In December 2010, my son entered the Provo MTC. He was called to serve a 2 year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He spent 10 weeks there training and learning Italian. In February he embarked on the biggest adventure of his life. His journey to Italy began on a Tuesday morning at 10 AM (where he was required to meet and travel to the Salt Lake City Airport). He flew to Denver, Colorado. From Denver, he flew to Frankfurt, Germany. From Frankfurt, he flew to Milan, Italy. He arrived in Italy Wednesday at 5 PM.
We talked to him on the phone when he was in Salt Lake and Denver, but then didn't hear from him for a few days. I was sad to find out the the Mission President's wife called some of the parents of the other missionaries to say their kids had made it (14 had traveled together), but she had not called us.
The first message we get from my son is that he wants to come home. He had only been there a couple of days. This was a night and day difference from our phone calls with him. He was so excited to be going and couldn't wait to be there. What happened in those first few days I do not know, but something happened. I couldn't believe the message that I had read. I immediately forwarded it to his mission president. I also sent a message to my bishop and stake president. This is the first time I have had a missionary. I didn't know what to do with a son who wanted to come home.
If he needed to come home because of worthiness issues or health issues or something that made sense than this would be a whole different story. Even if it had been a few weeks into his mission, this would have been a different story, but when it was only days, I knew something needed to be done, so I did all that I could at the time which was to fast, pray, go to the temple and let those who might be able to do something know.
I have no idea what my son was really going through, but this was a hard thing for my family to deal with. We were sad, then mad, then irritated, sad some more, and so on and so on. My son has no idea how much his siblings look up to him and how let down they felt by him. As a parent, I mostly worried about how my son would treat himself if he came home early. I think he would be his own worse critic and would really have a hard time with this his entire life.
The next few days were trying. I believe in the power of prayer. I know that my son has so many people who care about him and love him, so I asked if they would keep him in their prayers and since the upcoming Sunday was fast Sunday, I also asked if they would join our family in fasting for my son. I was overwhelmed with the love, compassion, and kindness of my friends, neighbors and complete strangers. I literally received hundreds of messages. I heard and received story upon story of personal missionary experiences. I was strengthened by their love and testimonies. I wished that my son could have felt the love and compassion from all of these people.
Fast Sunday came. Our family fasted longer than we had ever done together as a family. For my youngest it was hard, but she really wanted to do it. Even though I was a mess the week before, I woke up Sunday with the feeling that I have witnessed the Love of our Lord. I have no idea what the outcome will be for my son, but I knew that the Lord was mindful of him and of all the prayers and fasting that were being done on his behalf. I bore my testimony that day. How I don't really know. I just did. I didn't get up to thank or have some great story to tell, but a simple testimony. One that had been strengthened and needed to be shared.
Phone calls were placed to and from Italy. I am so blessed that my son has the Mission President he has and that we have a Stake President that is kind and caring and took the extra effort to set up a weekly call to my son to help put him back together each week.
Monday, following Fast Sunday, my son said he was staying - that he would give it 6 months. Tuesday he said he wasn't. Wednesday our Stake President got him to commit to a week and to take it week by week from there, and so on. It has been an emotional roller coaster for all of us, not knowing what to plan on or what to expect and not really understanding why. I finally got the confirmation that I had done what I was supposed to do. I had let it go. It was up to the Lord to help all of us get through whatever the outcome might be.
I don't see that the only successful outcome for my son is to serve a full 2 year mission. I wouldn't see or treat him like a failure if he were to come home. If he were to come home, there would be a lot of adjusting both for him and for us. We would have to then arm him with the skills to move on with his life, and just like sending him on a mission, I feel just as inadequate to do that.
So here we are a few weeks later. We finally got a message from him that states that he is excited for Christmas in Italy! His message wasn't all rosy and happy, it was almost of a more rebellious nature, but I can see that he is working through some of the issues that he has been having and is running the range of emotions, like I had earlier. However, I never expected that he would be happy for something 9 months away. This seems like the glimmer of hope that he needed and that we had all prayed for. Right now he is serving in Milan, Italy. I would sure love to be there. The 2 pics are from Milan.
We talked to him on the phone when he was in Salt Lake and Denver, but then didn't hear from him for a few days. I was sad to find out the the Mission President's wife called some of the parents of the other missionaries to say their kids had made it (14 had traveled together), but she had not called us.
The first message we get from my son is that he wants to come home. He had only been there a couple of days. This was a night and day difference from our phone calls with him. He was so excited to be going and couldn't wait to be there. What happened in those first few days I do not know, but something happened. I couldn't believe the message that I had read. I immediately forwarded it to his mission president. I also sent a message to my bishop and stake president. This is the first time I have had a missionary. I didn't know what to do with a son who wanted to come home.
If he needed to come home because of worthiness issues or health issues or something that made sense than this would be a whole different story. Even if it had been a few weeks into his mission, this would have been a different story, but when it was only days, I knew something needed to be done, so I did all that I could at the time which was to fast, pray, go to the temple and let those who might be able to do something know.
I have no idea what my son was really going through, but this was a hard thing for my family to deal with. We were sad, then mad, then irritated, sad some more, and so on and so on. My son has no idea how much his siblings look up to him and how let down they felt by him. As a parent, I mostly worried about how my son would treat himself if he came home early. I think he would be his own worse critic and would really have a hard time with this his entire life.
The next few days were trying. I believe in the power of prayer. I know that my son has so many people who care about him and love him, so I asked if they would keep him in their prayers and since the upcoming Sunday was fast Sunday, I also asked if they would join our family in fasting for my son. I was overwhelmed with the love, compassion, and kindness of my friends, neighbors and complete strangers. I literally received hundreds of messages. I heard and received story upon story of personal missionary experiences. I was strengthened by their love and testimonies. I wished that my son could have felt the love and compassion from all of these people.
Fast Sunday came. Our family fasted longer than we had ever done together as a family. For my youngest it was hard, but she really wanted to do it. Even though I was a mess the week before, I woke up Sunday with the feeling that I have witnessed the Love of our Lord. I have no idea what the outcome will be for my son, but I knew that the Lord was mindful of him and of all the prayers and fasting that were being done on his behalf. I bore my testimony that day. How I don't really know. I just did. I didn't get up to thank or have some great story to tell, but a simple testimony. One that had been strengthened and needed to be shared.
Phone calls were placed to and from Italy. I am so blessed that my son has the Mission President he has and that we have a Stake President that is kind and caring and took the extra effort to set up a weekly call to my son to help put him back together each week.
Monday, following Fast Sunday, my son said he was staying - that he would give it 6 months. Tuesday he said he wasn't. Wednesday our Stake President got him to commit to a week and to take it week by week from there, and so on. It has been an emotional roller coaster for all of us, not knowing what to plan on or what to expect and not really understanding why. I finally got the confirmation that I had done what I was supposed to do. I had let it go. It was up to the Lord to help all of us get through whatever the outcome might be.
I don't see that the only successful outcome for my son is to serve a full 2 year mission. I wouldn't see or treat him like a failure if he were to come home. If he were to come home, there would be a lot of adjusting both for him and for us. We would have to then arm him with the skills to move on with his life, and just like sending him on a mission, I feel just as inadequate to do that.
So here we are a few weeks later. We finally got a message from him that states that he is excited for Christmas in Italy! His message wasn't all rosy and happy, it was almost of a more rebellious nature, but I can see that he is working through some of the issues that he has been having and is running the range of emotions, like I had earlier. However, I never expected that he would be happy for something 9 months away. This seems like the glimmer of hope that he needed and that we had all prayed for. Right now he is serving in Milan, Italy. I would sure love to be there. The 2 pics are from Milan.
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