Oh, That I Were An Angel

When I received my mission call to Taiwan, I had no special connection to this country. Heck, I didn't even know were it was! Furthermore, I'd never given Asia, as in the-entire-continent, much thought, aside from the passing assumption that Japan was going to take over the world - that was a big theory back in the 90's.

So being called to Taiwan, before seeing this place, seemed completely random to me. In fact, after reading my call, that was pretty much my reaction. "Taiwan..... Taiwan?!?.... Taiwan......" What did Taiwan have to do with me or any of my life experience up to that point? I didn't have ancestors from Taiwan. I didn't have Asian friends.

Maybe I was still excited to come because it wasn't Arizona....

In the MTC, I began falling in love with this country and it's people. By the time I got here, I felt like Ammon, missionary to the Lamanites in the Book of Mormon. I desired "to dwell among this people for a time. Yea, perhaps even 'til the day I [died.]" (Alma 17:23) I had a quiet hope in my heart that they would extend my mission to 2 years. I only got the standard extension (for those who want one) of one transfer. By the time my mission was through, I felt like Paul. I had 'fought a good fight, finished my course, and kept the faith.'

I don't remember feeling much beyond LOVING to share this country with my mom and my husband on subsequent visits. I am certainly LOVING to share Taiwan with my children. But I am aware of a greater desire - the desire to reach out and bless God's children in Taiwan.

On my mission I chalked this desire up to the missionary mantel. Could these feelings now just be a memory of what those feelings were like? More than a shadow of a feeling that once was, I still DO feel now like Alma. "Oh that I were an angel and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God.... Yea, I would declare unto every soul... that they should repent and come unto our God, that there might not be more sorrow upon all the face of the earth." (Alma 29: 1,2)

Perhaps I feel these feelings so strongly because I do see sorrow, or assume that it is there, beneath the noise, the lifeless eyes, and the mass consumerism. I want to lift those around me - ANYONE who would listen - to a life of fuller purpose and connection to the eternal. I remember now why it seemed so easy to contact people: if I didn't open my mouth to EVERYONE, how terribly small the odds would be that the people here find Jesus Christ!

I find myself wishing and planning for my next mission. In Fenqihu, I was jealous of Sister Wu and Father William at the Catholic church. I told Q, "If WE were serving here like they are, we would go meet everyone in the village. I would teach free dance lessons. We would love and serve anyone who would let us."

Tonight, as we trudged home from the laundry-mat and finding dinner, we passed a line of people on the street waiting to put their garbage in the truck as it came past. Again, I said to Q, " Why did I never think of this as a missionary? Here the whole neighborhood is! Imagine if we had a flier and walked just ahead of the truck, handing a flier with our contact info to everyone we met!"

Can a mission mantel return? Can it return without a calling? What does it mean in the scriptures when it says, "If ye have desires to serve, ye are called to the work?"

Before I met up with Q back at the laundry, I had walked about a mile down the road to a zizucan (akin to Panda Express) for what Q wanted to eat for dinner: rice with a lot of veggies. As I walked back, legs aching from activity today, I became aware of a woman ahead of me whose scooter wouldn't start. By the time I was 10 feet from her, I had heard the engine start and fail probably 4 times. I offered a prayer for her. I didn't know who she was or where she needed to go, but I wanted to help lift her burden of that moment. As I said my simple prayer, asking God to start her scooter, the engine must have failed another two times. Then, just as I got even with her, I felt a surge of joy pass through me and move in her direction. Just at that moment, her scooter started. If you DON'T chalk that up to coincidence, what ELSE could it be but the power of God moving in me to bless his children? Is this not, in it's simplest sense, what mission is, at the very least?

I don't think this woman noticed me at all. And that was fine. I sent my prayers for her joy and safety with her as she drove away. And I thanked God to have that moment to once again be an instrument in His hands. It was incredible. And I prayed too, that these opportunities to reach out, with my own strength, and/or with God's power to bless, will come my way again!