The Time I Stopped Writing My Missionary

It was an exciting time. First year of college, and I looked forward to the months ahead of embracing life on my own, and being in touch with a certain missionary through written letters and emails. Each week I held my breath in anticipation, hardly being able to wait for Monday morning to come along with the email from him that would brighten my week. If a little white envelope also happened to make its way into my mailbox, the week was even better.

Several months of this went by, and then suddenly one day, everything changed.

On Monday, January 6th, he (my missionary) sent me an email which wasn't like any of the others. He told me he had been feeling that he needed to be more focused on his mission and his purpose as a missionary. He said he felt that part of that meant leaving his affairs back home alone. He said he didn't know exactly what to do, but wanted my input on what I thought would be best for us.

I did a double take. What is he saying? What does this mean? No. It can't be. My mind began jumping to conclusions and a feeling of panic began to creep in. It felt like 20 pounds of bricks had suddenly been placed on my chest and it was hard to breathe. Questions and doubts began to swirl around in my mind and I felt confused and afraid.

Unable to process what I had just read, I had no other choice but to stumble through the rest of my day. For the next several hours, I couldn't focus as my thoughts drifted back to that email again and again.

It didn't really hit until I got back to my apartment later that evening. Bursting with excitement, my roommate squealed, "Guess who got a letter?!" It was in that precise moment I burst into tears. It hit me--that little white envelope would possibly hold the last letter I would read from him in a long time.

I was at a loss for words as my roommate held me and I continued to cry. Once I got my bearings together, I told her everything. She had recently gone through a break-up, so she knew to an extent what these emotions felt like.

I was confused. I was in disbelief. I was upset. I was torn. I was heartbroken.

These emotions were the beginning of a very, very difficult week. I knew I would get another email from him the following Monday, and I felt a sense of urgency to respond. But I didn't know how. I didn't know how, but I couldn't just sit still. Discouraged and confused, I turned to my Father in Heaven--both in prayer and through His words in the scriptures. Some comfort was found there, but the walls around my heart fought tirelessly to block out any help that was extended.

The day following the initial email, I sat down and opened my scriptures. I read and poured my heart out in prayer, desperately searching for an answer. Not knowing if the answer would come, and fearing what the answer might be, I sought an answer nonetheless.

After some time, it came.

"You need to stop writing him."

I stopped. My heart sank. Then it came again.

"You need to stop writing him."

My heart felt as if it had been instantly shattered. The answer came with gentle force and the tears welling up in my troubled eyes began to spill over. This is my answer? Why? How? Why now?

I was torn into pieces. In the days following the reveal of this answer were some of the hardest of my life. I was truly heartbroken. I loved him and I loved the Lord, but in my hardest of hearts wondered if this was asking too much.

But the more I poured out my heart in prayer, the more I asked, the more I thought about it, the more I wrestled with my own wants and desires, the more I knew it was the right decision. We needed to stop writing so he could focus much more on his mission.

Knowing it was the Lord's will didn't necessarily make it easier. I knew it would be a test of my strength, my obedience, my diligence, my love for him and my love for the Lord. But I knew we had to do it.

Shortly thereafter, I had the feeling that it would be okay to reach out and contact him every once in a while--like I would with other friends as they serve their missions. This eased the burden ever so slightly, but with a heavy heart, I knew this would still be one of the hardest decisions I would have to make and follow through with. I had no choice but to go forward, doing my best to have faith in this course correction that I never would have seen coming.

After painfully writing, rewording, and rewriting the hardest email I have ever had to compose, I was reluctant and anxious to hear how he would react to what I felt we should do.

I breathed the biggest sigh of relief when his response came back--nothing but acceptance and he embraced the decision completely. He told me he knew in his heart that this would be a test, but that afterwards we would both come out greater because of it. He felt he knew we would be blessed through our obedience to these promptings. I was grateful for the confirmation he received that this was the best decision, but my heart was still very heavy.

The next several months would prove to be a test of my willpower, my strength, and my obedience. At times under a pressure that left me feeling I would crumble. Time after time I have been tempted to disregard all I have felt to fall back on my own selfish wants and desires...but the Lord has helped me to restrain and to see a little bit more of the bigger picture.

Seeing it as my only option, I did the best I could to willingly take this leap of faith, and although faith doesn't make things easy, faith makes things possible . . . so I went forward.

*     *    *

Now, here I am, seven months later. I have finished my first year of college, and received a call to serve as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the state of Pennsylvania. Looking back, I don't have regrets. There were (and still are) times I wish I could email him to tell him everything. But I knew that wasn't part of the plan.

Though it seems impossible, somehow, deep down in my soul that still aches over this at times, I have a feeling that I will be grateful for this in the long run. I hope that I will be grateful and that he will be grateful too, whatever happens down the road. Most importantly, I take comfort in the knowledge that he and I were obedient specifically to what the Lord asked us to do...no matter how hard it has been.

*     *     *

I have learned a lot from this trial, but I don't want to sugar-coat it. The fact of the matter is that I miss him. A lot. Despite the clearer perspective I have gained, there are often moments, hours, and days where the heartache I feel is nearly impossible to bear. I still ask God why and wonder if it will be worth it in the end. I wish so badly I could see the future and see how this all pans out, but I can't. And it's a hard reality for me to accept. God has made this burden easier to bear, but the pain still surfaces and it is very real. Some days are better than others, but deep down I wish for the way it was before because I didn't feel the pain then that I do now. I get caught in these ruts and it is hard to be pulled out of them. But the Lord sends clear messages and light into my life that lifts me up and help me to press forward. The reality of my Savior through this is undeniable, but it doesn't mean that I am immune to hard days.

Opening up and sharing this experience has been eye-opening for me. I realize I have come a long way from the girl who read that email and was heartbroken. I know that for me, this experience is one my Father in Heaven is using to shape and mold me into something greater. And that growing has consisted of a lot of uncomfortable and painful stretching. I don't see the progress, but I know somehow He does. And I take great comfort in knowing that He believes I am worth refining.

One of the biggest things I have (re-)learned from all of this is that the Lord often asks us to do really hard things. Hard, difficult, soul-wrenching trials that seem unreachable, unconquerable, and seemingly impossible to overcome. But I am proof that no matter how impossible it may seem, nothing is impossible with the Lord. He is there always. In moments of purest bliss to moments of shattered heartbreak. He is there. His path is greater, higher, and more beautiful than we ever could have imagined, but it's up to us to take that first leap of faith.

I don't know what the future holds. But I do know my Father's plan is greater than any plans I could ever make for myself. I have seen that time and time again in my life and would never be able to deny that I know it to be true. I know my life is in His hands and whatever happens in the end is exactly how it is meant to be. I don't know exactly how it will be worth it, but I am doing my best to have faith in this plan that has been brought before me. My natural instincts do not want to solely rely on this trust or this faith, but I am doing my best to submit my will to the Lord, having faith that His plan will help me become who I am destined to become.

Amidst the heartache, I can't deny the blessings I have seen poured out in my life as I have obeyed the voice of the Lord. I testify that as your will is swallowed up in His, He will help you to feel joy, peace, and comfort, in whatever trial you are facing. At times it may feel that the light will never come--but it does. His strength is extended and it is what you have to rely on, and as you do, you will come out better and stronger than you were before.

Maybe you have gone through something like this. Maybe you haven't. Maybe you will one day. Maybe you won't. Whatever the case may be, I hope you are able to learn or take away something from my experience.

If you find yourself in a situation like mine, or a completely different circumstance in which the Lord asks you to do something hard for Him, I hope you never let go of your love for Him and your willingness to obey His will, no matter how impossible it seems. Though it will possibly be the hardest thing you have ever done, heavenly help will be extended to you that will enable you to endure. And it will be worth it. God has a plan and He knows you and your heart.

Love, Bri | xoxo

For some humor, go check out The 7 Stages of Waiting for a Missionary!

. . . . whether you're waiting for a missionary or not . . . . each one is hilarious.
(Plus this picture will make a lot more sense if you do ;))