Tag Archives: missions

I Hope They Don’t Call Him on a Mission

P and Elder N
Patrick with Elder Nielson, the first missionary he ever met, 1998.

In the greater Brisbane (Australia) city area, if there is a news report of a stabbing, armed robbery, police car chase or drug-related arrest, chances are it’s in the southern suburb of Logan. So, obviously, that’s where my sixteen year old son was called to serve for a week on his “mini-mission”.

Cue parental heart attack, anxieties and worry.

I dropped him off one Saturday morning to the missionary flat, where two elders came out to the car to help with his bike, his suitcase, backpack and groceries. A final “Bye Mum, love you” tossed over his shoulder and I was driving back home, an hour north of where I’d just abandoned my firstborn to the cruel uncaring world. The entire way home I was praying – pleading – with God to make sure Patrick would be well, and happy, and gain something positive out of his mini-mission (and not be mugged, or hurt, or…) Continue reading I Hope They Don’t Call Him on a Mission

My Life’s True Mission

AEE327F4-E3A4-46AA-86DD-A27E4D8122E1At twelve, I felt the first stirrings of destiny. What plan did God have for me, and how could I follow it? I took German and French, discovering I had a knack for languages. Maybe I’d serve a mission. Perhaps I’d become an ambassador, maybe even feed the hungry masses in India. I loved, loved, loved to read and write, so maybe I’d become a writer and uplift millions around the world with my lyrical prose. Perhaps the Lord could use my literary talents to spread the gospel, like the Osmonds used their music. And I would get married (to Donny Osmond, I secretly hoped) and have children, raise up future missionaries, maybe even a prophet. Surely I was destined for greatness. I would emblazon my name across the night sky, make my grand mark on the world. Continue reading My Life’s True Mission