Valentines, Chimichurri and a Big Ole Envelope

Let me take you on a journey, back to when I was 14 years old: awkward, clad in braces and living it up at my first Especially For Youth camp...

I was in one of the lectures when the instructor asked, "who here, including girls, wants to serve a mission?"

I had never thought about it before, but my hand shot straight up in the air.  I wanted to serve a mission, who knew?  I did, after that fateful moment, so I started telling people.  It is not as though I went around from that day on shouting at random people on the street "hey you! I'm going to serve a mission!" But you know, I casually mentioned it to my parents, told some of my friends and would talk about it in seminary over the next several years.  Then in my senior year of high school my best friend Katie and I make the pact that we would put our mission papers in at the same time, so we will be apart from each other for as little time as possible.

All of these things were easy to say and do, it was easy to tell people I was going on a mission when I was 14-20 years old, because it was something that was so far away in the future, the real ramifications of my decision did not really hit me.  Those scarey, reality ridden thoughts were for later.  It was not until that fateful Saturday morning session of Conference October 6, 2012 when the missionary atom bomb was dropped by President Thomas S. Monson.  I could go on a mission, and I could go tomorrow if I got my poop together. I got scared.  Katie didn't.  That announcement rocked her world, she was going on and on about "what should I do?" and "should I finish out the academic school year?" and "should I finish my Italian minor before I go?" and all of these questions that I should have been asking myself, when in reality all I was thinking was "crap crap crap, holy freaking crap."

So Katie talked to her Bishop, got her physical and met with the Stake President and that was that.  I supported her all the way, but told her and my parents that I did not think I was going to do the whole "mission" thing anymore.  My parents were a little relieved, they no longer had to worry about losing their baby for 18 months to heaven knows where and Katie was supportive, but she never gave up the feeling that I would, indeed, follow her into the mission field.

A few weeks passed and my Ma and I went up to my Gma's ward to listen to the former Rome, Italy Mission President speak.  He talked about some of the miracles that happened in the building of the Rome temple and it was lovely. But the moment the person saying the closing prayer said "amen" I had this overwhelming feeling, like that summer day at EFY, that felt like "YOU'RE GOING ON A MISSION!!" and I was like "OKAY!"

I turned to my aunt Debbie and, with tears streaming down my face, said "Deb, I'm going on a mission," then I turned to my cousin Chloe and told her the same thing, I texted Katie to tell her, and by then, the news had reached my mom at the end of the pew and she shot her head out and looked at me with a slightly dazed expression and said "you're going on a mission?"

So like Katie before me, I talked to my Bishop, got my physical and met with the Stake President. My mission became a little more real.

A month or so passed, and Katie got her mission call: Milan, Italy.  If Katie could have chosen the mission she wanted to go to, it would have been Milan.  I was not surprised, I was (if I am honest) really jealous.  Katie was going to go to her first choice mission, something that simply does not happen.  It was the mission of dreams, the heart of Europe and all its culture and food and history.  Where would I go?  If Katie got to go to Italy, I would probably go to Cleveland, Ohio so the mission karma of the universe could be evened out. I kept telling myself that I would go anywhere, and I truly would, but it would be hard to compete with Italy when it came right down to it.

So I waited.  Then on Wednesday February 13, 2013 I came home expecting everything and got nothing.  It was the most disappointing moment of my life.  I had to call excited family members and tell them my call did not come, I called Katie, I prayed.

Then, the day of days. Valentines Day.  I come home and there is a big, white, church issued envelope in the mail with MY name on it.  My two friends Brad and Heather were over at my house because I was hosting a dinner that night for my single besties (Brad, Heather, Katie and my other best friend Josh) consisting of steak and homemade Chimichurri.  I bee-lined for the mail box, pulled out my beautiful white envelope and just started screaming and shaking and running around my house like a fool.  Family was called, Katie rushed over sooner than expected, my brother and his wife were Skyped in from California, my dad and step mom were iChatted in from the LA airport, by 7pm everyone was there and I could not wait any longer.

I was going on a mission, and I was going to the Philippines. Holy ish just got real.