With shaking hands, I pulled the white envelope out from underneath the pile of ads in my mail box. I couldn't believe it was here. This moment was so long-anticipated that the full impact of it never really hit me. (Even now it is still surreal.) I climbed into my car with shaky hands, set the envelope on the passenger seat, texted my family that it had come, and turned off my phone.
In what seemed like an eternity, I drove the two miles to the temple, singing to myself along the way to calm my nerves after sitting at the same traffic light for three rounds. Of all days, why did traffic have to be terrible NOW? It took every ounce of effort to be patient. Maybe the envelope next to me would call me to a place where there isn't a temple for hundreds of miles. Who was I to complain about an extra 10 minutes?
With measured effort I walked up the steps to the temple with my call in hand, singing "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go, Dear Lord" softly, and I sat down by the fountain. A man eyed my big white envelope as he walked by, knowing exactly what I was about to do, but otherwise I was alone. I said a prayer, then I carefully opened the envelope, shut my eyes tight, and pulled out the manila letter.
"Dear Sister Nordstrom:"
Oh my goodness.
"You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints."
I stopped there, crying with joy. That was the most important line. It didn't matter where I was called, when I would go, in what language I would preach. That information seemed so arbitrary (although I knew that my call was anything but random).
"You are assigned to labor in the Tennessee Nashville Mission."
I laughed out loud, and a fresh batch of tears began streaming down my cheeks. It's perfect! As soon as I read that, I had the strangest sensation. My call assignment was FAMILIAR. It was not some foreign, strange call, but rather it felt as if I was being reminded of something I already knew.
"It is anticipated that you will serve for a period of 18 months. You should report to the Provo Missionary Training Center on Wednesday, February 1, 2012. You will prepare to preach the gospel in the English language."
I didn't even notice those details until I read it to myself again later. The next few paragraphs stated that I was considered worthy to represent the Lord, that "[my] purpose will be to invite others to come unto Christ by helping them receive the restored gospel through faith in Jesus Christ and His Atonement, repentance, baptism, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end."
Second-most important line in the letter? "Greater blessings and more happiness than you have yet experienced await you as you humbly and prayerfully serve the Lord in this labor of love among His children."
Then I stared at the signature of the letter for a full minute. Thomas S. Monson. The Prophet of the world, The Presiding High Priest, The Seer and The Revelator, the Spokesman of God, our closest link on Earth to the Savior, had personally signed the paper I held in my hand.
I have five months to prepare for this new adventure. Even then I will still feel unready for the responsibilities that lie ahead. I could not be more excited. I know that the church I belong to brings greater happiness than any human on this earth will ever find elsewhere. I am a member of Christ's church, and I can't wait to share His message with others. I have already begun praying every night that those I meet will have their hearts softened and prepared so the Holy Spirit can teach them through me, so they can receive the knowledge, wisdom, and joy that over 14 million people in the world already have.
Soon I will spread my wings in Nashville. =)
