I've been awake for three hours, and have spent all three of those hours trying to think of something to write for all of you.
Since last night I've been having a hard time, full of doubt, fear, and insecurity. This isn't the first time during the past month and a half since receiving my mission call that I have felt this way, and certainly not the first time within the past year and a half, as I prepared to graduate from college and put in my mission papers, that I have felt alone and without worth.
Sometimes I see girls receiving calls to the places I used to dream about being called to and am filled with pained jealousy. Sometimes I read through my patriarchal blessing, looking for solace and direction, and only feel frustrated, as if my blessing were just a blank page.
Sometimes I think about serving a mission and wonder, "why bother?"
That means that within the next week and a half, I will find a big white envelope in my mailbox that will contain my call. And after that I will have an MTC report date. I will have things to buy. I will have somewhere amazing to dream myself in every night. I will still have a semester to finish and a graduation to attend, but that hardly matters in comparison to this.
This, my friends, is real life.
Sometime yesterday, an apostle of the Lord looked at my papers (and my picture) and assigned me a place to labor.
Somewhere, a mission president is or already has been told of my presence. They know me and are expecting me.
Somewhere, a black name tag is being made with Sister Broadbent at the top in bold white letters. (Or maybe Hermana or Sœur or some other language).
Somewhere, my mission call is being typed and printed, and the other things that come in that big white envelope are being assembled so that they can be sent off to me.
Somewhere, there are people whose hearts are growing closer and closer to a place where me, Sister/Hermana/Sœur/Whatever Broadbent, will be able to teach them about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Here in Buena Vista, Virginia, my stomach is in knots and I'm always two minutes away from a breakdown of the best kind.
It's coming. I can feel it.
Here's to one step closer to being a sister missionary.
And for you sisters who have been struggling, and waiting, and crying, and doing all of the things that lead up to serving a mission, I just want to let you know that you can do it. I spent seven months of my twenty-first year of life doing the same thing. I know what that's like to be unsure about everything.
But let me tell you, eventually it will become a reality, and can I just say that I have never felt an excitement that's so stressful and nerve-wracking, yet incredible, as this?
Future sister missionaries, I've done my homework. For months I've been hunting down websites that are reliably modest because, let's be honest, the pickings can get pretty slim when you're a Mormon girl on a college (or high school) budget.
If you're not aware of the recently updated guidelines for sister missionary dress and grooming, you can find them on lds.org. (Or just click this link.)
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