each life that touches ours, missionary, mormon

“When it comes time, you pay attention to two things,”


he told me, and I leaned forward in my chair.

“How he talks about his mission, and how he listens to you talk about yours.”

And I just absolutely loved my mission.

each life that touches ours, missionary, mormon


One night over dinner I told someone I love that I never would have expected us to become such good friends.

“We are just so different,” I said.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused. It was June, the beginning of the summer. By this point we had spent an entire year doing everything together.

Our waiter came to the table, refilled our glasses. I paused.

I thought he would know exactly what I meant. That our principles didn’t always line up. That despite his interest in the gospel, and his love for God, there were still things I did that he would never want to do. That I did things he probably thought were odd, even if he did think them good. But in that moment I realized how profoundly wrong I was. I—the girl whose father is not a member, whose family is inactive, who has never believed that being Mormon is a prerequisite for being a great person—was brought to my knees, there at the Macaroni Grill.

“I just…I guess I’m not really close to any other athletes.”

He shot me a funny look and stole a bite of my food.

What I said was true, but it was wrong. Even as I said it, I knew it was wrong. That wasn’t it at all. I thought we were different. I had spent so long thinking of him as a person who would never be interested in the gospel, in the life it teaches us to lead. But as I looked at him—at him right there across from me—at who he was and all that he was trying to become, I realized that we were not different at all.


missionary, mormon

When your own words come back to haunt you

from December 2014:

This week I’ve realized how important it is to see beyond our circumstances.  That’s occurred to me mostly as I’ve pondered the Christmas story.  In Luke 2, where we read the story of the Savior’s birth, there are just two verses where we learn about Mary: “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19) and then later, when Christ is 12 and preaching at the temple, “…but his mother kept all these sayings in her heart” (Luke 2:51).  Those stood out to me because they just seemed so out of place. We read of all the things happening, and then they seem to pause for a moment and we learn that Mary was taking it all in.
I know the song goes, “Mary did you know…” but from the scriptures we know that she knew quite a bit. The angel Gabriel appeared to her and from that she knew Christ would be the Savior. She knew that she would conceive by the power of the Holy Ghost.  She knew that she was on a path pleasing to God, since He had chosen her to birth and raise His son.
But she didnknow He’d be born in a manger.
She didnt know she’d have to make a 70-mile trek to Bethlehem.
She didnt know that the inns would be so crowded that she’d end up essentially in a cavity of a rock, giving birth to her first child.
She didnt know any of that.
You have to wonder, what exactly was Mary thinking?
She was a great woman, to say the least, but maybe, just maybe, she thought things would have gone easier, or more simply.  Maybe she thought there would have been a place prepared for her, at least to give birth. Maybe that’s what she would have expected.  It’s what I would have,  if I had known that I was playing an integral role in God’s plan.  And how often are we like that? We’re doing what’s right, we’re sure that we’re on the right path, and things are just not as easy as we’d expected.  They’re tricky and sticky and it just seems like, if we were really doing what was right, life would be a lot more simple.
I think what we can learn from Mary, and from the story of Christ’s birth in a manger, is that God is at work even when it looks like He isn’t.
And that’s the fun part—having the faith to ride into Bethlehem anyway, trusting that something great is happening, something beyond what our mortal eyes can see.
missionary, mormon

My 18 months as a full-time missionary


were the happiest of my life.

They were definitely the hardest.  And easily the most exhausting. But somewhere in there comes the happiness that comes from doing hard things (and from doing them well!).

For most of my life, I did not plan on serving a mission.  But in 2012 everything changed and I knew that I wanted to serve my Heavenly Father by spending 18 months as a full-time proclaimer of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.

People serve missions for a lot of reasons.  And I don’t know if I care so much about why people go as I do why they stay.  But for me my intent in serving a mission was so simple: I knew my Heavenly Father wanted me to go, and I wanted to do whatever He wanted me to do.

Life as a missionary is quite different than normal life.  You leave your home.  No cell phone, no Facebook.  You don’t work, or go to school, or date, or watch TV, or wear jeans (…except for certain purposes, i.e. service).  You go nonstop from 6:30 am to 10:30 pm every day.  Sometimes people talk about the sacrifices of serving a mission, but for me I never felt that they were sacrifices.  For everything I gave, I received so much more.  So much more.

One thing I gained was a strong sense of loyalty to the restored Church of Jesus Christ on the earth today.  That occurred to me on a day in August when it was 98 degrees and humid in only a way that Virginia can be.  I was knocking on doors in a community of mobile homes and mostly getting yelled at.  My companion (missionaries always go two-by-two, or sometimes, three-by-three) had been on her mission for about a month.  It was really, really hot, and I had sweat dripping from everywhere.  And as we walked from home to home in the blazing sun, I realized that I was so happy to be there, and so glad to be sharing the message that God still speaks, and that the way to find happiness is HERE and it’s TRUE.

Another thing I gained was a love for obedience.  I’ve always been a rule-follower, but on my mission I really learned that nothing we’re asked to do is arbitrary.  Obedience to the commandments of God is the most important thing in my life.  I feel like I learned that through training wheels: the missionary schedule is detailed and very important.  I learned that if I could be on time for studies at 8 am, even when only me or my companion would know if I were late, then I could be obedient in much larger things.  The practice of submitting my will to God’s in small things prepared me to be obedient in larger matters.  (And it helps me to have faith that I’ll be blessed for doing so.)

I just learned more about love in 18 months that I ever would have expected—love for God, love for others, love for myself.  And I learned about it through these amazing people that I met, served, and served alongside.

I just couldn’t be more grateful for every day I got to wear that nametag.