Jonah was a prophet in the Bible who was called to a city Ninevah. Now Ninevah was a city that was very wicked, and God was depending on Jonah to go and save it-to cry the people unto repentance. For that very reason, Jonah was scared. How was he supposed to cry a city to repentance?
On September 8th, 2016-I received the greatest news of my life. I was called as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. God asked me to labor for 18 months in Trujillo, Peru (the South mission). I cannot even begin to express in that moment how God testified to me, "this is where you are called to go."
Unlike Ninevah, Trujillo was not filled of utterly wicked people God was urging me to cry unto repentance. Heavenly Father simply asks His full-time missionaries to "Invite others to come unto Christ by helping them receive the restored Gospel through faith in Jesus Christ and His Atonement, repentance, baptism, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end."
Like Jonah, there were moments I felt quite inadequate to fulfill that calling. On January 17th, 2017 I reported to the Lima Peru Missionary Training Center (MTC) to start my 18 month journey.
My time in the MTC felt like I was on top of the world. I would joke around and say it was just an Especially for Youth (EFY) with black name tags. I mean we had a schedule, amazing groups of youth our age to be around all day and figure out a language, (our MTC districts) we could speak Spanglish as we pleased, and we laughed all day! "This whole mission thing is a breeze," I thought on many occasions. I had hard times with the occasional homesickness, but I was happy in my own world of the MTC.
I felt like Jonah in those moments, even if he had gone as far as he could from Ninevah-I still went to Peru! I was doing great, and I only assumed Trujillo would be easier. I felt as Jonah did in those moments, fast asleep on a stormy ship.
February 28th, 2017-I received my rough wake up call, just as Jonah did. We took our 2am flight from Lima Peru to Trujillo Peru, coming in bright and early to the Trujillo South Mission. I had slept about 4 hours the night before, and ready as ready could be to start tracting, teaching, and baptizing all of Trujillo.
I'll never forget arriving at our apartment with my trainer on that first day. She happily opened the door to our apartment and I just saw a huge flight of stairs, looking at my large suitcases I did my best to smile as we lugged them up the cement stairs. My trainer showed me around our little apartment that consisted of three small rooms-one for our beds, one for our studies, and one just in case the sister missionaries stayed with us overnight to be close to the mission offices.
I did my best to not complain, and keep my tears in my eyes. I was having a hard time. My trainer didn't speak much english, I didn't speak much Spanish, and these definitely were not the nice furnished rooms I had seen in those missionary videos, The District. I started to realize as I was unpacking my bags and sweating through my blouse-that I missed my family. I missed familiar things. I missed English!
That night, I wrote in my journal;
"I'm using the tissues that Hermana Whitney gave me to wipe the tears rolling down my face. I thought I was ready. I'm understanding for the most part, but this is harder than I could have ever put my finger on. This has been one of the longest days of my life, and I miss a familiar face already. I want to know and grow. I want to be the servant God expects me to be. I'm here in Trujillo, working to be the best missionary, daughter of God, and someday wife and mother I can be.
In Trujillo, and making the MOST of it for the Lord's children,
love, Hermana Barnes"
Even typing those words now bring back the sick feeling I had in my stomach that night. I felt such an unworthiness to be a servant of God at that time. I kept doing what missionaries do; wake up, exercise, eat, teach, study, and serve. I had grown to already love the people, but I felt so out of place.
That Sunday, was Fast Sunday. I was determined to find an answer from God of all I felt in those moments-to just know if that's where He wanted me. In the best Spanish I could muster up, I sat my companion down on that Sunday morning telling her, "Today is Fast Sunday. I am going to fast and ask God if I should stay here or if I need to go home." Like a loving companion and trainer, she expressed her love to me that everything would be ok, and that I was supposed to be there.
That day sitting in Sacrament meeting, I hardly understood what was actually going on. I could only understand two simple words, "Dios vive." So many people kept testifying, "God lives." I wanted to scream and cry of frustration to God, "How can you say that," I wanted to scream. "I'm honestly suffering, I don't understand Spanish, I don't understand what is going on." That whole Sunday I sat through the meetings, crying and thinking, "What have I done thinking I could come here? Why is this SO HARD? I thought I was supposed to come and serve, but did I make a mistake?"
I called my mission president that day and told him, "I'm ready to go home. I've learned what I needed to, I've got my goals and plans for what I want to do when I go home. I'm ready President." The next day we met in his office and he explained to me a little bit of the process I would have to go through if I decided to return home. "That's totally fine!" I thought, "I know this is what I've got to do." Just then, President Rios asked me to write my moms cell phone number on a piece of paper. I willingly did it thinking, "It hasn't been that long, I haven't forgotten my mom's phone number!" He called in another Elder to help translate and began explaining the situation; that I had come to him with a desire to return home as soon as possible. He then passed me the phone to talk to my mom. As I picked up the phone, tears came pouring down my cheeks. "I can't let my mom down." I thought, "I know that this is going to break her heart."
My mom asked me what was going on, if I was doing ok, and finally to just try it out for two more weeks. "Two more weeks?!" I thought. I begged my mom to just please understand and trust me. She said she did and that she loved me but wanted me to keep going for two more weeks. With tears in my eyes and frustration in my heart, I agreed to two more weeks.
Those two weeks were honestly the longest two weeks of my life. My mom emailed me that same day after we had talked asking me to not think of home or family, and just focus on the Lords work. I sat in internet that day, in a run down internet cafe just crying. I thought, "Why can't anybody understand me?!"
My dad happened to be on a business trip at that time and sent me the exact words I needed to hear at that time,
Through conversations with your wonderful mom and the short emails we have exchanged today, I believe I understand your situation and I feel compelled to help you look at this critical choice in a slightly different light.
I know I have bored you a million times with my mission memories, but I wanted to repeat something that is very relative to your current situation.
When I arrived in Taiwan, it was such a cultural shock it was almost like a weird dream. The first full day on island we were out doing a scavenger hunt with no language skills, a list of 10 odd items to buy, and a card with the mission address on it. Not a lot of help in a city of millions that didn’t speak english. The second day was splits and door approaches with great Elders. It was terrifying, and yet fun. After a day or two we were assigned our senior companions and we were off doing the Lord’s work. The foggy dream was doing well until about the two week mark… and then I hit a wall. The Great Wall to be exact.
That morning I woke up, showered, dressed, and looked outside. I could see blocks and blocks of run down apartment buildings. I could smell the open sewers in the distance and other smells I couldn’t identify. People were just starting to move around that morning and then it hit me. Taiwan sucked! I hated it! The food wasn’t all that good. Everyone had the same color of hair. School kids had the same haircuts and uniforms. If someone said “hello” to me one more time, I felt like I was going to loose it. It wasn’t just what I could see, it what I felt! I felt like a gray cloud was following me…in me, around me, over me. It was hard to breath sometimes. I wasn’t happy at all and it didn’t look like it would ever change. How could these other missionaries stand it!
That feeling lasted for days. I don’t recall any single event that changed it, but I can think of a few that cracked the ice. First, we were attending a ward meeting, sitting in the back with our trainers during sacrament meeting. They would translate for us so we could understand what was going on. When the Bishop stood up and started talking, he spoke so soft. He had to be 60 years old and looked a little tired. Why would a 60 year old have a 5 year old son anyway! It happens that he grew up catholic and became a priest for most of his life. He trained at the Vatican and was devout. He was tracked out by a couple of missionaries and he firmly and politely told the youngsters that they couldn’t teach him anything. One of them couldn’t take no for an answer. He bought the book “A Marvelous Work and A Wonder” and delivered it to the priest without much of a commitment. The priest read the book quickly and contact the missionaries and said, “I’m ready to be taught”. After joining the church he married and had a son. That brings us to the sacrament meeting.
As the Bishop spoke, I asked my companion to quit translating because I couldn’t hear the Bishop. I was understanding the Bishop and I couldn’t speak Chinese! I’m sure other contributors to break the ice and drive away the clouds were the brief presence of the Spirit as we taught (or as my companion taught) the interested investigators. I also remember morning Scripture Study and devotionals were a simple, and sometimes crude spiritual treat. The bottom line was this, things changed.
I can’t bare to think what would have happened if I left Taiwan when I felt “it sucked”. First of all, all of the initial experiences that formed the footings and foundation to my testimony would not have happened. The crucible of rejection, humidity, and sometimes bothersome companions wouldn’t have happened. The love for my Chinese brothers and sisters wouldn’t have formed. When I was called to serve Chinese Speaking peoples in California, there would have been no pain to leave Taiwan and then no pain to leave California. I wouldn’t have the job I have loved these last 10 years. I wouldn’t know the Buddhists on the other side of the door (aka Cooper, his family, parents, grandma, uncles and aunts). I wouldn’t be Uncle Kent to so many asians. I wouldn’t have a clue how much I missed… because I would have missed it.
You know me Marissa, I am a straight talker….sometimes a little unfiltered. I was there when the Spirit bore witness through Patriarch Anderson and I heard a missionary blessing like I have never heard before or since then. I was there when you opened your call to Peru and the Spirit said “this is where you are called to serve Me”. I was there when President Charlesworth gave a very specific blessing as he set you apart. The Savior needs you right where you are and he needs you now. He has promised you special tools and assignments through priesthood blessings that are amazing. Please give the Lord this time. BYUI will still be there when you get home. The temples can use patrons that don’t have mission calls until you fulfill your call and return. Jobs come and go every day, but a call from the Lord to serve a full time mission as a young person….it comes once in eternity.
I bare my testimony to you that you will suffer a little here and there along with other members and missionaries around the world. I know the Lord knows you personally and has NEVER left your side. You are serving with wonderful leaders, sisters, and elders. That is not to mention those that serve with you that you cannot see. Your family on the other side of the vail. Perhaps this is how my mom can finally go on a mission! And the Peruvians that have embraced the Gospel and want the eternal blessings shared with their descendants in Trujillo. I testify that the Holy work you are called to do is yours and doors remain locked that only you can open. I testify that the impact will be eternal and there will be fruit harvested decades down the road that you plant today. God never issues a calling in any capacity without providing a way for us to serve. Of these things I testify in His Holy Name, Amen.
Now that I have told you the straight up truth, I hope you know that your mom and I and your whole family love you without condition!!! I love you so much I had to tell you the truths I know and to encourage you to give it a few more months….14 or 15 more. You will have tough days, but you need to stay to have the great days too! I don’t care with people at home think, but I do care what the Lord thinks. We look forward to hearing of your ups and downs….all of them.
Love,
Dad
In those two weeks, I experienced more miracles from God than ever before. I don't think I had ever prayed so much in my life until I had come up to that point. I fervently prayed to know of His will, and have the courage to follow it. I read and studied my Patriarcal Blessing to know if God wanted me as His missionary. I knew in my heart I wasn't supposed to leave Trujillo, or the opportunity to be a missionary.
I felt as Jonah as he said,
"I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and he heard me; out of the belly of hell I cried I, and thou heardest my voice.
For thou hadst cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all thy billows and thy waves passed over me."
(Jonah 2: 2,3)
Obviously, I stayed. Those 18 months as a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ in Trujillo Peru, was a time that will be forever sacred for me. I can't say that after those two weeks it got easier or that I didn't struggle here or there-but I certainly was able to know my Savior, Redeemer, and Friend Jesus Christ more. I was able to know that He lives, just as they testified my first Sunday there.
I know without a shadow of a doubt, that I had to go through that hard time of my mission to help me become closer to my Savior, as well as my Heavenly Father. I testify that God will help us with those that surround us, from this side of the veil as well as the other.
More than anything, I know that we all have moments when we feel like Jonah. When we want to run from what is hard for us, when we feel quite insufficient to do the Lords will. But as always, He has always promised us that,
"He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life that he may draw all men unto him. Wherefore, he commandeth none that they shall not partake of his salvation."
But it really says;
"He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of [your name]; for he loveth [your name], even that he layeth down his own life that he may draw [your name] unto him. Wherefore, he commandeth none that they shall not partake of his salvation."
(2 Nephi 26:24)
Christ lives and loves. I know that His love reaches far beyond our sins and mistakes we seem to make, He truly suffered for all. And I know He suffered when I felt so alone in those moments on my mission when I felt nobody understood me or what I was going through, I add my testimony to that of Elder Bruce R. McConkie,
"I am one of his witnesses, and in a coming day I shall feel the nail marks in his hands and in his feet and shall wet his feet with my tears. But I shall not know any better then than I know now that he is God's Almighty Son, that he is our Savior and Redeemer, and that salvation comes in and through his atoning blood and in no other way."
I was Jonah. But I learned as Jonah did, that God will always help us get where He wants us to go, and help us become who He wants us to become. And that it is only through His son, Jesus Christ.
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