It's hard to say exactly when I knew I would be serving a mission. I wasn't one of those girls that had her prayers answered by the announcement of the age change. I didn't receive a revelation to go because I would soon be turning 19. It was an extremely slow process of just turning the idea over and over in my mind. All growing up my plan was to get married or even just be engaged before I reached the age of 21. I would be attending "BYU-I DO" so clearly it was possible! I was down in Provo with my roommate during that conference weekend and wasn't actually watching when the announcement was made (I know, shame on me. I still kick myself over it.) which was probably a big part of my own delayed response. I realized I was in my first semester of college, never had a boyfriend, and wasn't really interested in anyone so what was my excuse now for not going. Over the next few months I watched how things were going, looking for any changes that would affect my decision. The longer I waited the more I knew Heavenly Father wanted me on a mission. I told myself that over winter break I would really take time to pray about it and figure out an answer.
Winter break passed and I started my second semester of school. By this point I knew if I prayed about it the answer would be yes so I continued to avoid it. Heavenly Father knew me too well and sent me a roommate who was a fresh return missionary. She hadn't even been home a whole 3 weeks before coming up to school! As soon as I found out, I knew she had been put strategically in my life. Over the semester I was given little pushes and shoves towards a mission. I was given the advice to make a decision and live with it for a week or two and see how it felt. Peace always followed when I chose a mission.
Winter semester ended, I came home, and continued with life. A month or two passed. I began to feel extremely lost. Like I was just wandering aimlessly in life not fulfilling some purpose. I couldn't figure out what it was. I was a student working toward an education, faithful member in my ysa ward which I love, what was I doing wrong? It would be so frustrating to me when people would ask me what I was doing in life, of course bringing up the question if I was thinking about going on a mission or not, and I always wanted to yell that it was none of their business. By mid-June I was beaten down and humbled enough to be receptive to the answer I had been getting all along. A mission was where I was supposed to be. I began my papers within the week and a month or so later they were in to Salt Lake! There were certainly days when I felt like I was being dragged behind a race car or running faster than I was able but somehow it always felt right.
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