I will tell this story now so I can share some principles later. Sorry it is long:
For those who don't know, missionaries for the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints serve for a specific amount of time. My mission call stated that I would be serving for 18 months in the Florida Jacksonville Mission.
So, I put everything on hold and I packed my bags!
I went to Florida and had an experience that I just didn't expect. It is hard to know what to expect I suppose, but this was more than anything I had ever dreamed of. If only I could put into words what sort of things happened to me. Just like the Grinch, I felt like my heart had grown 2 sizes. My capacity to love even complete strangers had grown so big! It felt good to love so many people so deeply :)
And then, 8 months in, I got sick. I stuck it out for a while, 5 months to be exact, and that was all fine and dandy. After a particularly crazy day though, when I had been speaking gibberish and randomly breaking down into tears, I had the sinking feeling that this was the end for me. The thought had crossed my mind a month earlier, but I didn't let it stay long. This time it wasn't leaving.
I did what I needed to. I called the president, I called my mom, and then I went into my room and cried. I have never cried so hard in my life. Every single part of my body was in pain. I could hardly breath. I just knelt down and yelled. "why?! why?! why take away from me what I love most? Why take this away?!" I just didn't understand and it HURT SO BADLY. My heart was breaking and I felt it emotionally, spiritually, and even physically.
The airport was no better. My body just couldn't handle it. I was shaking and light headed and ready to vomit any second. I was just a goner. I was not myself. I didn't really even remember who "myself" was.
So I came home, lost and confused. I didn't know my place. What was I supposed to do all day? What could I do that would get me back to the field that fastest? Why was I here?
Coming home was hard, but so was being a sick missionary. I had been emailing a good friend of mine who was also on a mission in Brazil. Just like me, he had been going to doctors for months trying to figure out a way for him to be healed. We were a great support to each other and our emails were quite hilarious :) We had been friends for a long time and had even dated before his mission. The plan was for me to get well and go back out before he came home; I didn't want to be distracted.
Three weeks after I got home and 6 weeks before he was supposed to come home, I got an email from him. He would be coming home in a couple days.
Blast.
Well, as you would have it, I fell in love with him (again) the night we saw each other. I was smitten and now all of a sudden, I didn't know if I wanted to go back. Turns out he didn't want me to.
I was put in a position where I had two incredible options: go back or get married. Only one was available to pursue however, and no matter which way I turned, my heart would be broken. Sounds a bit cliche, but after my experience with a broken heart, I did not want to face it again.
Marriage has always been more important to me than a mission, because of the covenants we make and just because it is a big part of God's plan. But now I had tasted what a mission was like and it was pretty amazing.
I cried and cried and cried, knowing deep down that I had to choose to stay. It still hurt.
One day when discussing this stuff with my mom, she said,
And so I made my choice, and I trusted. And He has! It has been a slow process, and even to this day I ache for the chance to go back and to serve my Savior as a full-time missionary. But I know I have made the right choice and more than anything, I KNOW that the Savior can HEAL ALL WOUNDS.
I trust that. I know that.
For those who don't know, missionaries for the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints serve for a specific amount of time. My mission call stated that I would be serving for 18 months in the Florida Jacksonville Mission.
So, I put everything on hold and I packed my bags!
I went to Florida and had an experience that I just didn't expect. It is hard to know what to expect I suppose, but this was more than anything I had ever dreamed of. If only I could put into words what sort of things happened to me. Just like the Grinch, I felt like my heart had grown 2 sizes. My capacity to love even complete strangers had grown so big! It felt good to love so many people so deeply :)
And then, 8 months in, I got sick. I stuck it out for a while, 5 months to be exact, and that was all fine and dandy. After a particularly crazy day though, when I had been speaking gibberish and randomly breaking down into tears, I had the sinking feeling that this was the end for me. The thought had crossed my mind a month earlier, but I didn't let it stay long. This time it wasn't leaving.
I did what I needed to. I called the president, I called my mom, and then I went into my room and cried. I have never cried so hard in my life. Every single part of my body was in pain. I could hardly breath. I just knelt down and yelled. "why?! why?! why take away from me what I love most? Why take this away?!" I just didn't understand and it HURT SO BADLY. My heart was breaking and I felt it emotionally, spiritually, and even physically.
The airport was no better. My body just couldn't handle it. I was shaking and light headed and ready to vomit any second. I was just a goner. I was not myself. I didn't really even remember who "myself" was.
So I came home, lost and confused. I didn't know my place. What was I supposed to do all day? What could I do that would get me back to the field that fastest? Why was I here?
Coming home was hard, but so was being a sick missionary. I had been emailing a good friend of mine who was also on a mission in Brazil. Just like me, he had been going to doctors for months trying to figure out a way for him to be healed. We were a great support to each other and our emails were quite hilarious :) We had been friends for a long time and had even dated before his mission. The plan was for me to get well and go back out before he came home; I didn't want to be distracted.
Three weeks after I got home and 6 weeks before he was supposed to come home, I got an email from him. He would be coming home in a couple days.
Blast.
Well, as you would have it, I fell in love with him (again) the night we saw each other. I was smitten and now all of a sudden, I didn't know if I wanted to go back. Turns out he didn't want me to.
I was put in a position where I had two incredible options: go back or get married. Only one was available to pursue however, and no matter which way I turned, my heart would be broken. Sounds a bit cliche, but after my experience with a broken heart, I did not want to face it again.
Marriage has always been more important to me than a mission, because of the covenants we make and just because it is a big part of God's plan. But now I had tasted what a mission was like and it was pretty amazing.
I cried and cried and cried, knowing deep down that I had to choose to stay. It still hurt.
One day when discussing this stuff with my mom, she said,
"No matter what you choose, the Savior can heal your heart."
And so I made my choice, and I trusted. And He has! It has been a slow process, and even to this day I ache for the chance to go back and to serve my Savior as a full-time missionary. But I know I have made the right choice and more than anything, I KNOW that the Savior can HEAL ALL WOUNDS.
I trust that. I know that.
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