1 Corinthians 9:16

When I got home from Jerusalem, I knew without a doubt that I was supposed to go on a mission, but I just didn’t know when. Should I go right when I turn twenty-one? Or maybe wait until I finish my degree? Or maybe take a year off school and then go? Or, or, or, or. I was feeling extra confused because I was accept to attend pharmacy school in Winnipeg, but I kinda just wanted to move to Utah and have fun with all my new Jerusalem friends, and all these great opportunities for my future kept coming my way.  

I was only home for about three weeks before I decided it was time to pack up the Buick, and take a road trip to Idaho, and Utah to visit my friends. It was fast Sunday that weekend, and so like a good ginger I was fasting that I would know when the Lord wanted me to go on a mission. That Sunday every single person bore their testimonies about going by the Lord’s timeline, and forget your timeline. This was a very straight forward way for the Lord to tell me that I needed to serve my mission when I was twenty-one, and that everything (that means everything, so sorry boys!) else needed to be put on the back burner until I got back. I felt completely at peace with this. Lots of people questioned me giving up some much, but I simply do not believe in a God that has already blesses me immensely, but when I give Him eighteen months of pure devotion, He takes away the blessings He had in store for me. Heavenly Father just doesn`t work like that.      

Living it up in Utah for the weekend

I tried to start my papers at the end of July, because I was going to Peru for about a month and that way I would be able to work on my papers as soon as I returned home. Being a Bishop is a super busy assignment, and consequently starting my mission papers was forgotten. The partier came out in me and I decided that pharmacy school was not the right step for me to take, but taking the party to Utah to finish my degree was right. I figured I’d just wait and start my papers with my Bishop in Utah. One, thing lead to another, Letty, and I couldn’t figure out what ward we were supposed to attend for the first few weeks, then the Bishop in our newly found ward forgot to start my mission papers for a week or two, and so officially I didn’t start my papers until the middle of September. Working on my papers was hard, not emotionally but actually complicated. It is not as though the Church asks too much of you to complete your papers, but it seemed like everything that could go wrong did; I’d fill out a form wrong, I had to go back home to Canada to finish the medical part of my papers, the doctor in Canada gave me the wrong fax number not once but twice, and then the Bishop filled out his forms, but forgot to save them meaning he wouldn`t have time to do it for a couple days. It was a lot to handle, especially when some people just wipe mission papers out in a week. It didn’t seem fair that when I was doing what the Lord wanted that it would be complicated.

I mostly just played with children in Peru

At General Conference President Monson announced the age change for missionaries. Previously boys would go at age nineteen for two years, and girls would go at twenty-one for eighteen months, now boys can go on a mission at eighteen if they have graduated from high school, and girls can leave at nineteen. I was completely shocked, and comforted when I heard the announcement. I realized immediately that with the age change far more girls would choose to serve missions, and consequently I found feel less like a lone wolf by choosing to serve. Many people have asked if I am upset that I had to wait until I was twenty-one to serve. However, I will be far more of an effective missionary at twenty-one than I would have been when I was nineteen. It would be nice, to already be home, but I wouldn’t have gone to Jerusalem, know nearly half of the great people I know now, I wouldn’t be as close to the Saviour, or as willing.

To be a drama queen for a paragraph everything involving my mission has been stressful, and difficult. (And I am hardly ever stressed. I once told my friend that I had never had a canker sore, and she said “you’ve also never been stressed, we aren’t all so blessed.”) Getting my papers completed took more time than I wanted, after my call was sent it took two weeks to arrive in the mail because it was (American) Thanksgiving (I live an hour away from where they assign calls), I hardly slept for that time, and had a serious OCD mailbox checking condition, when my call came there was a huge rip in the envelope, Skype didn’t work when it was time to open my call, trying to find cute sister missionary clothes sucks the suck. However, with everything going wrong I am only more determined to go on my mission. Obviously I am going to be some kind of wonderful if I am having so many troubles. (Please, just let my naïve dreams soar.)

This is what I looked like when I got my call. I'm really proactive about getting ready. 

I didn’t tell anyone besides my family, Julia, Letty, Ashley, and Sb that I was going on a mission. I can`t explain why but it was something that I needed to keep private. I was so weird about it too. After President Monson announced the age change lots of people all of sudden thought that it was completely appropriate to ask girls if they would go on a mission (but secretly they were asking if you are going to get married instead.)When people would ask if I was going on a mission now “that I could.” I would be a huge creep and say something like “You know you never know,” or “It’s hard to say.” What the what does that even mean?

There was a huge rip in the envelope. I could have easily peeked in. 

I received my call on November 28, 2012. Letty, and I went to check the mailbox together, and who knows why but I let Letty open the mailbox, and she snatched out my mission call. We screamed, screamed, and screamed some more. (I am just puzzled why our neighbors hate us.) It was the afternoon, and of course I was still in my night gown luckily I had to wait until 8ish that night so I had time to get glamorous. I called my parents, texted the few privileged people who got to know that I was going on a mission. I opened my call around eight that night at my Aunt Barb’s, and Uncle Ted’s house. My cousin Megan, her husband Bryce, and their two babies were there, my cousin Jenna, her husband Josh, and their son was there, Mattison was there, Ashley, Megan, Sb, Letty, and Madi came to support. I Skyped Whitney, and Alex, Julia, and then my parents, Greyson Robin, and her boytoy.

Ash, Mays, Sb, me, Letters, and Madi with my call. 

When I opened my call I felt so many emotions but mostly happy and nauseous. I prayed a lot before I received my call that when I read it I would know it was truly the Lord sending me to that mission, and that is where His people needed me. When I read “You have hereby called to serve in the Nevada Las Vegas mission” I felt a rush of confirmation run over me. I knew without a doubt that the Lord needed me there. I knew with such conviction that when some people play off that I’m just going to Vegas and not Kyrgyzstan, or Loas, I get super confused. “Umm how are you not feeling what I am feeling? What am I too cool for where Heavenly Father wants me to go? I don’t think so foo,” and then I probably do some z-snaps for extra emphasis at people trying to play off my “stateside” mission call.

I leave April 17, 2013. It is so soon. I feel scared, happy, nervous, excited, impatient, content and everything else all at once. It’ll be good for me. I can say without a doubt in my mind that this is the Lord’s plan for me, and I am extremely grateful for all the memories, people, and experiences I have had to make me ready to serve the Lord in this way. Give up the world for eighteen months? Yeah, I got this. 

Las Vegas or bust.