I'm not dying, just leaving for a mission

Getting ready to leave on a mission feels a little bit like dying. You clean out your entire room, give things away. You get loads of attention (and gifts) from everyone around you. You reflect everything you've done in your life up to this point, and reminisce on the good memories. You do everything you can on your bucket list. You say long goodbyes to friends and family. And then I remember... I'm not dying, just living in a different place for a different purpose for 18 months. I tell all my friends, "It'll be a party when I come back!"

Was it a mistake to go to a Taylor Swift concert two weeks before I leave? No and yes. No, because it was TOTALLY WORTH IT. So awesome, so cool. GAH, it changed my life. Yes, because now i'm even more obsessed with her than I ever was and she's all I ever want to listen to. Sorry Taylor, can't bring any of your albums on the mish:( which is depressing. 

People often ask me, "What made you decide to go on a mission? Did you always know you would serve?" There were TWO times in my youth where I said to myself, "I'm going on a mission, there's no doubt about that." They were often in high spiritual moments that lasted only about 10 minutes. 

Number One: I was twelve, and sitting in Young Women's listening to a lady named Sister Fisher give a lesson about missions and her experience serving. She was bearing her testimony of how strong you will grow as a person and as a mother, and that hit me hard I guess (This was when my family was living in Hanford for 6 months).

Number Two: The missionary age change. I know that there are probably A LOT of girls who felt the exact same way as I did at this point. But I was there, in the conference center, literally tears streaming down my face (my family does not know this, I hid it well ;)). First of all, I'm not really a cryer when I feel the spirit, so I was super confused and caught off guard. I did not know at that point whether or not I would actually go the next year, but I felt so strongly in my heart that I knew that the age change would bless my life, and that I would do great things. I SWEAR I saw temporarily into the heavens at that point. There is no doubt in my mind that the prophet receives revelation from on high.

Between these two experiences, there were so many ups and downs of deciding whether or not to go. But eventually, I got to a point where I said to myself, "I know that my Heavenly Father loves me no matter what, and that it's not salvation for me to go. So why am I stressing over it?" I often did not understand when girls would tell me, Oh I prayed about it and got a "no." Why would God tell you not to do something that involves spreading the true word? Why wouldn't he want you to save lost souls out there? I understand that girls have a choice, and that you can be a missionary in so many other ways. But for me, as I was praying and trying so hard to get a "yes" or a "no," I received a prompting that the decision was completely up to me. 

In some ways, I did always know I would go on a mission. And the decision was long and hard, but I know that this will bless my life and most importantly the lives of who I'll be teaching the gospel.