Called to Serve: My Story

Choosing to serve a mission has been a long road for me. I have never shared all of my thoughts about it at once, so I am going to do so in this post.

In October 2012, President Thomas S. Monson announced the missionary age change. Young women could now serve beginning at age 19 if they chose to do so.

I know many girls my age heard these words and knew that a mission was supposed to be the next step in their life.

I literally felt nothing. Nothing. I felt absolutely no different than I had felt ten minutes previous. I did realize that this would mean a lot of change in that many of my friends would be leaving much earlier than they had previously anticipated, but aside from that, I felt no affect on my personal life.

In the next few months I thought about a mission... and then laughed. Surely a mission wasn't for me. I couldn't see myself as a missionary, and it wasn't in my plan. Maybe after college if the time was right, but there was no way I was taking a break from school to serve. That would be ridiculous.

Fast-forward about a year and a half to March of 2014. At this point in my life, I had almost completed a year and a half of college at Brigham Young University in Provo, UT, I had a part-time job on-campus which I love... I was in a good place. After some thought and contemplation, I decided that a mission might be good for me--in a year! In this year, I could apply to the Business Management major at BYU and have enough time to prepare mentally and spiritually.

March 31, 2014. I was emailing a friend of mine who is currently serving a mission in Mexico, and I told him the news that I had been considering serving a mission in a year!! I was so excited with this news. His response left me dumbfounded: "A YEAR?!? That's soooo long from now! You should put in your papers like tomorrow!"

I laughed.

But then I sat there, and it hit me--what if I did. What if I did put in my papers now.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it didn't feel wrong. The Spirit was testifying to me so strongly that this gospel is true, I felt as if my heart was going to burst out of my chest. According to my journal I "felt this burning desire to share the gospel with the entire world. I've only felt that a couple times in my life."

I met with my YSA Bishop exactly three days later (it was the earliest appointment I could get). That Saturday (4/5/2014) I received access to my mission papers. I completed all of the requirements, then met with my Stake President from home on April 27. And my call was assigned that week, to be expected May 7-8. 

May I just say...knowing that where you're going to be spending a year and a half of your life is on a paper somewhere in the mail system and not being able to see it is NERVE-WRACKING? So not a fair feeling.
It did not arrive on Wednesday May 7th, to my dismay. I went home and cried for a few minutes, I believe. But there was a tiny, tiny chance it could arrive on Thursday. I told my parents to just send me a picture of the envelope if it arrived on Thursday.
I received this at work on Thursday:

I thought very seriously about getting on the train that hour to rush home and open it... but Dad helped me decide that I could wait another day. In this day, I decided I would open it with my parents, siblings and grandparents at my home.
I think I hardly slept Thursday night.

Friday morning, I got out of bed and decided:
I was going to open my mission call by myself.
This was a very personal decision for me... long story short, I figured that as the decision to serve a mission was between me and the Lord, I wanted two people with me at my mission call opening: myself and the Lord.

As soon as I got home, I grabbed the envelope, Mom's keys and my journal.
I drove up to Holbrook Canyon, a beautiful canyon that overlooks the Bountiful temple in my hometown, Bountiful, UT.
There is a bench at the top looking directly over the temple. I sat there with my call in my hands for maybe twelve minutes, just looking at it. My hands were shaking.

I remember that I kept stalling... I opened my Book of Mormon and tried to read some verses but I couldn't focus. I finally took my cheap plastic pen and ripped open the top. Pulled the call out without looking, flipped it behind the envelope so I could see one line at a time, and decided to get it over with.

My voice shaking, I read aloud:

Dear Sister Hill,

You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
You are assigned to labor in the Brazil Brasília Mission. It is anticipated that you will serve for a period of 18 months.

You should report to the Brazil Missionary Training Center on Wednesday, September 10, 2014. You will prepare to preach the gospel in the Portuguese language.

Let's just say, I haven't cried that hard in a really, really long time.
Tears were happiness, pure joy. Gratitude that Heavenly Father trusts me enough to call me to this great work.

After I spent some time on that peak by myself with the Lord, I hiked back down and drove home to read it aloud to my parents. I then drove to my grandma's house and read it to her, as she's been my biggest cheerleader my entire life.

Never in my entire life did I think I would have a mission call in my hands. Trust me, this was as much a surprise to me as it was to many of you.

I know that many people were unhappy that I did not make it a very public announcement that I was submitting my papers and deciding to serve, but I hope these people can understand that this was a very personal decision for me and I had to really make sure that this is what I want in my life.

And I know it is indeed what I want.

I wrote my acceptance letter to the brethren about a week after I opened my call:

I will close with my simple but pure testimony.

I know that the gospel of Jesus Christ is real and it is true. I know that Jesus Christ suffered in the Garden so that you, me and the entire world could repent and return to God someday. I know that the Lord has given us guidelines and commandments to make us happy, not to make us sad or frustrated. I know that the Lord has a purpose in everything, even if we cannot see it with our natural eyes. I know that the Book of Mormon is correct and full of truth and light; if we read it, we can gain an understanding of the eternities.

I know that with the Lord, anything and everything is possible.

I can't wait to bring my brothers in sisters in Brazil to a knowledge of their Savior and Redeemer.

the 6-8 page essay

Last night I got home from a Cat Poncho meeting at around 11:30pm.

As soon as I got home I was dreading what would come next.

At 10:46am I was to review my 6-8 page Issues paper with my writing teacher so he could give me tips and instruct me on how to improve my paper.

I wanted to try and jump into it as quickly as I could, try and finish it as soon as possible. But I remembered that I had not yet read my scriptures for the day.

I know--mainly from my own experience--that if I read my scriptures before diving into my own homework, my homework is always easier and makes more sense to me.

So I did.

I spent about 20 minutes reading my scriptures and focusing on the principles and applications found in them. I wrote in my journal my thoughts and feelings. Some good scripture studying was done.

But my head kept falling over, I kept drifting off to sleep.

I didn't know how I was supposed to write five more pages of a paper I had barely researched without falling asleep. Hopefully I would even understand what I was reading and writing.

I remember writing in my journal: "Heavenly Father, PLEASE help me not to fall asleep so that I can finish this paper."

I closed my scriptures, and got to work.

It was only about an hour and a half later when I realized: thoughts had come to my mind that I could never have formulated myself.

I understood what the articles were saying better than I had before.

Words came easily to my mind, and sentences flowed really well.

Up until this point I had just taken credit for the wonderful job I was doing.

But I realized as soon as I was about halfway through the paper that Heavenly Father was blessing me for reading my scriptures before I did my homework.

I reviewed my paper with my teacher this morning, and he really liked it! 

I know that Heavenly Father knows us, and He knows what we need help with. He will bless us if we do His homework before I own, and I have testimony of this.

the lost (again) ring

So I have this ring...

It's really special to me. I think I wrote a blog post about it before and how I found it in a bag I bought from Plato's closet.
As you can see in the picture, it has the tree of life on it.
I think it's beautiful.

I lost it on campus yesterday. I knew where--the bathroom on the 3rd floor of the Wilkinson center. Because I took it off to wash my hands and then forgot to put it back on. Happens to me about four times a week, normally in my apartment.

I was so sure somebody had taken it to the Lost & Found. But there's always that little hint of a doubt that creeps in that makes you wonder "What if it isn't?"
I couldn't make it to the Lost & Found the day that I lost it. And I felt so sick about the fact that it wasn't on my finger as it always is.

I prayed for Heavenly Father to give me peace, that I could forget about the fact that it was not in its proper place.
He did.

I had so much peace about it, that I about completely forgot about it.

Today (Tuesday), I was walking past the Lost & Found and remembered that my ring might be there.
I walked in and asked for it: sure enough, there it was with a piece of a tape labeled "3--10".

I know it's not a big deal. It is just a ring.
But to me, it's a big deal.
And the Lord knows that.

He reminds me daily--and this was just a single experience--that He loves me, He knows me, and he cares about my life! And the things that are important to me? They are important to Him too.

I'm so grateful for a Heavenly Father that knows me and reminds me of it.

don't let go

Christ will never give up on us.

Even if we leave Him, even if we force ourselves to completely forget Him and shut Him out of our lives... He still loves us just the same.
His love for us is eternal.
Even when ours is not.

Even when we turn our back on Him,
He is still there to pick us up when we fall.
Even if we give ourselves the credit for succeeding.
 
Even when we betray Him,
He will still wipe away our tears.
Even when we tell ourselves how strong we are and that we can do it on our own.

He will sit with us.
He will listen to us.
He will hold us.
He will carry us.
We can't let go, we can't.
He cannot be a convenience or a nicety in our lives.
He must be our everything.
We must be willing to give Him our all. Even if that means the suffering and the pain and the sickness and the affliction, because He knows how that is.
He's the only One who can and will ever know exactly how you feel at any given point in time.

Hold onto Him.
Don't let Him go, it's not worth it.
I promise you will be so much happier if you just keep Him close to you.
The happiest I've ever been is when I'm the closest to my Heavenly Father and my Savior.

I love my Savior.
I love my God.
And I love this gospel.
I know I'm not perfect, I won't be for a very long time.
But I have a perfect knowledge that God is real, and that His Son Jesus Christ came to this earth to suffer and die for me.

Thank goodness I have this gospel in my life. <3