Missionary Experience.

Let me tell you a little story.  A few weeks ago I was in the temple and asking for guidance on what to do about my writing.  I had an answer come - write the mission story of the girl who thanked Heavenly Father for her shoes every time she prayed.  But to do it, I would need to get my mission journal out so I could make sure the information was correct.  And hey, how about a name for the girl?!  So I dug my mission journal out.  I thumbed through quickly and realized I couldn't even remember what area I was in.  So I began at the beginning.  Here is a glance at the thickness of the journal.   

That blue thing sticking out is a hospital wrist band.  I was in the emergency room before the terrible illness with no name took over.  Now I need to clarify some things.  It was 20 years ago that I left for my mission.  I have been back for quite a while now.  This is the very first time I have opened my journal to read it.  I have not read it because I have some memories that literally make my toe nails curl.  I'd get a stomach ache every time I would think of my mission. I didn't want to talk about it.  Or even think about it.

I began to read with the goal of finding this girl and all the correct information so I could write it and send it in to the Friend magazine.  What happened was very surprising.  I read.  And read.  And read.  And read.  And I remembered all the wonderful experiences I had.  I remembered all the incredible people I met and taught and laughed with and cried with.  I remembered all the wonderful missionaries, companions and elders, who I served with.  I remembered what an incredible experience it was to serve a mission.  I grabbed my mission photo album and put all the faces with the names and remembered the houses, the food, the kids, the smells, the spirit, the greatness of it all. 

I have had more than a week to digest all that I read and remembered.  And guess what?!  I don't get a stomach ache.  My toe nails have yet to curl.  I smile when I think back on those 18 months of my life.  I love my mission. 

It only took 20 years.  20 years and wanting to clarify details of an experience so I could write about it.  20 years and an experience I never even actually wrote down.  20 years and the cleansing of my memories of a life altering experience.  I received an amazing answer in the temple that day.  The power of a journal and the way it can clarify events from 20 years ago.  And leave me with a sense of Joy where there was once fear and muck.  Go ahead... ask me anything about my mission!!