"...when I have grown a foot or two!"
Only, now, I'd really rather stay this size. When I was a little girl in primary, I sang this song as loud as I possibly could, fully believing that after I graduated high school, I was going to be a missionary called of God! Somewhere along the way, though, I got side-tracked. I think I got into the state of mind that missions were just for the guys.
Then, I got so caught up in what I wanted to do... I wanted to be a photographer, band director, history teacher, filmmaker. I still want to be a lot of things, but I find myself distracted from what I need to do.
I've been asking for a long time about where I'm needed, what He wants me to do, what He has planned for me. I've been asking for years, and several times I've felt like I finally found the answer, but then it turns out to be wrong. But it turns out, it's been staring me in the face this entire time.
I wasn't listening. Or, I was, but I wasn't accepting the answer. For two years, I've been playing around with the idea of serving a mission.
I came up with all sorts of reasons why I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to stand not writing in my stories for eighteen months, I'd be leaving right after Jon got home, I couldn't leave my family, picking school up again after a mission would be too hard, I don't have the patience or self-discipline, yadda yadda.
But I was missing the point. There was a reason I can't stop thinking about it. Every Sunday, every single time someone mentions missionary work, I get really excited, and I have a strong feeling that that's what I'm supposed to be doing.
I've got my answer, and to the best of my ability, I'm going to follow it. I know I've got a lot of hard work ahead of me. When is it ever easy? I also know a lot can happen in a year. Believe me, I've learned that lesson. But, whatever happens, my goal for the next year is to submit my mission papers.
I want to serve a mission.
I need to serve a mission.
"Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work;
For behold the field is white already to harvest; and lo, he that thrusteth in his sickle with his might, the same layeth up in store that he perisheth not, but bringeth salvation to his soul."
(Doctrine & Covenants 7:3-4)