9
Apr

miss

I love missionary home-comings! I love that they are still on fire for the gospel! I love that they stumble over their words and try to make sense of the English language all over again. I love that they hug everyone or shake hands with such purpose and call you Brother or Sister. That they say the same thing twenty times with just a little different word order. I actually love the little lilt and sing-song-y wave in their voice. You know what I mean. Their voice goes up at the end of every single sentence.

I love that they made a difference and are still ready to make a difference. I love that they are ready to take on the world. I love their commitment. I love that they come home and split with the full-time missionaries.

I also love the family get-togethers that come with missionaries.

I love attending other wards and playing the “who do you know?” game.

I love that their shoes are worn out or that their suit is either way too big or way too tight!

I love their stories. I love to hear faith-building experiences. I love to see them choke up when they recall a tender moment when they changed someone’s life. I love to hear how they love the people, how they weren’t quite ready to come home. I love that they are already making plans to go back someday and see all of the people who made a difference in their lives the last two years.

I love to hear how their own testimony grew. I love how their families are blest when they are gone.

I love how my own testimony grows when I hear their words of conviction.

Sometimes, I think if things were different I would be retiring right now and going on a mission in a few years. I think how wonderful it would be to work in the temple or the genealogy library or on Temple Square.

For now, I’ll just keep going to all the missionary homecomings I can find.

On a long trip like the one yesterday to Star Valley, I listened to Truman G. Madsen’s CD’s about the Prophet Joseph. Oh, my gosh, it was WON-derful! I could listen to anything about Joseph Smith.

I am so grateful for him and for all that he did. [And I’m pretty sure . . . still does!]