mission had brought about a sort of stupor of thought where I could never really picture myself on one, I couldn't work it into any plans without feeling weird about it, and it never really sounded good. This time when I thought about it, however, "good" is the way I would describe the feeling. It wasn't "YES YOU MUST GO" and it wasn't "NO" either. It was just a sort of, "Yeah, this would be a good direction for you", so I met with the Bishop.
I started the conversation by saying, "I think I want to open my mission papers", which, you know, isn't very decisive or anything. Thank goodness for his foresight because I told me that though he had no problem opening them for me, he wanted me to be sure. While other bishops might encourage sisters to go if they seemed on the fence about it, he wanted me to know why I was going. The missionaries from the Provo YSA 9th Ward weren't going to get to the MTC or mission field and then have to figure out why they were there. He told me to go to the temple that next week, and meet with him again on Sunday. If nothing had changed, we would still open them, and if something had, we would listen to that prompting as well.
So Tuesday, June 11th, I fasted and I went to the temple. During my morning bike ride to work, I listened to a conference talk that seemed to bring up missionary work again and again. At work, as I moved racks in the freezer, I pictured myself on a mission and thought about it all day. Perhaps one of the reasons I was at this job was because I needed to learn to wake up early (I mean seriously, 6:30 would be a breeze compared to this), and because I needed to show myself I had the self-discipline to do so. At the temple, scripture after scripture I read seemed to call me to the work (going back and looking at these scriptures, there is nothing explicitly "missionary work" about them. They are not the "the field is white and ready to harvest" scriptures we are all so familiar with, but at that time the Spirit helped me gain the same kind of feeling from them). So I left the temple with the decision that I would go on a mission.
It was still new and unfamiliar, but I plowed ahead nonetheless. After a few weeks, I felt the doubts start to creep in and had to ask myself, "Is this from the adversary or from God?". After a beautiful priesthood blessing administered by my father, I again felt the confirmation to go on a mission. And then, just a week ago, this happened:
I am beyond thrilled. I've talked to a lot of people about their experience in opening their call. For some, they didn't really gain the excitement and confirmation that was where they needed to be until later when they were in the field. For others, their experience was similar to mine; all I could think was, "Of COURSE I'm going to DC. Why didn't I think of that? Duh." It all felt so right and perfect and good. I'm sure as I serve I will have countless other experiences that will confirm to me that is where I should be, but it's really lovely that I already feel a rightness about it.
I know this was a long story, but I've been wanting to record all these thoughts for a while now. If you read through the whole thing, I think you're awesome! So much gratitude for all the wonderful people in my life who have showed nothing but excitement for me since the first moment I mentioned a mission. It will be hard leaving such incredible friends and family behind, but I am comforted by the feeling that Washington DC is where the Lord needs me. This mission is what I'm supposed to be doing right now, and I know the Lord will sanctify my actions as I move forward with faith.
