There is a great ferver of missionary excitement going on. We’ve got a nephew and a niece out in the field in England and the Dominican Republic, with another niece and a cousin leaving next month, going to Puerto Rico and Virginia. Elders and Sisters are getting their calls right and left, some of them to the strangest places. Our neighbor got his call last week to Australia, speaking Mandarin Chinese. What? Another boy in our ward is in Boston, Portuguese speaking (but he’s currently in a Spanish speaking area). One of Cole’s good friends is leaving this month for Texas, speaking Spanish. We had their family over for dinner last night. We spoke of missions and the MTC and missionaries. It was a great evening.
(We tried this recipe for ribs, by the way, and even though I didn’t splurge for baby back ribs, they turned out very yummy!)
However, when I go to bed, the dreams take over. For the past week or so, I’ve been dreaming about Cole’s mission call. His papers are in, you see, and his call is expected to come this week. I’m anxious. Yes, I am. This is my little boy we’re talking about, and I’m excited and thrilled and worried and nervous. Ok, let’s just admit it, I’m kind of wreck inside. I’m sure I’m not the first mother of a missionary to stress just a bit. When I ask Cole where he thinks he might go, or where he wants to (or doesn’t want to) go, he just says calmly that he will be going wherever the Lord wants him to be. So, I’m dreaming about it. I’ve dreamed that he was called to some island in the Philippines, but he was going to be a select District that would be speaking all four languages. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense. It’s a DREAM. Last night I dreamed that we were together and he opened his call to Phoenix, Arizona. No offense, Arizonians, but that’s kind of a downer mission call when you are from Utah and have been to Arizona to visit family and friends in Arizona multiple times. As he read down in his call, it said that after a time, he would be transferred to some super secret assignment. DREAMS, people–they don’t make sense. I remember when I got my mission call, I just didn’t want to go to California.
I love this video of kids opening their mission calls, but of course it makes me cry.
You don’t see any of them saying, What? I HATE that place! Even the girl who was called to Los Angeles was really excited. So, even if it’s not a really ‘cool’ place to go, it’s where the Lord wants him. But what if the Lord wants him to go somewhere scary and icky that will just make the missionary mother even more nervous?
Stop thinking, Paige.
Maybe I’m just stressed because my firstborn is preparing to leave us, and go who knows where in the world, and it’s scary.
Maybe I’m not quite ready to know where in the world that may be.
Maybe it’s the fact that we won’t really be home this week when the call is supposed to come. You see, we scheduled a trip to Disneyland, and we are leaving on Wednesday morning. Well, MOST of us are leaving Wed morning, while a few of them stay to go to school a few more days and then are flying down to meet us there. Kind of complicates the whole opening of the mission call.
Big deep breath.
So, I need to just calm down, enjoy this experience, and it will all work out. Right? Easier said than done.