The next few weeks were filled with shopping trips and temple trips as I did what I could to help my friend prepare for her mission. I did what I could to forget about serving a mission myself, but the thought kept resurfacing. It didn't make any sense. Missions are something that boys did, or girls like my friend who had the aspiration to be a missionary from the time they were small. What did I have to offer? As I did with all of my questions, I took it to God. I didn't trust my own judgment anymore and I needed to be sure. "Heavenly Father, I don't want to serve a mission," I confessed, "but I can't help but think that I should. Is this what you want me to do?" I pondered the question over and over again, but never felt that I was getting any concrete answers. I thought that I would get a definite "Yes! You need to serve a mission!" or an absolute "No, you are needed elsewhere." But the answers I received continued in the manner of "You could serve a mission, or not. Really, it's up to you." I was confused and frustrated. Why wasn't God giving me the direction I sought?
One day, my friend invited me to go to the temple with her. I knew that the temple was the House of God and that I felt the spirit strongest there. I figured that I would get a clearer answer if I was inside. Oh, was I right. Maybe it was the sanctified environment that I was in, or maybe God was getting tired of my constant pleas for guidance and direction, but my answer was clear as day. As we were sitting and waiting for our turns to do baptisms for the dead, I closed my eyes and again asked my Father in Heaven what He wanted me to do. My answer was obvious, but not loud or demanding. The voice I heard was not audible, but I distinctly heard the words of a wise, tender parent in my thoughts. "Look, Kaleigh, you have so many great options in front of you. You could go to school, or you could go on a mission. Either way is acceptable and I will be proud of you as long as you are doing what is right. But right now, you are doing neither. You need to make a choice." I was stunned. Me? Make the choice? Was He kidding? According to my choices in the past I was not in a position to be making a decision such as this. How could this be my answer? Wasn't God supposed to tell me what to do?
As the days past I started to weight the options that God had given me. School was my plan all along, but I clearly didn't have the money to afford tuition. Despite my pathetic efforts to save, I couldn't hold onto my money long enough to save up for much of anything. But a mission mean leaving behind friends, family, cute clothes, cute boys, movies, TV shows, electronics, books, etc. It would mean giving up practically everything that I knew for a year and a half of doors being slammed in my face and people yelling at me for sharing my beliefs. One option was clearly more appealing than the other and it was not the option to serve a mission. So I made the decision not to serve. I would continue to work and save and try to somehow get to school. But no matter how I tried to convince myself otherwise, I felt guilty for making that decision. I just couldn't put the idea aside.
April came and I found myself at another friend's mission farewell. As I listened to her talk about her desire to serve and love the people of Russia, something stirred within my heart. The more she talked, the more the feeling within my heart would swell, until I was to the point of tears. What was I feeling? Surely I didn't want to serve a mission, did I? Could it be that I was finally getting the direction that I was looking for? The thoughts continued turning as we sang the intermediate hymn. And then I knew. The words touched my heart in such a way that I can't describe and I couldn't stop the tears from coming. The lyrics were as follows: Go forth with faith to tell the world of Jesus Christ, the Lord. Bear witness he is God's own Son; proclaim his wondrous word.Go forth with hope and courage strong to spread the word abroad that people of all nations are children of our God.Go forth with love to tell the world the joy of families. That we may be with those we love thru all eternity. Go forth to serve and do your best with no thought of reward; then you shall know the boundless joy of serving Christ, the Lord. Go forth with pow'r to tell the world the gospel is restored, that all may gain eternal life thru Jesus Christ, the Lord. Go forth to preach his glorious truths of peace, of joy, and love, that all who heed his holy word may praise the Lord above. And that's when I realized; a mission wasn't about what I was going to give up. It wasn't about the time or the recognition or the places. It was about people. People who were children of God. People who had no idea what the truths of the gospel were - that they could see their loved ones again, that they could find peace and joy beyond comprehension through the atonement of Jesus Christ, truths that I had taken so for granted in my life. And in that moment I knew. Not only did I need to serve a mission, but I wanted to. I pulled out my phone and shot a text at my dad, who was a member of the bishopric at the time. "Dad, I need an appointment with the bishop. I think I want to go on a mission." The response came almost immediately. "Are you serious?" I think he was just as shocked as I was. But he set up the appointment for me. For once, I was following the counsel given to me by my Heavenly Father. And I was terrified.
Four weeks later I paced the walkway of my living room floor. It was here. My very own big, white envelope that held the course of my future in it's papery grasps. Dear ones gathered near and there was an array of digital devices with the faces of loved ones anxiously joining us over Skype. My hands shook as I slid my finger through the glue of the envelope. As I pulled it out, I immediately covered up the letter with another piece of paper and read line by line. "Dear Sister Martindale," I read, and then I glanced up from the piece of paper in front of me. Everyone watched from the edge of their seats as a grinned to myself. "We are pleased to inform you, you've been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" everyone laughed and I took the opportunity to quickly glance at the next line of the letter. My knees buckled. The room went silent as I read "You have been called to serve as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You have been assigned to labor in the Washington D.C., South Mission!" Everyone cheered and the tears stung my eyes again. I felt finally felt the peace in my heart that I had been craving for so long, and I knew that my Heavenly Father was smiling down upon me. For the first time in a long time, I knew that this was right. The next four months were again spent with shopping trips, temple trips, and anything I could do to prepare to head to the other side of the country for a year and a half. It was a time of great excitement and anticipation, but also a time of trial and temptation. There were so many reasons not to go and at times I seriously considered staying home. But with the help of loving parents, both earthly and Heavenly, I made it. September 18th I entered the Missionary Training Center. Thirteen months later and I'm happier than I've ever been. My mission has by far held the most sorrow and heartache that I have ever experienced. But never have I experienced a sweeter, more exquisite joy than the time that I've spent helping others to come unto Christ.
It's always so amusing to look back. I was so sure about what I wanted and I was so certain that it was the only thing that would bring my happiness. But God obviously knew me better than I knew myself. I'm so grateful that he continued to guide this stubborn child of his to exactly what I needed. Giving my will to God is something that I'm still learning how to do, but I know that when we submit to God's will instead of our own, that he can take us and shape us into the masterpiece that he has envisioned.
I know that a mission is not for every sister. But if you feel that god is telling you to go, don't question it. Just go. It will be hard, but God will take care of you. You will learn and do and become more than you ever imagined you could, and it will be glorious.
congratulations, Sister! thank you for sharing your story :)
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