30 Year Anniversary!

30 years ago today I began an 18 month journey that was the best decision of my life.  I had contemplated serving a mission my whole life.  After I thought I might want to change my career path from pre-med to nursing, I thought it was a good opportunity to take a break from school and serve a full-time mission for the Lord.  Incidentally, after serving my mission, I decide to stay on the pre-med course after all.

So, I left school my sophomore year at Utah State University and came home and worked at KinderCare to earn money for my mission.  I worked there maybe eight or nine months.  I did the necessary steps and paperwork to apply to serve a mission.  After you submit your papers, there is about a three week wait until you get your call in the mail.  There is much anticipation during that time because you could be called anywhere in the world speaking any language.

I received my mission call in the mail in October 1991.  Opening a mission call is a rite of passage and something you never forget.

I was called to serve in the Florida Tampa Mission of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  English-speaking.  (We did have Spanish speaking missionaries in my mission).  I was thrilled!  So excited to be staying stateside and speaking English! 

I was to report to the Provo MTC on January 15, 1992.  There I would receive intensive training for three weeks, then fly to Tampa, Florida.  What we call the mission field.

On Sunday, January 12, 1992 I gave my missionary farewell talk in church.  Then on Wednesday, January 15, 1992 my family drove the 4 mile, 10-15 minute drive from our house in Orem, Utah to drop me off.  Yes, the MTC was in my backyard.  Missionaries come from all over the world to train there, and I grew up there.  Made it convenient.  :-)

Back in those days, families could go with their missionary inside the MTC.  They had a meeting and then it was time to say goodbye for 18 months or two years and then families go out one door and missionaries out the other.  I think it actually made it a little harder knowing that I could walk home if I wanted to.

The MTC was an intensely spiritual experience.  It was a big change and quite a challenge.  But I made it through.  And before I knew it I was off to the mission field.  

Pointing to my mission on the giant world map at the MTC.  I think every missionary has this picture.

My MTC district with our evening teacher.  In the hallway outside of our classroom.  January 1992

This classroom is where I spent most of my waking hours at the MTC.  The empty chair is my desk.

Me (Sister Stone), Sister Paulson, Sister Parent in our MTC classroom.

Me and Sister Paulson studying in our MTC bedroom. Sister Parent shared the room with us and had a desk on the other side.  There were two sets of bunk beds per room.

Taking a break from studying pose for this picture.  Not sure what I'm doing with my hand.

The Elders in my MTC district on our way to or from the Provo Temple.  In the MTC we got to attend the temple once a week.

Sister Stone, Sister Paulson, and Sister Parent left side.  Writing letters and doing laundry on P-day in the MTC laundry room.

Another P-day (preparation day) with my companions in the MTC laundry room.

The Elders in my district posing in our classroom between classes.

My companions and I am with another sister companionship from a neighboring district.  Looks like we're practicing the first discussion.

Back then English-speaking missionaries spend three weeks in the MTC.  Foreign speaking missionaries spent eight weeks learning the language also.  

After my three weeks were up, I was excited to fly to the mission field, which for me was Tampa Florida.

From the MTC you board a bus to the Salt Lake City airport.  Also, back in those days you could meet your family at the airport and they could come wait at the terminal with you.

I like this picture of Lisa and me at the Salt Lake City airport as I await my departure to Tampa Florida.  February 5, 1992

This is the same photo as above but uncropped.  I couldn't find a picture of me with Juliet and this one is funny.  Juliet far left.  Michael far right.  I don't know why they both didn't just get in the photo.

Not the best shot of me but it is the only picture I had with Michael.  Michael was only 14 when I left, and 16 when I got home.  He changed a lot.

Me and Dad.

Me, Mom, Michael looking thrilled to see me.

Somewhere 30,000 feet over the United States of America between Salt Lake City and Tampa Florida.  February 5, 1992

My first area, Zephyrhills, Florida.  Tracting with my trainer, Sister Beck.  We ran into this little boy and his family on the road burning ants with a magnifying glass.  For some reason, little kids love me.  :-)  We had never met this family before.

This is where we lived in Zephyrhills.  A tiny one-bedroom apartment.  Those mailboxes are where I got all my letters.  And of course our mission car, a white Ford tempo.

We spent a minimum of 15 hours per week tracting (knocking doors).  We always carried Books of Mormon with us and usually a survey.

Notice the mud splattered on the back of my legs.  All in a days work.  :-)

This was taken doing our weekly service.  We were picking up trash on the side of the road.  It was Sister Beck's idea to pose like this with the armadillo.

Sister Beck and Sister Stone.  February or March 1992

A billboard we made in the Brooksville church.

Sister Beck and I both have a soft spot for animals, especially dogs we encountered.  We would always stop and pet them.  One time I remember we came across a stray hungry dog.  We went to the nearest convenience store and got him some food.  I don't know if it was this guy or not.

The changing of the guard.  Sister Beck was going home and I received a new companion, Sister Shorthill.  Brooksville, Florida.  April 1992

Shorthill and I received a trainee from the MTC, Sister Vega.

Sister Vega and I got along well.

Looks like we snapped this photo before we did our hair.

Sister Shorthill and Sister Vega preparing to go tracting in Brooksville, Florida.  Spraying our legs with bug repellent was a necessary ritual before tracting if we didn't want to get eaten alive by mosquitoes.  The downside was that bug repellent usually ruined the elasticity in our nylons.

Sister Vega and I got transferred to Port Charlotte, Florida.  My favorite area!

One day we got a call from the zone leader asking us to dress in white for our next zone development meeting.  So Sister Vega and I had to go out and find white dresses.  We were also asked to do a presentation for the zone on baptism. 

Fort Myers Zone.  Summer 1992.

Sister Vega and I did a rap about baptism to the tune of "Ice Ice Baby".  We were legends in the mission after that.  :-)

I had a crush on one of the Elders in this Zone.  :-)

Sister Vega got transferred out of Port Charlotte and I received a greeny from the MTC.  Sister Wilson.  She was old.  She turned 25 while we were companions.  I teased her about being a quarter of a century.  She was born in Samoa but her family moved to Inglewood, California when she was young.

Sister Wilson and I got along great.  She and Vega were my two favorite companions.

December 9, 1992.  My 22nd birthday.  We were at a member's house.  The kid behind me, Nick, we taught and baptized.

A couple we were teaching invited us out on their boat.  We told them it was against mission rules but we broke the rules.  :-(  They told us they would not keep taking the discussions unless we went on the boat with them.  We taught them the fourth discussion on the boat.

It was super windy.

Sister Wilson and Sister Stone.

These were our first regular district leaders.  This was at a ZDM I think.  We had to meet outside for district meetings.  I only remember having one.  :-)  I liked just having zone conference and zone development meeting.

As missionaries we do four hours of service each week.  This was when we worked at the Sheriff's office inputting data in the computer.  A lot of check fraud I remember.  :-)

Something I spent a lot of time doing.  Explaining the Book of Mormon to a lady we found tracting.

Somewhere in Charlotte County.  This was a large area.  I believe it was a 30 mile radius.

After nine months in Port Charlotte -- an unheard of amount of time in one area -- I got transferred to Seminole.  I spent half my mission in Port Charlotte.  It was my favorite area.

After being transferred to the Seminole area, I received another new greeny to train straight out the MTC.  Sister Collett was from Centerville, Utah.  I don't know why President Brimhall always had me moving to new areas and opening them for sisters while sending me a greeny to train.  But it was fine.

Both angles inside the car.  Of course I was always driving because I was the senior companion.  :-)

Even though I was the driver I always had to pull over and read the map because my companions didn't know how.  :-)

ZDM

Horsing around in the park.

Doing a favorite activity, door finding.

This was outside our apartment building in Largo, Florida.  Our apartment was on the bottom floor a few doors down underneath the 8302 numbers.  That's me heading to our mission car.

I ended my mission in Seminole with Sister Erickson.  She was a little older than me.  She was from Las Vegas, Nevada.  

Posing with my favorite breakfast cereal.

A kid we taught and baptized.

Another zone meeting.

This is Kate on her baptism day.  Her son loved me.  :-)

Doing service at the school.

This is my buddy, James.  I primarily tutored him.

This is the teacher we worked with and two of the students.  Sister Erickson tutored the girl while I tutored James.

James and me.  He was a sweet boy.  It's hard to believe he is close to 40 now.

Dennis and Shannon's baptism.  This is a brother and sister that we taught.  Shannon is wearing my dress.

Florida had the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen.

It's fitting to end this post with this picture.  As the sun set on my mission.

I flew home on July 23, 1993.  It was a wild 18 months.  My mission was quite the adventure.  As the saying goes, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."  A lot of hard work and difficult times, but definitely worth it.  Best decision I ever made.  As Ronnie Milsap would say, "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

It's hard to believe it's been 30 years.  Happy anniversary to me!

That's my two cents.