Tuesday, February 23, 2010

More Mini Memoir

I announced to my parents that I'd picked up mission papers from my BYU bishop when we were at the hospital. My Mom sat in a chair, next to my Dad who was in a hospital gown and hooked up to IVs in his hospital bed. He'd just been diagnosed with cancer.

My parents were less than thrilled.

I wanted to go on a mission, but I began to think that it wasn't the best timing. I did not want to lose my father. I especially did not want to lose him while I was away. . . . on a mission. So I did what any good Mormon girl would do. I prayed.

I remember telling the Lord that I wanted to serve a mission, but not if my Dad was going to die while I was gone. In a rare stroke of confidence, I felt perfectly fine about leaving. My father, I believed, was going to be around for a long, long time. I felt it. I felt it strongly enough to go ahead with my plans for a mission. I don't think that ever before, or since, I've had such strong confidence in a decision that was based on nothing but prayer and maybe, faith. I can't imagine doing such a thing now.

My mother said it was harder to send a daughter than it was a son, but she hadn't sent a son. Not yet.

2 comments:

Lynne's Somewhat Invented Life said...

You do things like this all the time. When you knew you had to move and houses weren't selling or even renting--that house next door to you--well, almost next door--that had been on the market forever--but you had confidence that yours would sell or rent and it did. That is faith.

A great story and he's still around. Maybe your family was blessed with his good health because you were willing to serve.

farmgirl said...

I'm liking your memoir, so many things I don't know about you. Maybe we can make up for all that lost time....