Picking up where we last left off…
I was at a crossroads, again. I knew I needed to do something now that the direction of my life had changed. After years of wondering around (figuratively) I was feeling a pull to go in a different direction than I had imagined. It all started with my return to church. As I’ve mentioned before, attending church while growing up had been a big part of my life. I didn’t realize it at the time but I was learning and making decisions about what I believed in. When I moved out of the house and went my own way, I tried to walk away from everything including those beliefs. Now, years later, I returned to them. And once I did that, things seemed much clearer for me. In fact, I wanted to do something to give back and to share how I felt with others.
In the LDS faith, it is customary for young men to do two years of voluntary service or “missionary” work when they turn 19. Here I was at 22 feeling the same desire. It was very surreal and foreign to me, yet it felt right. So I spoke to the leaders in the church and asked what I needed to do. The process included moving home to pay off some bills and save money. It took about a year to do this but it was a great year.
It was not without its challenges, however. Most of my friends were not members of my faith and didn’t understand my choice. Everyone knew I was “Mormon” of course because I didn’t drink or smoke, but never having been overly vocal about my beliefs or even remotely “preachy,” it came as a surprise that I would devote such a large portion of my life to this. But after the initial shock had passed, people were surprisingly very supportive. Granted, they may have said I was crazy behind my back, but they still supported me and even encouraged me.
Their support was very helpful because planning to put your current life on hold is not an easy process. During the time I was to be gone (a year and a half total) I would not be working and would just be doing missionary work. There were lots of things to be taken care of from my car to my job. But through out that year, I never lost focus. It was an amazing time and I knew it was a rare opportunity for most people. To be able to walk away from the worries and concerns of the world and just concentrate on helping others was an exciting prospect.
Finally, it was time. I turned in the appropriate paperwork and received notice of where I would be going. When you decide to serve as a missionary for the church, you don’t choose where you go, you are sent based on need and, as I believe, inspiration. I was being sent to Temple Square in Salt Lake City, Utah.
I remember how surprised I was. I had never been to Salt Lake, Temple Square, or Utah for that matter. I knew where it was of course, being familiar with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and I was well aware that it was where they had their “home base” if you will.
(Images: wikipedia and wikimedia)
I soon learned that my work at Temple Square would be different from other missions in that I would not be proselytizing but would be giving tours of the Square and answering questions to people from around the world. That sounded pretty good to me. I wasn’t much for the idea of going door to door so it seemed like this would be right up my alley. A little talking to visitors, taking people on tours, maybe giving a little speech or two, not too bad, right?
I quickly learned that I had no idea just how hard it would be!
(to be continued…)
RELATED POSTS:
High School, Home of the Warriors
Making it Through Middle School
Related Posts:
9 comments