It may not be on the mountain height
Or over the stormy sea,
It may not be at the battle’s front
My Lord will have need of me.
But if, by a still, small voice he calls
To paths that I do not know,
I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I’ll go where you want me to go.

It has now been over two years since I was told that it would be best, for me, that I not serve a mission. And I don’t think anything could express more about how I feel than the lines of hymn above.

Before coming to Provo, I was extremely worried about how people would treat me. People here inevitably assume (to a certain level) something bad about those who have either chosen not to serve missions, are disqualified from mission service, or are honorably excused… (and I re-iterate, to a certain level). This fact can not be denied because I have even found that assumptions begin to pop into my mind when I come into contact others who have not served missions for one reason or another.

Truth is, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I was dreading it would be. And I have been dealing well with the entire issue as a whole for the entire year I’ve been here.

Looking back, I can’t believe it’s been two full years. I’ve learned a lot about myself in that time; and as time continues on, my gratitude for the unique experiences I have had only increases. It’s been rough, but strangely enough, worth it.

I’ll go where you want me to go.