Yesterday I knew there was some sort of occasion to be remembered, but it took until today to remember. May 9th is the seventh anniversary of my mission call, so I thought I'd blog about that.
I remember putting in my paperwork and waiting not-so-patiently for my call (which only came after about three weeks). What I remember about the time was that my mother had just watched Cast Away and thought I would get called to Russia. At the same time people kept asking me where I'd like to go. My response was that I wouldn't say where I wanted to go because then I won't get sent there. But I don't want to go to Salt Lake City!
My reasons for that is I figured everyone in SLC was either LDS already or had heard about it enough that they were sick of it. My mission papers arrive, and I'm going to...Salt Lake City. Ooh boy. But on the bright side, a friend of mine got his papers about the same time and got sent to Russia. The other friend went to Australia, on a Mandarin speaking mission. I remember taking German in High School and not doing very well in the subject. So maybe I got lucky.
The thing about SLC that a lot of people don't realize is that it isn't mostly LDS. It's only about 40%, and of those, only about a third are active. So there's plenty of work to do. And the Utah missions were always the highest baptizing English speaking missions.
I have this polaroid picture (back when they had polaroids), somewhere in my belongings, of my family (my mother and two sisters) and I at the Kansas City International Airport on the day I flew out. It traveled throughout my mission and usually was posted at my desk. You can even see my airplane tickets sticking out of my suit pocket. Consequentally that day was the first time I had flown.
Now, if you've served a mission, you know the instructions they give you are as clear as mud. On the plane I started freaking out that I'd get lost, wouldn't get to the MTC, and there would be all kinds of trouble. I remember thinking that I really needed a companion. (At this time I had never lived away from home or traveled anywhere without my family-sheltered life, I know.)
Well, funny thing, I was provided with a companion. At the SLC airport, while trying to find the shuttle that was going to take me to the MTC, I met Sister McRitchie, a sister from Alberta, Canada. We stayed close while waiting/trying to find this shuttle, all the way to the the MTC. It didn't really do anything to help because she didn't know any more than me, but there's a certain comfort knowing that if you get lost, at least you're not lost AND alone.
Through the mission I joked that my first companion was a sister.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Ummm...did you know that this is April and not May? :)
It's always funny, the little things we remember so clearly that have such an impact on us. I'll bet that sister was just as grateful for you as you were for her. Probably more so since she was from another country (I know, Canada isn't that far but still...)
I didn't really care where I was called to, but I always thought in my head, "just not Utah, I don't think I could handle that!" Then, bingo! My call came in to SLC. Ah, the irony. But you know, I decided that if that's where I was suppose to be, I'd be happy. And I was, even with all of my health issues, etc.
I heard a lot about McRitchie from my trainer (Crippen). She loved her. Unfortunately, I never got to serve with her.
Rhia: Oh. No, I guess not :) "Let's do the time warp again!" I guess I didn't miss the anniversary.
Alison: I served in one of Sis. Crippen's areas. She'd been gone for a year and everyone still talked about how good she was. And she seemed cool. Any sister who would climb a billboard to get a picture must be.
Post a Comment