Called To Serve

In honor of the most recent changes to the age requirements for the youth to start their missions I thought it appropriate to finally blog about my mission. My senior year of high school one of my friends took the missionary discussions at our house. She had already been coming to church for years and was taking the discussions as the last formality to get baptized when she turned 18. I had always grown up in a missionary minded home and often said, "Someday I'd love to go on a mission..." but after those discussions I felt strongly that I absolutely positively was going to go on a mission.

 

Fast forward 1 year. My parents came to visit at SUU and took me out to dinner. I was telling them some of my plans to do a semester at Nauvoo the following year when my Dad stopped me and asked me how I felt about missionary work. I told them that I loved it and was still planning on going but that was still a few years away. And then my life was changed forever. My Dad shared with me that he had been called as a mission president and that I had received special permission to leave on a mission at 19 if my Dad and I felt like I was spiritually ready. No words can describe the excitement of that night and the 5 months that followed as I prepared for my mission to Buenos Aires, Argentina. 2 weeks after my 19th birthday I entered the MTC.

This is one of my all time favorite pictures. I had been in the MTC for 6 weeks when my parents came through for the mission presidents' seminar. Here we are standing right outside my classroom.

Here are the hermanas from my MTC district. Some of my best friends were made in the MTC. Here I learned how to get used to a companion, that I didn't know nearly as much as I thought I did and that the Lord was constantly aware of me. It was a long 9 weeks but I loved it.

I got to the field and received my trainer a native Argentine. The first day in the grocery store I spent an entire 7 minutes trying to explain a blow dryer in a round about way since I couldn't remember the word. I just kept saying "Wet hair then dry hair. What is it?" It was quite a scene but completely demonstrated to me what I was in for the following few months.
 It was the fourth day on the dirty streets in a city called San Fernando after several appointments had fallen through when my trainer sat down and told me she was done trying to figure out what to do next. At least that's what I understood of it. So I sat down next to her while I tried to think of something to say. Just then a bus drove by... I remember this moment so clearly I thought, "I wonder if I throw my arm or leg under that bus if I can get just hurt enough to go home legitimately." In the Ashton home a well known phrase of "Keep on Walking" (as in keep on walking past our house) was used anytime anyone thought about bailing on a mission early because they couldn't hack it. The moment passed I said something barely understandable, pulled my companion to her feet and we went to work.

I spent the first half of my mission with only Argentine companions. My Spanish improved rapidly and I was so grateful for the advice my sister gave me before I left. She told me to enjoy the time I spent with a companion from a different country and think of it as a mini study abroad to be completely immersed in the culture. That advice served me so well as I would go weeks at a time without speaking any English.

I am posting this next picture with serious reservations. When I worked at the MTC and showed the Elders pictures from my mission they always joked that I should have used those pictures as a before and after weight loss commercial. I gained 45lbs in the first 7 months. Impressive, right?

This picture is of Hermana Galvan and I. She was my last Argentine companion and to this day I count as one of my very best friends. We were together three transfers and we ate ourselves silly as you can clearly see. We worked non stop and had so much fun together. Someday when we save enough money to go to Argentina one of my first orders of business is to reunite with her. If anyone knows anyone currently serving in the Bahia Blanca mission please tell me!

 

So I know you're dying to know how I put on so much weight so fast right? I flipped open my mission album to my birthday right after Hermana Galvan was transferred to a new area and this is what I found.

Yep, 3 cakes in one day. And I'll admit I ate more than one slice of every single cake. I was definitely well fed by the members (okay and by my own hands). To this day I have never broken my highest mission weight even 9 months pregnant. Thank goodness. I do have a theory on missionary weight. The Lord blesses you to lose it quickly after all your service... I tell every sister missionary heading out that turning up your nose at a second plate offered to you by a loving member because you're worried about an extra pound (or 45) is not apart of The Plan.

 

12 months into mission I heard news that we were picking up the southern most tip of Argentina (and the world). Because the direct flights only came from Buenos Aires it was more economical to attach that area with our mission. I was blessed to be part of the first companionship of hermanas that flew south. Picture the rocky mountains with the base at the ocean. It was beautiful and freezing.



 

It was there I realized I spoke less fluently while having American companions. I saw a new chapel be built in our area. I saw one of my favorite families get baptize and learned a lot about the Lord's hand in the work and agency of those we were teaching.

When I tell my children and grandchildren I had to walk 10 miles up a snowy mountain everyday they'll have to believe me because I have pictures to prove it.

These are my mission shoes my last transfer. This is so cheesy but this picture means everything to me. Those Doc Martens on the left are the shoes I wore almost every single day. They barely held up enough for me to fly home. A true marker of what I had given 18 months of my life doing.

I'm pretty sure this was taken my last day in the field. If you look at my skirt you can tell how hard the wind was blowing.

Here I am at the airport saying goodbye to my mission president and his wife. You'll notice my face was almost back to it's normal size (see, it's okay to eat the extra serving!) In my exit interview all I had wanted was to feel the Spirit confirm that I had done a good job. I knew I had had bad days and could have probably done so much more so I worried if it was enough when I had finished. I prayed so hard before going in that I somehow would get that confirmation. When my mission president looked at me and said something along the line of the Lord had accepted my sacrifice and was pleased with my mission I felt it in my whole body that every single minute had been absolutely worth it.

Missions are hard. Appointments bail. Golden investigators ignore you. Your feet ache. Baptisms fall through. But for every hard moment there were at least twenty happier ones. I saw people's lives change as they learned about their Savior and got baptized. I saw families draw closer together. I could feel the Lord's hand in every aspect of the work. I became a better person.

I get a little Elder Hollandish when I talk about my mission. If you haven't read his talk about missionary work and the Atonement click here. It means everything to me. David and I love to talk about them and share what we've learned. They prepared us for every aspect in our lives. College, marriage, being parents and serving in the church. Only good things come from missions. Needless to say I am thrilled that 19 year old girls can go out. I knew when the Saturday morning session ended and one of my 12 year old beehives texted me and told me she "was so excited about the change" that this is going to change the entire youth program. I'm excited for the change it will bring into the lives of the young women and the young men and the growth of the church. To sum it all up. My mission was amazing and I will be grateful for the rest of eternity for it. The only thing that will top it? A mission with David.