I'll Go Where You Want Me To Go

so the countdown is less than two months. I report in lESS THAN TWO MONTHS. What is even happening here?! Didn't I open my call yesterday?

I've had a lot of thoughts, and I've observed a lot of stuff from girls who are going soon or have just gotten their calls, and I figured I should articulate some of this stuff because it might help someone. Who knows.

I want to address the girls who had a similar experience to me. I got my mission call to Nicaragua and I was shocked. And not necessarily in a good way. I was a little overwhelmed and surprised. I felt like this was my call, and like it was meant to be, but I just had the hardest time picturing myself in Central America. And speaking Spanish. I still do. There are times when I doubt myself. When I think 'there has to have been a mistake. I am not an Hermana' or 'I'm not even capable of doing this' or some sort of variation of that. For me, what trips me up the most is that I just cannot picture myself in Central America. Before I got my call, I always pictured sisters in places where I had known someone who served there- like Belgium (my aunt staci), Japan (my aunt Steph), Canada (my dad), or a stateside mission like Arizona Gilbert mission, where I am from. Spanish was never really an option. Neither was third world. Or in a rainforest. I just hadn't really seen a lot of that amongst my friends and family. I always pictured if I did get called to speak another language, id speak French or Japanese like my aunts. I had this weird narrow view of what being a sister missionary meant and what a sister missionary looks like and does.

Now, of course, my view has been totally changed. But I suppose the point of a mission is to change people and change yourself, right?

So, I prayed about it. I wanted to feel like this call was MY call that is perfect for me. I wanted to be able to see myself pulling this off.
Spoiler alert- I never got the feeling. Still haven't. But, one thing did change- I have started to see that I am actually really grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who wants what's best for me, and knows me better that I know myself.... So well, in fact, that he is sending me to a place I'd never choose for myself. Because, if I got to choose where I served then I would end up missing out on all these awesome things that Heavenly Father has in store for me in Nicaragua that I can't even picture for myself.
So, I guess what I'm getting at is that when you put those mission papers in, you're going to picture your dream missions. Places you can see yourself. Places you've always wanted to go. But, id encourage you to be brave and be open minded to whatever happens. Dreaming of a foreign mission and a new language and you get sent stateside? Guess what- there are people there who need you and our love and your service. A mission isn't an exchange trip or a vacation. And plus, think of all the girls you will influence to go on missions and think of how many countries they'll go to! That's a huge web you've created, all through your righteous example. I know I wouldn't be where I am without the awesome sisters in Arizona. Or if you say 'I don't want to go somewhere cold' and you get sent to South America, don't get stressed. It'll all be okay! Guess what? Heavenly Father knows you so well and has awesome things in store for you. Even if those things include melting in the summer. It's all part of the adventure.

---

D&C 78:17-18:
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye are little children, and ye have not as yet understood how great blessings the Father hath in his own hands and prepared for you;
And ye cannot bear all things now; nevertheless, be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. The kingdom is yours and the blessings thereof are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours."

Hymn 270:
"But if, by a still, small voice he calls, to paths that I do not know
I'll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine;
I'll go where you want me to go."

how I became Hermana Haws

So yeah. I'm going on a mission.

Yeah, I kept it on the DL.

Yeah, I've actually been going to mission prep for a year.

Yeah, I didn't tell people till very recently, just within the past few months.

And I wouldn't go back and do it any differently.

So basically, here's the story of how I ended up with a mission call in my hands:

I have never wanted to go on a mission. I didn't grow up dreaming of getting that white envelope in the mail and wearing a little black name tag. I couldn't picture myself being a missionary- I had this serious sense of apathy towards missionary work for such a long time. 

Then they changed the age for sister missionaries. But I still felt really apathetic. I remember the age change was announced the October of my senior year. I was doing my senior scrapbook, and I remember hearing Uchtdorf talk about sending 18 year old Elders into the field, and I thought to myself- wow, wouldn't that be funny if they changed the mission ages. And then, just like that, the new mission ages were announced. My phone basically blew up with texts and calls from my friends, eager to serve missions. That's nice, I told them. I was happy for them. But I felt no desire to serve. The announcement was not a sign from the heavens. No angelic choirs sang. I never would have guessed that I would end up being one of these 19 year old missionaries. But, just wait, I'm getting there.

So then I graduate. I start work to pay for my schooling at BYUI as a music major. Life was great. I was excited for my little future I had planned out, going to school for four years and becoming a teacher. It all lined up nicely, and I felt comfortable. But, one summer day, probably around July, I woke up and realized something was missing. There was a void. I started to think of what could possibly be the problem- maybe I needed to take a semester off after my first year and go work somewhere. Maybe I needed to do an exchange trip. Maybe I need to go on a mission. 

Yeah, no, I thought to myself. I'm a music major. I can't take 18 months off. That's stupid. And plus, I don't even want to go. That's ridiculous. 

I was really stubborn. I decided that I needed to pray and ask what I needed to do. I said my evening prayer and went to bed, still with no answer. When I woke up the next morning, I got the clearest answer to a prayer I had ever received in my entire life. This wasn't just an inkling, or a vibe or a little feeling I got. No, I felt like someone was telling me, in plain English, 'Lauren, go on a mission.'

I was a little shaken up. I had never gotten an answer that was that clear and distinct. I knew this was serious business- I needed to go research this out and look into it and really decide if this was it. However, I decided almost immediately that I would tell no one. At least for a little while. Because I was still convinced that this was some hilarious misunderstanding, that message wasn't for me. He had contacted the wrong girl. I was no sister missionary. Or so I thought.

So, I got ready for work at my receptionist job. Two of my fellow receptionist friends had both recently left on missions. Tenants at the office were always asking how they were doing. Today it seemed like everyone was wondering. I ignored this. On my break, I ended up looking at my Pinterest- it was entirely sister missionary pins. I ignored that. The next Sunday, I decided to visit my friend's ward in our stake. Guess who was speaking in sacrament? Yes. The sister missionaries. The talks were about missionary work. The songs were missionary themed. The sisters bore some amazing testimonies- I wish I could track them down today and thank them for their influence on me. I found that as days passed, I was becoming more and more surrounded by missionaries. They were everywhere. And I found myself growing to love missionary work. 

But I still was hesitant. One of the things that deterred me from looking into a mission in the first place was the hoard of girls who, immediately after the age change, began flooding Facebook and every other social media site with sister missionary stuff. I didn't like that missionary work was becoming faddish- something that the cool kids did. That rubbed me wrong. Even though, in the past, I had never wanted to serve a mission, I still knew missionary work was extremely important, and very sacred and should be treated with respect. I felt strongly that a lot of girls had no respect for the work. And I feel like that contributed to my hesitating. So, I decided that from that point forward, I would keep my mission as quiet as possible. Between just me and Heavenly Father. And then just between people who are around me a lot and my close family and friends. 

So, I started going to mission prep here and there. I signed up for the class at BYUI. I registered for classes. And then I waited for the right time to submit papers and make it official. I was as prayerful as possible. And I just felt really strongly that I needed to be at school for two semesters. So I did that. I attended school, dated, had fun, did cool things. I met with my bishop about papers a few weeks into the semester. I explained my process of getting there. And we both cried. The spirit was so strong. However, he told me he felt really strongly that I needed to wait on submitting papers. And then, before I left, he prayed for me to be guided in what I should do. That was a huge deal to me. I will never forget that moment with my bishop. 

The semester went on and one day towards the end of the semester I woke up and knew it was time. By now, I had told my family and friends, but I was still keeping it to myself for the most part. So, I readjusted plans and went to the bishop and told him now was the time. He opened my papers that Sunday afternoon. I had completed them and had my stake president interview scheduled by the next Sunday. Which is kind of a funny story.

So for mission papers you have four basic parts- 1: personal info. Name, hometown, places you've lived. The basics. 2: medical records, the missionary physical, and dental check up. 3: picture, drivers license, and passport info. 4: education history and language stuff, plus a part where you can tell the brethren assigning your call anything that would be helpful. 

(After completing my own papers in a week, I have no idea how people 'work on' papers for months. It's quick.) anyway, so I completed section one in two hours. It was just fill in the blank.

On Monday, I called the health clinic at school and asked to make a missionary appointment. 'Can you come in fifteen minutes?' 'What?' 'Can you come in fifteen minutes... We had a cancellation and we can fit you in right now.' And, of course, I just happened to have a free hour. So I went to the clinic, got my blood drawn and my TB test done, and got my follow up appointment for Wednesday. 

On Tuesday, I finished uploading a picture , my passport, and my license. 

On Wednesday, I had my follow up appointment for the results to my bloodwork, and also my physical, which completed my medical portion.

On Thursday, I called a local dentist and asked when they could get me in. They told me they had an opening for two weeks from now. I was so sad that I had to wait, but I knew it would all work out. I booked my appointment, and about twenty minutes later I got called back by the dentist. 'We can get you in today, we had a cancellation.' I had my dental stuff complete by that afternoon.

Friday I scheduled my bishops interview.

It happened on Sunday. 

My stake president interview was on Wednesday after my finals. 

And, just like that, they were in.

Sometimes I feel like when things are meant to be they just fall into place. And that's definitely what happened to me. I've never had something just work out so effortlessly. I've never felt so peaceful. It was an incredible week and a half.

So then I waited. My stake president told me it would take ten days. I went home for the break, spent time with my family. Tried to get my mind off of things. My mom scheduled my temple date- June 13th in the new Gilbert temple. I found out I would get to see a temple wedding the next day. I had to say goodbye to my best friend, who leaves for her mission to Mexico on May 14th. I won't see her for close to two years, with the way our missions overlap. It was a wonderful week. And I was ready to go back to Idaho and get my call.

I happened to be in Utah, driving through Salt Lake City the day it was assigned. I remember driving past the church office building, and wondering if my papers were in there right now. They were. The next day, I tried to log into my missionary email account and it let me log in. I squealed. Pure joy. So excited. 

It didn't come Monday or Tuesday. But, Wednesday, after my music theory class, my roommate texted me and told me it was here. I literally ran home, grabbed the envelope and tried to formulate a plan. I just thought I would open it at a party with all my friends in attendance and my family on the phone. But, I felt this overwhelming feeling that I needed to open it by myself, with only a few people listening in. I walked back to the Snow building, where I spend all day in my music classes. I tracked down my friend Tyler, borrowed her iPad to record, and got my parents, sister, and two of my friends in FaceTime, and went into a practice room alone to open it. I was so nervous, my hands shook.

Dear Sister Haws, 

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 Nicaragua, Managua South Mission. 

I was literally speechless. I had a hard time getting my mouth to read it. I was convinced I was a stateside missionary. Complete shock. Coincidentally, as finally got myself to read it out loud, the wifi cut out and nobody on the line heard me. So, for a few seconds till I got it working again, I was the only one who knew. And it was such a special moment. I felt so close to Heavenly Father. I was scared, but strangely comforted. The wifi came back and I read it again. My mom looked a little freaked out.

You should report to the Mexico Missionary Training Center on September 3, 2014. You will prepare to preach the gospel in the Spanish language. 

More shock. I never even considered that I might be at an MTC other than Provo. My hands were really shaking now. I didn't cry. I was filled with so much excitement. We believe mission calls are inspired. Recently I learned that we even believe they are foreordained. So, I was called to serve in Nicaragua long before I held the call in my hands. It's crazy how much it just feels like yours. It almost feels familiar. Like, duh, I'm going to nicaragua. How did I not know that before? It's crazy how right it feels to see my name on the same page as 'Nicaragua Managua', 'Mexico MTC', and 'Spanish language'. Such an amazing experience. And so special, to just be between me and my close loved ones. If I could go back I would do it the exact same. No party, no crowd of people. It was exactly what I needed it to be. And I'm grateful for that. 

So anyway, there you have it. I'm an Hermana. I'm a little overwhelmed. A little scared. But, one thing that really effected me was a letter I received from my friend Nicole who is currently serving in Puebla, Mexico. She wrote out her testimony to me in broken, new missionary Spanish. And a few parts really stood out to me: when she talked about the love of 'Mi Padre Celestial' and following 'el ejemplo de Jesucristo'. I read enough Spanish, being an Arizona native and all, to get the main idea of what she was writing about. But that really stuck with me. Lo and behold, two weeks later, I got called to a Spanish speaking mission. Padre Celestial really knows us, you guys. He loves us. The church is true. Life is awesome. And that's the story. 

Pre opening.

Yep. Those are the lovely cinder block walls of the practice rooms. Holla!

My new best friends. 

I still reread it everyday. So crazy.

Woop there it issss. Because I get asked on a daily basis if Nicaragua is in Africa. Ps- my BFF is going to be serving in Merida Mexico- you can see it on this map!