Monday, May 27, 2013
Minutes
That's all I have. By 7:30 I will be set apart as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I cannot express to you all the things that are going through my mind, because I am not quite sure what they are. I have a mix of emotions that are pounding through me every second. Mostly, I feel excitement. I feel like a surreal blur of adventure is getting closer and closer into my view. I will no longer wonder what my mission will be like; I am going to live it. I have this anxiety that I am not well enough prepared, that I don't know enough, that I am not strong enough to be a successful missionary. I do know however, that I love my Savior. He has been my closest, most caring friend. He has never been a disappointment to me, though I have been so many times over. I know without a doubt that He lives. I know that He knows and loves each of God's children infinitely. I am so excited to be His hands and bringing others unto Him. He blessed me with a mom who I could not be more like. I love her for all that she is, and all that she does for me. Her testimony, and my dad's testimony got me where I am today because they lived it. I am so excited to be a missionary. It is the craziest, most perfect thing I have ever decided to do. Pray for me, and know I'm praying for you. Off to Utica, see you in 18.
Friday, May 10, 2013
19 Days for the 19-year-old
My heart just started beating faster from writing that title. I can't believe it. My future as a missionary has seemed so surreal for so long. Now every night, I go to bed a little more anxiously, knowing that when I wake up, I'm one day closer. (Okay let's be real, it's usually about 1 AM by the time I go to bed...so it's not like I am being super precise with this countdown; but still, I'm running on Mormon Standard Time which tells me that it's only Sunday once I've woken up from the previous night's sleep. Maybe I've begun to apply that to the other 6 days). So for whatever reason, I go to bed a little bit nervous, a whole lot excited, and mostly trying to dream about a life I have had only a small glimpse of. It's going to be hard. That's the first thing people tell me. 98% of the time it's followed up with some optimistic phrase beginning with "but", "it will be worth it" or "it's the best thing I've ever done" or "you're going to love it". I think the last phrase is my favorite. I mean, I know the first two are a given- It's the Lord's work, of course it's going to be the best and greatest and most 'of-worth' thing I'll ever do! I mean, I'm 19 years old privileged BYU college student; I haven't performed any great things, and my life certainly hasn't been that hard (though if you'd like to see my earlier opinions on that, I have a couple excerpts from a 12-year-old diary that I can very well perform a dramatic reading on).
I am excited to love it. I am excited to love the people I meet. I am excited to love what I do, everyday, and to love the Savior more. I am astounded how much more I have come to love and understand the scriptures. I read for myself and for my investigators, and it makes me so excited to share what I have found and feel with them. I have begun anticipating concerns or questions, or problems in life that they didn't think anyone had the answer to. It's an amazing feeling to be able to bring peace into someone's life-- to be the gate opener to the spirit of God, and let Him change people.
That girl is about to be a Sister Missionary.
Monday, March 11, 2013
The Call
Well let's just jump the gun here-- On May 29th I leave to the MTC to begin my service in the New York Utica mission. I am completely excited. Now, here's the story, in a more chronological sense:
I finally, finally got my last interview on that Thursday (see last post for the full description of frustration). It was great. I got my list of to-do's from the stake president, and he assured me my papers would be submitted on Sunday, and I should get my call the next Wednesday. In hindsight, I need to give some credit to God for his timing. My grandmother passed away that week, and my family would be up here for her funeral. Had the stake president been timely (with regards to the other 100 girls looking to interview) and all papers filled-out correctly, I could not have possibly waited for my family to get here. I guess he's got a plan after all.
I was surprisingly calm. Oh of course, I never hit the pillow in a passed-out stupor like I usually did; I was kept awake for a few minutes to think about all the possibilities. The excitement lasted all night and got me up a bit easier in the morning. I was just so relieved that it was finally out of my hands, there was no further pestering I could do to the poor executive secretary that somehow still didn't know who I was when I went in every week to check up on any appointment availability. But all in all, I still managed to live normally day to day, get what I needed done, and keep it silently in the back of my mind. I think it's part of my nature to have things hit me late. I accept change I think fairly easily. Even when I had moved to BYU only 2 weeks after graduation, I felt apathetic. Even after setting up my room, unpacking, and saying goodbye to the family, and in bed awaiting the first day of college in a new state, in a giant university, with little knowledge of what to expect, I accepted that and went to sleep.
I'm guessing that's how I'll be, stepping off the plane in New York in 2 1/2 months. That might be a bit more of shell shock, maybe.
I had found out from a few friends that in the previous weeks, calls had been coming in on Thursdays. I decided to anticipate the same for me, but you can't blame me for hiding the mail key before I went to school, just in case. Well it didn't come and that was fine, I had only 24 more hours to wait. I could handle that. I decided to actually study well and distract myself...hopefully the hours would fly by. I texted my parents early on Thursday morning to make sure they had left on time to get here by 6 (The Curtis Family Vacation Watch usually has us running on average about 2.5 hours late). They had. My Valentine's Day was going to be the best ever.
Well it wasn't. It wasn't here. I was heartbroken. The timing hadn't worked...it was all for naught and now I was mad at the stake president again (whoops!). I had forgiven him since the untimely fashion allowed my parents to be here, but now they would be leaving on Monday morning and I had no call. I began stalking hashtags on Instagram and Twitter and Facebook to see if everyone had received theirs and it was just mine that was the mishap, or if I could have any hope for Friday. It seemed I could hope a little bit, but I didn't want to be disappointed again.
We attended the funeral and had our fill of the typically delicious funeral potatoes and ham. After half the day was gone, it was time to check the mailbox. I really, really didn't want to. I was scared. It was black and white. I either had it or didn't, and if it wasn't today, my family wouldn't be here to see it.
It worked out. I suppose things like that tend to do that.
I finally, finally got my last interview on that Thursday (see last post for the full description of frustration). It was great. I got my list of to-do's from the stake president, and he assured me my papers would be submitted on Sunday, and I should get my call the next Wednesday. In hindsight, I need to give some credit to God for his timing. My grandmother passed away that week, and my family would be up here for her funeral. Had the stake president been timely (with regards to the other 100 girls looking to interview) and all papers filled-out correctly, I could not have possibly waited for my family to get here. I guess he's got a plan after all.
I was surprisingly calm. Oh of course, I never hit the pillow in a passed-out stupor like I usually did; I was kept awake for a few minutes to think about all the possibilities. The excitement lasted all night and got me up a bit easier in the morning. I was just so relieved that it was finally out of my hands, there was no further pestering I could do to the poor executive secretary that somehow still didn't know who I was when I went in every week to check up on any appointment availability. But all in all, I still managed to live normally day to day, get what I needed done, and keep it silently in the back of my mind. I think it's part of my nature to have things hit me late. I accept change I think fairly easily. Even when I had moved to BYU only 2 weeks after graduation, I felt apathetic. Even after setting up my room, unpacking, and saying goodbye to the family, and in bed awaiting the first day of college in a new state, in a giant university, with little knowledge of what to expect, I accepted that and went to sleep.
I'm guessing that's how I'll be, stepping off the plane in New York in 2 1/2 months. That might be a bit more of shell shock, maybe.
I had found out from a few friends that in the previous weeks, calls had been coming in on Thursdays. I decided to anticipate the same for me, but you can't blame me for hiding the mail key before I went to school, just in case. Well it didn't come and that was fine, I had only 24 more hours to wait. I could handle that. I decided to actually study well and distract myself...hopefully the hours would fly by. I texted my parents early on Thursday morning to make sure they had left on time to get here by 6 (The Curtis Family Vacation Watch usually has us running on average about 2.5 hours late). They had. My Valentine's Day was going to be the best ever.
Well it wasn't. It wasn't here. I was heartbroken. The timing hadn't worked...it was all for naught and now I was mad at the stake president again (whoops!). I had forgiven him since the untimely fashion allowed my parents to be here, but now they would be leaving on Monday morning and I had no call. I began stalking hashtags on Instagram and Twitter and Facebook to see if everyone had received theirs and it was just mine that was the mishap, or if I could have any hope for Friday. It seemed I could hope a little bit, but I didn't want to be disappointed again.
We attended the funeral and had our fill of the typically delicious funeral potatoes and ham. After half the day was gone, it was time to check the mailbox. I really, really didn't want to. I was scared. It was black and white. I either had it or didn't, and if it wasn't today, my family wouldn't be here to see it.
It worked out. I suppose things like that tend to do that.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Just Lots and Lots of Words
It's getting hard to do my homework. So i thought that I would settle down a bit by blogging. I am so happy, I just didn't know how else to properly express it. Which is great, because I wasn't quite sure until I sat down just exactly why I was so happy. There has been a lot of simple excitement going on in my life. Over the break, I had the chance to stay in beautiful, sunny California and earn money for my mission. I would be an au pair to an eccentric little family in Los Angeles, and live under the Hollywood sign. I would get the kids up in the mornings and put them down at night, and get the rest of the day to roam one of the greatest cities in America. I would earn about $10,000-enough to fully pay for my mission- all while living a dream and traveling over the summer with the family. I would get Sundays off, and an internship with a Speech Pathologist. It was all too perfect. It wasn't right. I knew it almost instantly as I left the family's meet and greet. I didn't know why. It wasn't even a "you can make this decision because they are both good". It was a heartbreaking no. I have now found there are at least two reasons why I needed to be here:
I got called to be the Sunday School Teacher. I was so terrified the first time I taught. I didn't even know until the night before, when I was laying on my bed with the manual just crying. I felt like people expected too much out of me, and that it was just going to be a flop. I didn't want to be boring and redundant. Most of all, I was scared that I wouldn't be able to teach with the spirit, so I would be all alone, trying to drag out this horrible lesson to fill the time. It wasn't so. Well, at least to me. I feel like I get the most out of the lesson I prepare, and perhaps that's the purpose. I have found that when I start to write, I write things I didn't know I was thinking (hint, hint this drawn out blog).
My Missionary Prep class has been one of the most amazing blessings in my life. It will make me such a better missionary, a better student, a better follower of Christ, and a better Mom one day. I am, or nearly am, teary-eyed every class. I feel the spirit so much and I feel myself becoming more and more prepared to wear the name of Christ. I love that class. I know I couldn't have possibly missed it for the world. I know I would never have been so uplifted had I prepared on my own. I am so incredibly humbled that God would want me here, learning and growing, so that he could send me on a mission. I have never felt so sure of anything in my life. He wants me. I am judgmental, stubborn, and easily offended. I am not super outgoing, and have never been the greatest example of Christ-like attributes. I feel like my imperfections are so obvious. Yet I know the Lord is calling me on a mission. I am so excited it hurts.
With that excitement, I have become impatient. I submitted my papers 2 weeks ago and little things kept going wrong. I didn't check off a box on this form; my doctor's phone number wasn't written down... and I had to wait and wait and wait. I thought it would only be a couple days later I would get my final interview with my Stake President and off they would go to Salt Lake City to decide where I should go. I was getting frustrated. They kept telling me this day, and then the next, until finally it was a week past when they said they could take me. I was getting annoyed and just wanted to know where I was going. I went to the temple and just felt this peace that it in the end, it all wouldn't matter how long I waited. I was going to go just the same, and I would be blessed for it. I thought of my family and how I hoped my service and commitment would bless them. I thought of my future, and just felt this overwhelming peace that it was going to be amazing, and to just be patient. That I would get my call, and I should be grateful for the time I have to be excited and wonder and pray about it. My interview is tomorrow.
I have also had this nagging fear that I am in the wrong major. I just haven't been in love with the classes (I mean, come on...anatomy nearly killed me and that was alongside a grammar course...) and was scared that I should be loving the classes, especially when I would need to complete graduate school in order to get a decent job. But I was scared that I didn't want to get out of it in fear of wasting money and time in classes that I've already taken. That I would just choose to stay in this major because I could make good money, and have good job placement, or that everyone else that has done it loves it. I had been praying to know if I was in the right major, and if not, to have the courage to leave it. I want to be happy, not stuck. Today, on my way to Speech Anatomy (which I had already decided to hate because of it's title) I ran into a group of first graders on a field trip. They were so energetic and happy and I just thought how fun and fulfilling my career would be working with them. I guess I got my answer.
So, as long winded as that is, I have found happiness.The Lord has been with me every day and that is such a blessing. I am so humbled that he has such a hand in my life, and that it is of importance to him. I am so humbled to know the answers to my prayers. I know I won't always get them as easily or quickly as I have lately, but I am savoring the time that I do. It is amazing to feel like I am in the right place, at the right time, doing the right things.
I got called to be the Sunday School Teacher. I was so terrified the first time I taught. I didn't even know until the night before, when I was laying on my bed with the manual just crying. I felt like people expected too much out of me, and that it was just going to be a flop. I didn't want to be boring and redundant. Most of all, I was scared that I wouldn't be able to teach with the spirit, so I would be all alone, trying to drag out this horrible lesson to fill the time. It wasn't so. Well, at least to me. I feel like I get the most out of the lesson I prepare, and perhaps that's the purpose. I have found that when I start to write, I write things I didn't know I was thinking (hint, hint this drawn out blog).
My Missionary Prep class has been one of the most amazing blessings in my life. It will make me such a better missionary, a better student, a better follower of Christ, and a better Mom one day. I am, or nearly am, teary-eyed every class. I feel the spirit so much and I feel myself becoming more and more prepared to wear the name of Christ. I love that class. I know I couldn't have possibly missed it for the world. I know I would never have been so uplifted had I prepared on my own. I am so incredibly humbled that God would want me here, learning and growing, so that he could send me on a mission. I have never felt so sure of anything in my life. He wants me. I am judgmental, stubborn, and easily offended. I am not super outgoing, and have never been the greatest example of Christ-like attributes. I feel like my imperfections are so obvious. Yet I know the Lord is calling me on a mission. I am so excited it hurts.
With that excitement, I have become impatient. I submitted my papers 2 weeks ago and little things kept going wrong. I didn't check off a box on this form; my doctor's phone number wasn't written down... and I had to wait and wait and wait. I thought it would only be a couple days later I would get my final interview with my Stake President and off they would go to Salt Lake City to decide where I should go. I was getting frustrated. They kept telling me this day, and then the next, until finally it was a week past when they said they could take me. I was getting annoyed and just wanted to know where I was going. I went to the temple and just felt this peace that it in the end, it all wouldn't matter how long I waited. I was going to go just the same, and I would be blessed for it. I thought of my family and how I hoped my service and commitment would bless them. I thought of my future, and just felt this overwhelming peace that it was going to be amazing, and to just be patient. That I would get my call, and I should be grateful for the time I have to be excited and wonder and pray about it. My interview is tomorrow.
I have also had this nagging fear that I am in the wrong major. I just haven't been in love with the classes (I mean, come on...anatomy nearly killed me and that was alongside a grammar course...) and was scared that I should be loving the classes, especially when I would need to complete graduate school in order to get a decent job. But I was scared that I didn't want to get out of it in fear of wasting money and time in classes that I've already taken. That I would just choose to stay in this major because I could make good money, and have good job placement, or that everyone else that has done it loves it. I had been praying to know if I was in the right major, and if not, to have the courage to leave it. I want to be happy, not stuck. Today, on my way to Speech Anatomy (which I had already decided to hate because of it's title) I ran into a group of first graders on a field trip. They were so energetic and happy and I just thought how fun and fulfilling my career would be working with them. I guess I got my answer.
So, as long winded as that is, I have found happiness.The Lord has been with me every day and that is such a blessing. I am so humbled that he has such a hand in my life, and that it is of importance to him. I am so humbled to know the answers to my prayers. I know I won't always get them as easily or quickly as I have lately, but I am savoring the time that I do. It is amazing to feel like I am in the right place, at the right time, doing the right things.
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