The Call

My entire life changed on October 6, 2012 and I had no idea. During the October 2012 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, a life changing announcement was made for millions of LDS youth and their families. The age for full time missionaries was changed from 19 to 18 for young men and from 21 to 19 for young women. At the time of this announcement I was in my first semester at Brigham Young University.  I loved life as a young college student and had big dreams and desires to see the world! For me this change meant I could serve a mission in 6 months rather than 2 and a half years from the time I heard the shocking announcement.  However, in my young mind this still felt like forever away and I had been accepted to the BYU London Study Abroad program the night before so I honestly didn't give it a whole lot of thought in the moment.

As the days, weeks, and months went on it seemed like every girl (and boy) I knew were preparing for missions. I was so excited for them and started to think about the possibility in the very back of my mind. However, I was determined to stay focused on London. I told myself I would have plenty of time to think about the decision later after I had my London adventure—something I did not want to miss out on.

Someone a little more knowing than I had different plans, though, and let that little thought grow bigger and stronger until it was all I could think about. I thought and thought until I started to overthink. I worried that I was only thinking about a mission because "everyone else was doing it." I knew that serving a mission would be an incredible experience, but I also knew (or at least had heard) that it's not the right decision for every Latter-Day Saint girl. One thing I knew for certain was that I did not want to serve for the wrong reasons—only serving because that was the “status quo.” If I was going to go, I was going to know that was God’s plan for me.  So I prayed and prayed and prayed some more.

I was so confused.

Finally, I went to the Bishop and we had a nice long talk. Well, mostly he talked and I cried my eyes out. Luckily, he was inspired and told me exactly what I needed to hear. He read me scriptures, like D&C 6:22-24, which seriously sounded like they were written just for me and what I was feeling. Bishop was definitely inspired when he asked,

“Can you think of a specific experience where you felt, one way or the other, you did receive an answer?”

In that moment, the Spirit brought an experience to my mind that I had completely disregarded when it happened. The Sunday before, I had been singing in the choir during sacrament meeting when I heard a voice clear as day tell me I would serve a mission. I was so busy thinking of doubts and concerns I disregarded the prompting almost as soon as I received it. Now, in this spiritual setting, I could not deny the answer God was giving me.

I was going to serve a full time mission.

 I felt like a thousand lb. weight had been lifted off my shoulders and the Bishop told me it was a visible change. I finally received, and acknowledged, my answer and I could not deny it.

The next week was a whirlwind. Not only did my family celebrate Christmas, but I also prepared to leave for London and sped through my mission papers. Through divine intervention, I was able to complete all of my interviews and medical appointments the week of Christmas. That was nothing short of a miracle. I left for London less than a day after I submitted my paperwork to Bishop Harris. What an emotional roller coaster. I showed up to England emotionally drained and began to question my decision. The light that had illuminated my answer so clearly in the Bishop’s office seemed to be growing dimmer with my stress. Those first few weeks in London were brutal. The adversary was working on me hard, but through the power of the Atonement and relying wholly on my Heavenly Father, I was able to make it through. I recommitted myself to have daily spiritual experiences and the light of Christ once again filled my countenance. Although Satan valiantly tried, he could not take away or change the answer I received from God. I enjoyed the next two months exploring England as I anxiously awaited my call. I would later come to realize that the time I spent in London was preparing me for my mission in ways I couldn’t imagine.  Having to fight for my answer, and learning to rely solely on God to retain that answer, helped me to love my answer.

A week before my call arrived, my study abroad group left for an adventure in Paris. As excited as I was to fulfill my lifelong dream of going to Paris there was one catch—I knew my mission call would (probably) be arriving in London that week. Paris was definitely a good distraction from waiting for my call but let's be honest, I was more than ready to get back to London the Saturday our trip came to an end. The train ride from Paris to London was probably one of the longest experiences of my life. When we finally got to London I was calm and collected and leisurely made my way home a ball of nerves and literally ran like a crazy person through the train station, to the underground, through my tube connections and stops, to Palace Court (the street I lived on). It was actually probably quite the sight considering I was hauling all of my luggage from Paris. Everyone in my group was just as excited as I was but I had lost all of them by this point thanks to my mad dash. I realized what a wreck I was and slowed my run to a brisk walk down Palace Court so I could attempt to collect myself and say a very heartfelt prayer. The moment of truth. I walked through the door with my gaze glued to the mail mantle and there it was: a white envelope with my name on it and the Church's in the corner. I screamed, grabbed the nearest girl and hugged her so tight she probably couldn't breathe, and started bawling. I called my parents, hugged/cried with everyone as they got to the Centre, and the time was set to open my call 30 minutes later. After setting up a Google Hangout with my whole family, gathering everyone in the parlor, and going through every possible emotion, it was time.

“Dear Sister Rolfe: You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the Ohio Cincinnati Mission.”

Screaming. Crying. Trying to figure out what language I'm speaking (English, thank goodness). Hugging. Crying. Pictures.

This is all pretty much a blur. All I remember is feeling the spirit so strong and knowing this was the perfect mission for me.

When I calmed down enough to read my call packet, I discovered that Heavenly Father knew me even better than I realized. I would be serving in the small town, USA suburbs of Cincinnati (my dream mission, believe it or not), and the city my mom and I had traveled to the summer before and fallen in love with. I couldn’t help but be filled with a sense of love and closeness to my Father in Heaven as I realized He had been preparing my path all along. As I looked back over the experiences I had had since the age was lowered in the October general conference, I couldn’t deny God’s hand at every turn. I was able to receive my own answer very strongly and clearly, I was able to fulfill my dream of living in London, and through it all I was prepared to serve the Lord with all of my heart, might, mind, and strength. The fight for my answer made the call that much sweeter. I’m so grateful for a Father in Heaven who knows me perfectly and loves me enough to be involved in the details of my life.

xoxoxox

kay