“Are you thinking about serving a mission?”

A note from the editor:

All of us have different items inside our basket of life, some of which we choose and some of which we are given. Let's be mindful of experiences we've had and others have not. Let's not judge what is inside other baskets or flaunt the contents of our own. As M. Russell Ballard taught, "If we are truly disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, we will reach out with love and understanding to all of our neighbors at all times."

Regardless of their baskets. And regardless of our own baskets.

Or perhaps because of them.

This particular story focuses on the pressures of serving a mission and the choice not to. Let's practice the doctrine of inclusion and take time to understand the baskets of our neighbors, friends, and family. All of us have different paths of getting to a similar goal.


story 7 of many.

The dreaded question. The one that came when people were trying to be polite, trying to make small talk, trying to be curious, trying to be….missionaries?

“Are you thinking about serving a mission?”

I remember the “age change.” At the time I was 15 and hadn’t thought much about a mission or any post high school plans. Sometime after that though I made a vague plan to go to a community college, then go on a mission, then get finish my bachelors, and then to be a real adult.

Or something of the sort.

PSA: Life never goes as planned.

When I graduated from high school, I left home for a 4-year church school with no particular plan to go on a mission. That first year away from home was full of new experiences for me. Between challenging classes, new friendships, and cooking for myself, I always had plenty to do. Amidst all of this newness, I quickly realized that many of my classmates had served or were planning to serve missions. This was new to me. I grew up in an area with a fair number of Mormons, but now I was in an entirely LDS community. The absence of an experience is difficult to discuss, so few people talk about not serving missions (girls or boys). However just about anyone who has served a mission, or is preparing to, wants to talk about it. A lot.

Because of this, I found myself contemplating serving a mission more than I had before. Especially as I discovered that of the seven girls with whom I had become close friends, six of them were preparing to serve missions (and two years later the seventh girl decided to go as well). By the end of my freshman year, four of them already had their calls and were about to leave.

It was around this time that I decided to really pray about a mission. I had been thinking about it and had had some long conversations with my mom about it, but I wanted a clear answer from God. One Sunday night I determined that I would pray about serving a mission every day during the coming week. It wasn’t until Thursday during my institute class that I realized I had forgotten to ask about it in my prayers. In the course of our discussion, one guy mentioned that if we are meant to remember something, God will help us remember. And likewise, if we are meant to forget something, God will help us forget as well. I immediately thought about my intention to pray about a mission and recognized “a stupor of thought” regarding it.

In many ways receiving this “stupor of thought” was a great blessing. From that point on, I felt like I recognized a way that God had communicated with me.  At times when I doubted my decision not to serve a mission (which was often!), I could look back on that experience and feel peace.

I remember reconsidering my decision when two more of my friends were preparing to go on missions the fall of my sophomore year. After they received their calls, I felt that we had less and less to talk about. Over and over they discussed their missions, bought mission skirts and dresses, and wondered aloud if they would be riding bikes or have ipads and how often they’d visit the temple. But more than what they talked about I remember feeling excluded. I remember feeling like they were abandoning me and I was going to have to make all new friends.

And that’s pretty much what happened as time passed.

I had some very lonely months after they left (shameless plug from the editor feeling this way too).

I wondered more and more about why a mission wasn’t right for me as I saw my friends leave for this amazing, faith-building opportunity. I recognized what a great blessing missions can be: when someone serves a mission they learn to love, teach, and have faith! They are given 18-24 months to focus on their testimony and build it by serving others.

Comments about why I haven’t served are few and far between, but they still come and make me a little more isolated.. I was at the temple visitor center once and started a conversation with a senior missionary sister who was serving with her husband. We had started to talk about her previous mission to Germany and she eventually asked if I had served a mission. I told her that I was considering it and she told me that serving a mission was the best way to prepare for motherhood.

I’ve thought about that statement a lot in the two years since that conversation and...well, I have strong thoughts about this statement. I know that Heavenly Father has plans for me and wants me to be a mother. If he thought going on a mission was the best way or the right way for me to prepare for this divine role, he would have sent me a clear impression to go on a mission, but he hasn’t. Clearly there are other ways to prepare for motherhood. Going on a mission may be one way to prepare to be a parent, but God always gives us multiple paths to get to a similar goal.

Comments about not serving a mission or about the profound blessings that come from serving a mission may not come that often, but I still notice them. Just a few weeks ago, a friend from my stake asked me if I was planning to serve a mission. About a year ago, I went on a first date with a recently returned missionary and he asked if I had ever thought about serving a mission. And as much as I tell myself that these are just normal comments, I remember them and they make me feel different or guilty about my choice.

Even as I have come to accept that a mission isn’t part of God’s plan for me, not having served can still make me feel excluded, especially in a singles ward and at a church school. In my opinion, one of the great things about missions is that they give you common ground with every other returned missionary. They have taught the lessons, gone to the Missionary Training Center, been on the same sleep schedule, and had a crazy companion or a companion who became their best friend. I struggle to make small talk already and find it hard to get to know people, so I am sometimes jealous of RMs because they can relate so easily to each other while I still have to resort to talking about the weather and hope that the conversation will last more than thirty seconds.

Still, at the end of the day I fall back on the knowledge that God answered my prayer about going on a mission. The answer was no. And not just that, but that God said no because he had other plans for me.

There are many types of missions. College has been a kind of mission for me. I’m away from home and family (though I can do more than email them) and I’ve had experiences where I have been able to serve others and meet people whom I know were meant to come into my life when they did and others who I sincerely hope I managed to help in some way or another.

My experiences have helped me learn to rely on the knowledge that God has a plan for me and answers my prayers. Despite some feelings of exclusion, I try to be glad that I am where I am because I know that God put me here. And we’ll see what comes next.