Flashback Friday:

This morning I heard happy news from my sister, Kathleen. She is getting her mission papers ready to send in! Hot dog! I couldn't wish for anything more wonderful and exciting for her right now. All afternoon I have been grinning about the thought of her serving our Savior full-time somewhere that the Lord really needs her. Not just anybody, but her.



I remember when I was deciding to go, I was so confused and worried that I was making the wrong decision. A cute guy I knew from Freshman year, Ammon, had just started asking me out and I was surrounded by all of my best friends. Why would I want to leave such a great phase of my life to dress in frumpy clothes and read the scriptures for a year and a half?! I moved forward anyway, and as I did, I quickly learned that even though we know what makes us happy, Heavenly Father knows what will make us joyful. He knows how to bless us better than we can imagine.

Heavenly Father LOVES his missionaries. All of the prayers of family members and friends are answered on the missionary's behalf in so many ways. I felt this many times while serving, but a couple of them still stand out to me.


I.
One hot day in my first area, my companion and I came home for lunch after a long morning of rejection. I reached hopefully in the mailbox but was greeted with no mail for me. I was so let down. I felt like I really needed a friendly hello that day and none had come. I felt all alone and tired. Nobody cared.


As we finished our short break at home and were coming back down our steep steps, a man pulled up in his car and asked, "is there a Sister Malinda Vance here?" I nodded. "I am from the other side of town" he said, "and found this letter on the ground with your name on it." It was a letter from one of my best friends, Rachel Young (now Scott) that was full of all kinds of fun updates. Not only was I happy to get mail, but I was reminded of how well we are known by Heavenly Father and how much he loves to bless us, even in the little things.


II.
At one point of my mission I had a companion who wasn't very happy and as a result, would not talk. At all. The companionship started off great, but by week three, she had started giving me the silent treatment and no matter what I tried, resentment was the only thing I felt from her.


Near the end of our six week transfer, I couldn't take it anymore. One night I slipped out into the front room and started crying and praying that I could be saved from the situation I was in. I prayed for a long time about what was going on. At the end of the prayer I added,"if possible, could I be transferred to the mission office as a media sister (we just got a new mission president and I thought it would be neat to serve nearby him so that I could get to know him better) and could I be companions with Sister Barss (I had heard good things about her and was in need of serving with a friend)?" I quickly felt sheepish and ended my prayer with "Thy will be done." I felt much better and went back to sleep.


A day or two later, we got a call from our Zone Leader giving us our transfer assignments. "Sister Vance, you are being sent to Charleston as a Media Sister and your companion is going to be Sister Barss."


III.
In my second area we were invited over to the Pennington's home many times for dinner appointments. What fun we had! When it came time to move to my last area, I was sad to leave all of my good Charleston friends. However, I got the good news that Brother Pennington was the High Councilman over the (very small) Ravenswood Branch that I was being moved to. That gave me so much comfort because my new greeny and I would be opening the area and didn't know a soul (or even where the branch met, for that matter).


At the time, much of missionary work done in West Virginia was through tracting the hollers day in and day out. Even with my frumpy sister missionary shoes (the veil of ugliness descends on every sister missionary-sorry, Kathleen) my feet went bad and really started to hurt me. I knew I needed a blessing, but I didn't know who I should ask in the branch to help me. Before church, I prayed that if possible, Brother Pennington would be visiting the branch and could give me one.


Before church stared, my companion and I stood at the front doors greeting people as they came to worship. No Brother Pennington. Church was about to start and my hopes were drooping. All of a sudden, Brother Pennington came through the door! He told us that he wasn't going to come that day, but felt like he should.


As an older sister, I can't help but feel so excited for my sister. However, I also feel concern because I know that there will be hard times ahead for her. But then I am reminded of all of these special tender mercies and I have no doubt that she will do just fine. Great in fact. How happy I am that she will be able to have experiences of her own to help her on her way. She will know that she is loved and will always be grateful she got to go.


I have always been and I always will continue to treasure the experiences I had.


I felt this way even after I got home and spotted Ammon skipping (literally) around BYU campus with with his soon-to-be wife. That could have been me skipping happily with him....but thank heavens it wasn't! Heavenly Father knew that I needed a guy with testosterone!