This blog is a journal of our assignment in Chicago, IL as missionaries for The Church Of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We will be missionaries for twelve months starting in January 2014. It is a public blog so that our family and friends can share our experience with ease. The writings here are not intended to be a political, religious or social commentary. They are the memories, thoughts and "light bulb' moments we have as we serve. We welcome you the reader.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Letter # 16 Just Over My Heart
Soon after starting the process of putting our papers in for our mission, I began to look forward to getting my name tag. As the process progressed and the time to actually set aside our everyday life and devote ourselves to fulltime service drew nearer, I became more and more anxious to be able to put on, as some call it, the badge. I don't know if I felt like it would be more real when I had the tag or if my comfort level with the known circumstance is better than the way I feel about the unknown. Having my tag would make things more defined, perhaps. I just knew that for some reason, I was really excited to get hold of that name tag. We met with President Cannon and he set us apart as fulltime missionaries. It had actually happened and yet I didn't have the evidence on my lapel. It would not be until we walked into the Missionary Training Center and received a registration packet that the coveted tag would appear. There it was in the envelope! I lost no time in attaching it to my sweater. It wasn't like when I advanced from Brownies to Girl Scouts and my new leader pinned on my new Girl Scout pin with great ceremony. It wasn't like when I crossed the stage at graduation and was handed my diploma. It was more like when I was first handed the new baby I had just delivered. To wear the Savior's name just over my heart is momentous to me. It reminds me that I have been set apart from the world to give all of my time in the Lord's service. I find that I am extra careful to do nothing that would embarrass or degrade him. I work hard to represent him and all the love and joy encompassed in his gospel in a pleasing manner. It makes me better. I feel some remorse in needing the tag to give me that mind set. I had that obligation long before I had the tag. Never the less, I love my tag and the way I feel when I put it on. When Ian was about 16, he had a tag that had belonged to Bret when he served as a missionary. Ian would take out the tag and come into the kitchen and view his reflection in the microwave. He would put the tag on his pocket and tell about how anxious he was to be a missionary--how he couldn't wait to wear the tag. He was also the one to tell me that as much as it meant to put on the tag, the real impact would come when I had to take it off. I feel it already. I don't want to take it off.
Posted by Leslie at 2:48 PM