Dear Doug,
Life, as you've heard me say before, is an adventure. And there is great joy in the journey.
And one of the journey's most precious endeavors is a full-time mission. Jump into yours with both feet; hold nothing back.
I once told a friend not of our faith that if you extracted everything that was spiritual from a mission — a process that would reduce a mission's value by, say, 99 percent — it would still be one of life's most worthwhile experiences.
The time spent on a mission is — in the most literal sense of the word — unique.
Never in mortality will you again have such a clear opportunity to concentrate so completely on a single — and wondrous — cause. Losing oneself in that singular focus, coupled with rich religious, cultural and human experiences, is what makes a mission journey so joyful.
But joyful doesn't mean easy.
Temporally, you'll have few worries. You won't have to put a whole lot of effort into deciding when and what to eat, where to sleep or what to wear. You won't have to worry about a car payment or if you have enough money for petrol.
You'll be tired. You'll be worn out. You'll probably be in weather either cold and wet or hot and humid.
But you won't have any worries. (Well, at least, nothing major.)
Spiritually, on the other hand, you'll have plenty on your plate. But the solution to those challenges is simple: obey the mission rules.
To be sure, no one is suggesting that you become a mindless robot. On the contrary, obeying the mission rules is a simple (and rather easy) step to surrendering yourself to God so that He can bless and inspire you as you require — a process that you'll find essential throughout your life.
On paper, it all sounds so simple. And it really is.
But in practice you might find it a bit difficult.
You're leaving a close-knit family. You'll be a long way from home in a place with few similarities to your own. You'll have some frustration and maybe a little discouragement. And sometimes your head won't readily believe what you know in your heart.
So what do you do?
Carry on. (A simple, but-not-too-simple, strategy.)
I promise you that as you do, you will be blessed. You will be strengthened. You will buoyed. You will be converted.
And you will succeed.
"And inasmuch as ye are humble and faithful and call upon my name, behold, I will give you the victory." (Doctrine and Covenants 104:82.)
As long as I'm being completely honest, I'm obligated to admit that sending you away isn't terribly easy for me either. (Well, except that I'll no longer be tripping over your shoes left in the middle of the family room.) But I am awed by your enthusiasm for, and faith in, your calling. And I have complete confidence that this is God's work and am so grateful that we can help bring Him the accompanying glory.
As a piece of parting advice, let me suggest that you continue in the kind of faith that President Gordon B. Hinckley declared is the ultimate strength of this work.
"This precious and marvelous gift of faith, this gift from God our Eternal Father, is still the strength of this work and the quiet vibrancy of its message. Faith underlies it all. Faith is the substance of it all. Whether it be going into the mission field, living the Word of Wisdom, paying one's tithing, it is all the same. It is the faith within us that is evidenced in all we do." (General Conference, April 2001.)
I love you, Doug. And I'm overjoyed to put you in the Lord's hands.
"Therefore, continue your journey and let your hearts rejoice; for behold, and lo, I am with you even unto the end." (Doctrine and Covenants 100:12.)
Love, Dad
