The day I was set apart as a full time missionary was up until that time one of the highlights of my life. During a sacred blessing the stake presidency and my dad set me apart and made prophetic promises that sent my soul soaring with faith in what would be. I was promised that my family  would be protected. I was told that I had been saved and prepared for this very opportunity. After the blessing the stake president said that he felt inspired to read me a scripture, that is was from the Lord to me.

“Behold, this is the promise of the Lord unto you, O ye my servants.  Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come”(D&C 68)

  In my journal I recorded “I know this is the right decision! “. I wrote of the peace that had settled upon me and how the spirit had confirmed my decision to serve was part of Gods plan for me. I was probably among the top 5 most ecstatic and anxious to leave missionaries, ever.

            “I hate it here.” That is what the first line in my journal reads just two days later. While waiting to be interviewed by the M.T.C. branch president in the hall outside his office one of his counselors told me I was not allowed to wear the shoes I had on. I was wearing black lace up boots that went up half of my calf. My mom and I had picked them out because we were told I would need something sturdy for the frozen plains of Nebraska in November. Coming from southern California I mostly wore flip flops or no shoes at all. There was a strict size restraint on the luggage we could bring, so they were the only shoes I had. Because I was already feeling that I didn’t belong, his rebuke sent me to tears. I can say in all honesty I was not trying to be rebellious to any mission rules.   I entered the president’s office and sat down. He looked at me sternly and began to question my worthiness. I stared to sob. He said I was ungrateful and lacked faith. That he and the prophet himself were praying for the missionaries. Then he said something I’ll never r forget. “You know there are thousands of other missionaries and this work will go on without you.” And that was that. I left his office to enter a room full of my peers feeling as though I had been punched in the gut, I could hardly breathe. I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. In that moment, I wanted to go home. I don’t think I had ever experienced that deep of hurt before. In my broken heart I prayed. I decided then and there that yes, the work surely would go on without me. But , I wanted to be a part of it! I would not leave .I would never forsake the one who I came there for, the one whose name I wore under my own on a  black and white name tag. There was no turning back, no matter what, I was committed . You see, had I not become completely committed  in the face of being misjudged I would not have been prepared for the numerous times that would happen again. Had I been prideful or allowed myself to be offended I would have missed out on experiences that shaped me into who I am. I love these words from a favorite hymn. They have special meaning to me.:

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose

I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;

That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,

I’ll never, no never; I’ll never, no never,

I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!

Those first 2 days had been a trial of my faith, there would be many more in the next 18 months. But this particular experience proved to be a rich testing ground of my complete commitment to serving the Lord. The next day was a whole lot better, and each day after. I felt the spirit stronger than ever. I was able to answer other missionaries’ prayers and help them when they wanted to leave or didn’t feel worthy. I saw and felt the power of 14 elders fasting for two days with me to heal my sister after she had been in a terrible accident. Elder Nelson, An apostle of the Lord, came up to me in a group of hundreds and said with a smile “Sister Wilson, thank you for being here”. Over and over I would write “I feel the saviors presence, I fell Him near me”. The last day I wrote these words…”it’s funny how a place I found restrictive at first has become a place of safety and peace. I am really going to miss it here. I will miss the friends I’ve made that have become like family.”

On a dusty road to Capernaum long ago Jesus turned to his disciples and asked

“Will ye also go away?”

Peter answered:

“Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life.

“… We believe and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God.”

I thank Heavenly father almost daily for the opportunity He gave me to serve a full time mission. The rewards for such service are innumerable and impossible to describe. Because of the many long dusty and sometimes cold roads I walked in Iowa and Nebraska I have  come to know as the apostles of old, that there is nowhere else to go but toward Him. The stake president was right. Those words were for me. My Savior never left my side and because of that assurance, I served cheerfully and bore testimony of Him without fear.