mission thoughts

Well my mission papers are in. In about two weeks, I’ll know where I’m going and when. It’s all vaguely surreal. My papers had been put off for so long, mostly because of health issues, that the prospect of a mission seemed to get further and further away. And now they’re in. They’re done. They’re one hundred percent, totally and completely off my hands. And now all I can do is pray.

People keep asking me where I want to go. I always thought that having a place I want to go is rather ridiculous, because in all the returned missionaries I’ve spoken to, that seems to have a reverse effect, if any, on their mission call. One friend didn’t want to go anywhere cold, and she went to Sweden. One friend said the only place he didn’t want to go was Salt Lake City, and that’s where he was called. I heard of one guy who figured he’d go somewhere Spanish-speaking, because of the plethora of rapidly-growing missions in South America, so he studied Spanish and went on splits with Spanish-speaking missionaries until he was pretty dang fluent in Spanish, and in missionary Spanish to boot. He went to Finland. Even your language study doesn’t always determine where you’ll go. There is a flip side to this coin, however. While in Finland he met a man from South America who only spoke Spanish, and was able to teach him the first lesson. I’ve been studying Swedish at BYU, and have gotten fairly proficient at it. So a lot of people say I’m going to go to Sweden. But every classmate I’ve had in my Swedish classes wanted to go to Sweden, and none of them has. One went to Finland, another to Washington, D.C., another to Hungary (or so I heard), and so on. So I don’t see Sweden being particularly likely. I do, however, believe that wherever I go, something I have learned from taking Swedish–be it the language itself or just some obscure interest I’ve developed as a result–will come in handy in teaching or serving someone, or just brightening someone’s day. I firmly believe that. And while it is my dream to go to Sweden someday, it’s okay if I don’t go there on my mission, because no matter what I’ll go there eventually.

My philosophy has been to not have a place where I don’t want to go, because I would just end up cursing myself as they say. Granted, somewhere in Utah or Idaho might be kind of disappointing, but I know that I would learn to love it. The only places I’ve ever gone that I truly, honestly didn’t like were New York City (Times Square) and Logan, Utah. Both places were smelly. But I’m sure I could even get used to either place if that was where the Lord needed me to be. And really, no offense if you’re from either of those places. I just wasn’t there long enough to get over my first impression. And I don’t believe much in first impressions. You almost always end up learning something about a person or place that makes you understand them so much better and makes you wonder why you ever looked at them askance.

One last thought (and kind of a change of subject) on my mission before I sign off here. This past week I’ve been staying up heinously late every night, not really making up for it during the day, and eating nothing but junk. And it occurred to me today (halfway through the Gilroy Garlic Festival, by the way–but don’t worry, it didn’t ruin my fun ) that if I’m going to be healthy on my mission (because there’s no guaranteeing that my health problems won’t pop up again like daisies), I need to start taking better care of myself now. Junk food is fun every once in a while as a treat, but it certainly shouldn’t be a staple. And, as a previous sufferer of mono, I need my sleep. The easiest way to do that (other than quitting my semi-lucrative job) is to live more moderately and go to bed a little earlier. And hopefully exercise should come into the picture. I’ve never been a health nut, for heaven’s sake, but I’m starting to learn the hard way how to recognize when my body needs more than I’ve been giving it. I could of course just keep praying that I’ll be healthy enough to go, but, as a picture that hung on my grandfather’s office wall for years says:

Just sittin’ and wishin’
won’t change your fate.
The Lord provides the fishin’
but you have to dig the bait.