Frankie* is the mother of the little boy I take care of after kindergarten every day. We’ve become good friends since the morning she was driving to work and suddenly realized we were LDS–she called me up and asked, “Are you guys Mormons?” Something about my son’s “early morning church class,” my “volunteering every Tuesday night” (at the Family History Center) and my staying home with the kids–apparently, in Frankie’s mind, only Mormon moms do this– tipped her off, and that morning, she said, “It was like a boulder fell on me.”
Fortunately our being Mormon wasn’t a friendship deal-breaker for her. In fact, she was most interested”¦ it seems her best friend and her boss at work are both LDS, and they’ve set spectacular examples for her. Her best friend has a copy of the Book of Mormon that he and his girlfriend wrote their testimonies in, but hadn’t given it to her yet for whatever procrastinatical reason. Then she met me and found out I was LDS. “It’s like God’s trying to tell me something,” she said.
For me, it couldn’t have gone any other way. I’m a most reluctant missionary. My spiritual talents lie elsewhere. I know I should be more brave, but I’ve always been afraid of offending people. I like sensitivity and not stepping on toes. In the past I’ve been guilty of thinking, well, it’s not like people don’t know what Mormons are, and if they were really curious, they’d find out. Right?
This shouldn’t be my attitude (I mean, obviously). My parents joined the Church after being friendshipped and taught by their next-door neighbors in Springfield, Oregon, John and Cheryl Stewart, to whom I have since built a shrine in my living room. I love them for being brave, for opening their mouths. I love my parents for being sweet and humble enough to listen to them, and willing enough to follow and change their lives. I know it was scary for them. They are my family’s pioneers.
Because my family joined the Church and raised me as a member, I have had (aside from the requisite set of trials) blessings, protection, peace, and Joy with a capital J. When I think of John and Cheryl and how they helped not just my parents, but past and future generations of our family, it bothers me that I haven’t thought enough of my brothers and sisters around me to try to let them experience those same things. It’s not like people don’t need–or couldn’t use–the Gospel in their lives. So what’s my problem?
Since Frankie began attending meetings, my ward sisters have been adorable to her, and to me. Remember bringing a friend to Primary when you were little? Yeah - that’s how they’re making me feel. Praise, hugs, smiles all around”¦ it’s been great. If only I could take some credit for it–but Frankie just fell in my lap. The Lord knows me well enough to know that if I’m going to be a missionary, He’ll have to make it really easy for me to succeed.
I’m grateful, for Frankie’s sake and mine, that He tries.
I love me a good missionary story. And I’m as guilty as anyone of thinking, we’ll, we’re all right here, “if they’re curious they’d find out.” I know we’re supposed to pray for opportunities to share the gospel, but I get nervous about that too (and yes, I did once spend 18 months trying to do just that). I wonder if sometimes we’re not just afraid of offending, but we’re afraid of rejection as well.
This is my style of missionary work also.
I think it’s also a style of missionary work that results in real, staying converts when it works… and good friends even if it doesn’t. Everybody wins.
Now I could handle something like that. I am not good about approaching people about the gospel.
I did have a few friends in high school that I was brave enough to approach, and although none of them wanted anything to do with the church, I actually stayed friends with them (DaPoppins is one of them). So even though I was afraid, things still worked out.
I love that story. I have never been an accidental missionary–only an on-purpose full-time one, and then no missionary at all. It’s hard for me to break out of my circle of LDS friends, and living in Utah, I kind of assume that anyone who wants to know more about the church knows where to find us. But an accidental experience dropped in my lap would be welcome.
Maybe I should be praying for the one to fall in my lap. My husband isn’t active, so thinking I can bring anyone else the gospel just doesn’t add up for me. I can do it if they are brought to me, I guess. Wish I had thought of that. Happiness for you and your friend!!!
There is something about stopping perfect strangers in the street and talking about the gospel in French that is less scary to me than talking about the gospel to my neighbor. I found it mush easier to be a full-time missionary. Now as a regular member for a lot of reasons it is scarier.
I wish I could explain this to the sister missionary who stood up at our last Stake conference and loudly chastized us for not doing more missionary work. She actually screamed out,”Brothers and Sisters, Wake Up!!”
Here’s the best missionary story that I’ve read in a while on Mormon Hippocrates.
Some guy, a bishop/preacher in another church, prays to God to know how to get closer to Him, and the Spirit tells me, “go find the Mormonsl.”
Later, the bishop/preacher and his wife are at the laundromat and see Mormon missionaries, so the bishop goes up to them and asks to hear their message.
Heathermommy: How about this, look for French-speaking people in your town. Many French-speaking African immigrants are in the US. Most of them, even the Muslims, are wiling to receive a French Book of Mormon, or one of the 10 church videos that has a French audio track. They also speak many native dialects, for which the church also has material, Ewe, Fon, Fulani, Wolof, Bambara, Hausa, etc.
Ours was Milton and Elaine Guest. They taught my mom the words to the song O My Father, and it clicked. Our Father in Heaven has a simple, beautiful plan that included her. They then invited us to Family Home Evening EVERY.SINGLE.WEEK (our family was a blended seven), changing the course of our lives.
I have shamed both myself and my Maker a few times when I could have been a missionary, but I have also put myself out there a time or two as well. It’s kind of scary to think that “people are watching”…..isn’t it? And they are….
They are indeed watching. Although their signals get a little crossed sometimes… Frankie didn’t think I could wear make-up, so she was a bit shocked when she saw me that first Sunday morning before church. SHE didn’t wear any.
On the “Go find the Mormons!”: One of my fellow FHC staff members, before he was LDS, smoked a pipe and loved brandy and coffee, but quit all three, on his own, just a few weeks before meeting the missionaries. Gave the pipe away, dumped the brandy down the drain, got rid of the coffee maker. Other FHC staffers have similar conversion stories, and I’m convinced there’s a heavier connection between missionary work and family history/temple work than people think about. These people want their ordinances, and they’re not above pulling strings on the other side of the veil. But that’s another topic.
My uncle (the one who joined with my parents) once told me, the Lord is the Lord of the harvest, and He knows who’s ready to hear the message… it’s just our job to put it out there. We don’t have to worry about rejection. It’s not our job to convert people, just to TELL THEM about it, and the Lord will gather His people. That was very, very comforting.
It was actually easier for me to be a missionary when I lived outside of Utah. Living here in Utah, I feel like I’m being so overbearing to talk about the church since I wonder if they get so tired of all things Mormon. I’m more aware of my majority status and try to not make it burdensome, whereas in Michigan, it felt much easier to talk about my beliefs because no one had the foggiest idea who the Mormons were anyway.
Great story!
The thing about being a full-time missionary was that you had The Badge. You were expected to pester people about Jesus; people could see that coming a mile off. I think it’s much harder being a member missionary. So, good for you, Natalie!
Oh my gosh, you know John Stewart, Natalie??!!!??
I loved this post. I’m just going to put my cheek against the computer to bask in the glow of it a bit longer.
You are chock full of awesomeness, Nat!
[...] BUT FIRST: Frankie is getting baptized March 15. Just thought you’d like to be the first to know (besides the [...]
Thanks everyone, for your support!
[...] she done did it: My friend Frankie was baptized last night. It was a very joyous, dry-underwear-forgetting, Wal-Mart-visiting [...]