Normally, I would not want to put thoughts that are so
personal as this down on a page for everyone else to see, but for months now, I
have felt strongly that part of the reason I was directed to experience the
things I did was because I had an obligation and responsibility to share them
with others so that I could offer comfort, direction, and inspiration that the
Lord wants others to have. That, perhaps, has been the first lesson that I
learned from it all. Trials that I face, and that we all face, are not just
meant for our learning alone. Countless times, what I experienced has assisted
me in advising others and helping them to take a step forward, even when times
feel uncertain and lost. It has been a great blessing to be able to share with
others the blessings of my own trials, so I hope to do the same in sharing this
story. Many will probably see the length of this entry and be tempted to shut
it down, saying, “I’ll get back to that later”. And I don’t blame you at all if
that is what you choose to do. But I also hope that for someone who feels lost
and confused, this will offer hope. And if even just that one person is
comforted in their dark times, then this entry has accomplished what it was
meant to do.
I want to share what my experiences were in considering a
mission, an experience which many people know very general details, but not
many know the depth of what I faced. However, to begin to explain my
experience, I have to go back years before that.
When I was a young child, all the way into my teens, I had
no intention of going on a mission. It was not a question of testimony- I
believed that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints was instituted by
God and that we are led by a living prophet of God. However, I had never had women
in my life who had served missions. Instead, I had angel women who were so
strong in the gospel just by living their lives close to Christ: my mother, my
older sisters. They were so faithful and righteous, and so I never felt any
concern for my lack of enthusiasm in serving a mission. I had great respect for
those who served missions—my older brothers had all sacrificed two years for
their missions, so I saw the importance and wonder in those who served—but I
simply did not feel like that was what I was meant to do. In fact, I still
remember a day in Primary where the teacher asked who wanted to serve a
mission, probably not thinking that even then, there were children who
struggled with the decision. I remember that everyone around me excitedly raised
their hands, while I tried to not be noticed by the teacher for not raising my
hand. I loved the Gospel, and still do,
but the mission was not in my plans.
However, in my early teen years, I received revelation that
felt completely shocking and unexpected. I received inspiration that invited me
to serve as a full-time missionary at some point in my life, whether as a young
person or as a spouse in my future marriage. I was promised that I would be
inspired to know as the time approached what I should do. Receiving that was,
like I already said, shocking. It almost felt like the Lord had a sense of
humor, and that because I had not considered a mission at all, He wanted me to
put my plans aside and begin to consider what His plans were. So, beginning at
that young age, a mission began to exist as a possibility in the back of my
mind. Because a mission was still years away (women did not serve until they
were 21 years old at the time), I still had plenty of time to put that aside.
So, I went on, living life as usual with that on file.
Then, the mission change occurred that completely changed missions
in the minds of youth. My senior year of high school, the Church announced that
young men would now be allowed to serve at 18 years old, and young women would
be allowed to serve at 19 years old. I was at a cross country meet at the time
that they made the announcement, but I remember how many messages I received on
my phone of people saying, “Have you heard?” “I’m definitely going on a mission
now!” “It’s so soon! Our futures are completely changed!” I also remember
getting on Facebook shortly after the announcement and seeing countless girls
posting about how they were so excited to serve a mission at 19. Everyone
seemed to be celebrating the change. They were so so happy. When I got home, I
took the computer into a room alone and began to watch the session of
Conference that I had missed where they made the announcement. Upon hearing the
announcement… I began to cry. I cried and felt so ashamed for the fear and lack
of excitement I was feeling. I felt isolated, like the fear I was feeling made
me less faithful, somehow. Everyone else seemed so happy, and all I could think
of was how unprepared I was, and how I still did not know what I was supposed
to do. I just wanted to do the right thing, but everyone else seemed so
confident in serving. I felt like there must be something wrong with me or my
testimony if I was so uncertain.
Well, the change of mission age truly had an amazing effect
on the number of young adults serving missions, and it has continued to bless
so many lives. It truly was inspired. However, there began to develop in
mission culture an expectation for young women to serve missions. The Church’s
stance continues to be that they greatly appreciate the service given by the
women of the church in serving missions, but they do not hold the same duty as
the men to do so. In church culture, however, there became an implication that
those worth celebrating were those serving missions. Do not misunderstand me,
they are definitely worth celebrating. Such a sacrifice will continue to bless
those wonderful youth for the rest of their lives. However, for someone who was
still uncertain of whether or not she was meant to serve a mission, it became
painful when the expectation arose. People would constantly ask, “Are you going
to serve a mission?” and “You must be
planning to serve a mission, right?” And if you answered “yes”, you received
excitement and praise and reminders of how wonderful that choice is. If you
said “no” or “I don’t know”, too often you received a simple “Oh” and that was
that. In a time where I was truly learning who I wanted to be, as well as at a
time where I wanted to please others, my shame for my uncertainty continued to
grow.
Upon leaving to BYU, it actually got easier. Because there
were so many people choosing either way, people became very careful in how they
addressed missions. Everyone wanted to just accept everyone, so the decision
process became easier in that respect. At the same time, most of my close
friends were preparing to depart for missions, so I began to feel pressure to
decide. Not pressure from others, but personal pressure that I began to put on
myself. As my friends began to depart for missions, I began to settle on my
decision. I took a mission preparation class, and I grew to like the idea of
serving a mission. I still had not felt that the Lord had inspired me
concerning which way to go, but I decided to take a step forward and prepare to
serve a mission. More than anything, I felt relief for finally having a
decision. Everyone was so proud of that decision, so I felt content with it
because everyone was content with it. And the more I prepared, the more I felt
the Spirit, so I continued to move forward.
Well, during that freshman year of college, a different
issue had begun to arise that complicated my decision to go on a mission: I
began to suffer from depression. I was not living a very healthy life in terms
of food or sleep, I was dealing with a lot of stress, and although I did not
know it, my thyroid had begun to weaken, causing a greater hormonal imbalance.
I was struggling, but at the same time I was trying to ignore the issues at
hand. “Depression” is such a taboo word in society, and so often we think that
if someone is suffering from depression, they must be severely unstable. There
was such a stigma around the idea that I tried to avoid giving it much
attention. However, as the year closed, I began to see that my problem could
not go ignored much longer. I had hit the bottom of the barrel, and I needed to
find my way out.
When I began to discuss my depression and my plans for a
mission with my parents at the beginning of that summer, my dad strongly
encouraged me to first address the depression. He reminded me that a mission is
a stressful environment, and emotional struggles will only amplify on the
mission. I believe that conversation I had with my parents that day must have
been inspired on their side, because it began a journey that completely changed
me and my entire life. I was blessed to have family members who had dealt with
similar emotional concerns, so I had wonderful advice and comfort through every
step. With the help of my parents and siblings, I began to search for a
counselor and a doctor. I would begin to work through my concerns with my
counselor, and we hoped to discover if there might be any physical problems
contributing to my depression with the doctor.
Anemia is not uncommon in our family, so I expected that to
be the issue. It was then that we discovered that I did not have an iron
deficiency, but instead I had thyroid issues that were causing a hormonal
imbalance. Prior to that, none of us had ever considered the possibility of the
thyroid, so I was very blessed to have been able to make that discovery and begin
to treat it.
On the side of counseling, I went through changes that I
never dreamed I could make. I began to work through very personal struggles,
some that I did not even realize were a problem, and I began to get back on my
own two feet with the help of a wonderful counselor and hard work. Through it
all, I put my heart into everything I did and worked hard to do everything the
counselor instructed me to do because I knew my opportunity to serve a mission
was dependent on making a complete recovery. That thought propelled me forward,
and I became very motivated. With counseling, I also began to take a small dose
of an anti-depressant. Counseling and medication also tend to be taboo words in
the world, but I hope to mitigate that. For me, they made all the difference.
Being able to treat my thyroid, address the physical imbalances that were
causing depression, and address the mental struggles that were fueling the
depression, I began to see the world in a much more hopeful light. I honestly
learned who I was that summer. I cannot begin to express how grateful I was for
everything I faced because it taught me such important lessons and redefined me
into someone greater. At the same time, I learned how tied together the spirit
is with the body and mind. As I treated the mind and body, I felt the Spirit
becoming stronger. And as I experienced that, I felt a greater desire to
prepare for the mission by sharing the Gospel with people that I love.
This desire led me to share the gospel more openly with one
of my closest and admirable friends from high school. He had always been an
amazing young man, one that I had looked up to. So, as a mission became a part
of my future, he and I began to discuss the Gospel more openly. I felt a
greater desire for him to meet with the missionaries, and I finally invited him
to do so. In that summer, we were able to meet together with the missionaries,
where we felt an incredible spirit and love from the Savior. I felt the
truthfulness of the gospel so strongly in those discussions, and it made me
even more excited to serve a mission.
So, at the same time that I was meeting with my friend and
continuing with my counseling, I began to work on my mission papers. Because I
was making such large and rapid improvement with my depression, I felt
confident in continuing with my mission plans. I had made the decision to
return to BYU for one more semester so that there was no concern about the
depression returning, but we planned it so that I would send in my papers the
same week I returned to Utah, and my availability date would be set for the beginning
of January. Everything seemed to be going so well, and I felt as if I was
finally on the right track. By the end of the summer, my counselor, bishop, and
Stake President all felt completely confident that I was prepared for a
mission. Even more so, I felt so confident. I was healthy, and I was ready. I
was ready to move forward. At that time, I just did not fully understand how
the Lord planned for me to move forward.
A few weeks into the new semester at BYU, I began to check
up with my bishop almost daily to keep track of the progress my mission call
was making. After a while we began to be confused because the mission call was
still in processing, while a friend who turned it in the same day was already
assigned and had received his call. After a few weeks of waiting for it to
finally be assigned, my bishop said he would call Church Headquarters to check
to make sure that everything was in order. With each day that passed, I became
more and more anxious to receive my call. Finally, as I was leaving the JSB one
morning after class, I had a message on my phone from my bishop. He explained
quickly that a representative from the Mission Department had more or less said
that my call had been put aside because of the large numbers of missionaries
going home early due to depression. At this time, I would not be allowed to
serve a mission, but my bishop said I should call when I was available to
discuss it more fully. I walked home the rest of the way hanging my head so
that people I passed would not see the tears I was unsuccessfully trying to
hold back. I felt hurt, alone, isolated, and like a failure. I couldn't help
but feel like I was not good enough. Once I got home, I called my bishop. He
explained to me that the representative from the Mission Department said that
"the brethren" had prayed carefully about my application, and they
felt that I should not serve a mission at this time, whether that meant
reapplying in a few months or reconsidering if I would like to serve a mission.
My bishop explained that because of the large number of missionaries returning
home because of depression, they were most likely being more careful about
those issues. My bishop is a lighthearted man most of the time, so it was a
sign of how painful it was that you could hear how concerned he was for me. I
did all I could to not start crying on the phone, but as soon as I hung up, I
curled up on my bed and began to bawl. I felt betrayed by the Lord after all
the hard work I had done to prepare for a mission and after I had tried for so
long to do the right thing. I felt abandoned. And for perhaps the first real
time in my life, I was full of bitterness and anger at the Lord. I wanted to
shake my fist at God for doing this to me. I was angry for feeling like I
should serve a mission and then being turned away. I felt ashamed when I
thought of the brethren looking at my application, of them seeing my picture,
and then imagining them all feeling like they didn't want me as a missionary. I
felt confused and alone. Finally, I got to my knees and begged the Lord to help
me understand why and to be brave for when I had to tell others what happened.
I told Him how confused and scared I was, and how I had nothing left. I needed
Him to take the wheel of my life because I had no idea where to go or what to
do anymore.
From that point forward, I decided to go to the temple each
week as I decided whether I should try again to apply and why I was directed
the way I was. It began to bless my life as I had never believed it could. I
found comfort, hope, and understanding there. I felt a closeness to Christ that
I never had before. I realized that without having had a desire to serve a mission,
I easily could have left my depression and thyroid to get worse and worse until
it caused destructive effects. I may have never appreciated the temple as I did
because of what I experienced. I would never have learned about myself and what
I am capable of. I would not have the testimony of the Atonement that I had
developed in that time.
One of the greatest blessings of my experience came last
fall when I received a call from two missionaries serving in California. They
told me that my friend who I had taught with the missionaries wished to be
baptized, and they wanted me to be at his baptism. Last November, my heart was
full of gratitude for everything I had experienced, because it was those things
that made it possible for me to watch him be baptized and hear him share his
testimony of the Gospel and of Jesus Christ. That alone made it all worth it.
Finally, I learned how much better the Lord knows about what
is best for me than I do. As I considered my experiences, I realized that if I
had never considered serving a mission, I would have gone all my life wondering
if I had made the right choice. I would wonder if I had ignored the promptings
of the Spirit, and if I maybe I hadn't done the right thing. Now, because of
what had happened, the Lord helped me see that I done all that I can to follow
Him and I had demonstrated my faith to follow Him wherever He directs, even if
that means following Him as a member missionary.
For me, I realized that it was my personal equivalent of
Abraham being commanded to sacrifice Isaac. Only when Abraham showed that He
was truly willing to obey the Lord was Isaac saved. In my experience, although much smaller than Abraham's, it was only
when I demonstrated that I would follow the Lord if He wanted me on a mission
that He directed me to do His work in a different way, in my normal life.
I needed to demonstrate it to Him but more so to myself. The fact is, the Lord
did not want me to be a missionary in some foreign country right now. He wanted
me to do the work that I can do at home, which can be just as incredible as a
full time mission if I let it inspire and change me to be more like Him.
Since those experiences, I have had marvelous chances in my
own life to be a missionary, a member missionary. I now take every opportunity
to thank the Lord for how I was changed through every step to grow closer to
Him and move forward in the way that He wanted for me. I have been able to
share the joy and love that the Lord wanted me to share in a way that I
possibly never could have if I had been on a mission.
To those who have served, are serving, or will serve
missions: never undervalue the incredible gift you are giving in serving the
Lord. You will be blessed in ways you cannot imagine for your faithfulness.
Because of you, we all have been blessed to receive and rejoice in the Gospel
of Jesus Christ.
For those who feel that the Lord would direct you in another
way to serve him: never undervalue the incredible gift you are giving in
serving the Lord. You will be blessed in ways you cannot imagine for your
faithfulness. Because of you, we all have been blessed to receive and rejoice in
the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Trust in the Lord in all your trials, even when you don’t
understand them. Some will deal with depression. Some won’t. Some will be
called to serve on a full-time mission. Some won’t. Some will be married in
this life. Some won’t. Some will have children. Some won’t. All are loved by
the Lord, and all can find peace and joy in Jesus Christ and his merciful
Atonement. We just need to give our will to the Lord and trust in Him.
“The best two years” are not necessarily made by the nametag
you wear on your shirt. It is made by the name you wear on your heart. If you
wear Christ’s name and follow Him where he directs, you will have joy.
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