Auf
Wiedersehen!!!!!
So
here's the deal. Serving a mission was never the plan. Growing up, the thought
of going wasn't even slightly appealing to me. The rejection? No thanks. The
walking? Haha...no. Being separated from family and friends for 18 months
straight? Once again, not interested. However, that mindset changed on October
6, 2012 when Thomas S. Monson, president of The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-Day Saints and renowned ear-wiggler (no really, his ear wiggling skills
are out of this world...look it up) announced that able and worthy young women
could be recommended for missionary service at the age of 19. Like a volleyball
to the face (maybe that has happened to me once or twice or like twelve hundred
times), it hit me. The Lord needed me, Brooke Terry, to serve a mission. The
fear of rejection, physical strain and emotional stress completely disappeared that very instant and I was left with nothing
but excitement as I resolved to join the ranks and be part of the Lord's
missionary force.
That
enthusiasm propelled me through the application process...which isn't saying
much. I submitted my papers and less than a week later, my call was assigned
and making its way to my apartment in Rexburg, Idaho. A few anxiety attacks,
lots of happy dances and one rousing game of human tetris later (squeezed 30+
people into my itty bitty living room. Booyaa), I had my Texas friends on the
phone, my family on skype and my call in hand, ready to see where the Lord was
sending me.
Rewind.
Five
years earlier. 14-year-old, middle school me was filling out a high school
course sheet. It was mandatory to take two years of a language, and, being from
south Texas, everyone encouraged me to learn a little bit of Spanish. However,
for some reason, I felt very strongly about taking German. Everyone discouraged
me from doing so, saying it'd be a waste of time and completely pointless, but
I proceeded anyway. And you know what? I loved it. I loved the language. I
loved the culture. I loved the people my teacher spoke about. I loved the
places she mentioned. I had never met a German in my life, had no connections
to the country and the only German I knew was "auf wiedersehen"
because that's what Hedi Klum said to the outgoing designers on Project Runway,
but I loved it all. Deeply.
fast forward.
With
shaking hands and a cracking voice (it was really, really cute sounding), I
read aloud "Dear Sister Terry, you are hereby called to serve as a
missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. You are assigned
to labor in the Germany Frankfurt mission...you
will prepare to preach the gospel in the German language." Everyone went
wild (my family could be heard screaming over skype for a solid minute and a
half), but I was calm. All I felt was peace as a few thoughts entered my mind:
1. My resolution to
take German in high school was wasn't some arbitrary, whimsical decision. It was prompted by the Holy Ghost.
2. My love for all things
German wasn't random. Those feelings were put into my heart by a Heavenly
Father who had great plans for me.
3. The Lord had been
preparing me for this call to serve His children in Germany for years. They
need me over there. He needs me over there.
The
end, right? I'm supposed to go, so everything has been fine and dandy and perfect,
right? wrong. Everything that could go wrong has, indeed, gone wrong. Passport
problems. Boy bothers. Feelings of
worry, anxiety, stress, sadness, inadequacy and fear hit me full force. Must
have made me feel unsure about the whole mission thing, right? Made me think
twice about going? wrong again. Quite the opposite, actually.
I'm fired
up.
I'm ready to go.
I'm ready to give my all to the people of Germany.
I'm ready to give everything I've got to the Lord.
I'm ready to give everything I've got to the Lord.
auf wiedersehen, ya'll.
See you in 18.
-Schwester Terry
No comments:
Post a Comment