Two Years of Opportunity and Memories

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     The decision to serve a mission was entirely my choice with little pressure from my parents because my older brother felt no prior obligation to go. I contemplated it deeply due to the overwhelming commitment expected. Sometimes I felt angry at the thought of being expected to go away for two years and work tirelessly on my feet. However, my dad sat me down and said, "I am not disappointed in your brother for not going, but I am deeply upset at the opportunity he has chosen to miss". I didn't understand what he meant at the time, but I committed at that moment with all my heart to go and serve.

My first few months away I could not understand what my dad meant by “opportunity” due to the incredibly difficult companions I had been assigned too. I fought to keep my head above water, because every day I was around these individuals I felt like I was better off drowning. As I progressed forward and saw the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months, I looked back at my experience. It was incredible, the memories that I had accumulated. The memories of the long hot days riding my bike repetitively up and down the road chasing down complete strangers. It was the memories of church members who kindly welcomed two fatigued elders to have dinner with them. Most of all it was the memories of the lives that had been touched by the spirit.

My dad spoke of “opportunity” and the memories that I built was only a portion of that opportunity from my mission. The other portion came from growth mentally, physically, and spiritually. A portion came from the enduring friendships that I made that will last forever and much, much, more. Regardless, there were really bad days that required a lot of strength to get through, but the really good days came together to build some of the most memorable days of my life.