Since I was a little girl, serving a mission was something I always wanted and hoped to do and now that I finally am it feels so completely surreal that I report to the MTC in just ten days. Our family moved to Colorado when I was nine and besides living in Rexburg while attending BYU-Idaho, I haven't been to visit many other places. I'm flying to Salt Lake from the Denver airport this Thursday so I can spend a few extra days in Utah with my aunt and uncle and my cousins.

Well -- back to the start -- so last summer I decided to start my mission papers. I met with the bishop and told him about my desire to serve a mission and that I felt like it was the right thing for me to do. I still remember walking out of his office and the complete feeling of happiness that I had knowing I would be able to start the application process that week; it was simpler than I expected it to be. I finished my mission papers within about two weeks but held on to them until November when I was allowed to submit them (You have to wait for ninety days before your availability date to submit your papers). A lot of things seemed to go wrong when it came time to submit them: things got lost between Colorado and Idaho, my stake president in Idaho needed surgery and couldn't meet with me to submit my papers for over a week, then I think they kind of got put aside on accident and weren't submitted until nearly December (the Sunday after Thanksgiving).

My mission call came on Thursday, December 10th. The moment when I opened the mail box is one that I'll always remember -- probably even more exciting than actually opening my call haha My bishop had told me the weekend before that my call was sent from Salt Lake on Friday and that it would probably come either Monday or Tuesday, so by Thursday, I had already checked the mailbox like 67894 times. On December 10th, I just remember waiting through my usual 11 to 3 lunch shift at work so I could run back to my apartment and check the mail. I had already run home too many times just to find a mailbox stacked with coupons and catalogs so I wasn't very fast about it, but I still had my mail key in one hand and my phone in the other (I kidnapped our apartment's mail key for the week ha).

BUT this time, I opened the box and saw the thin, white envelope curled against the inside of box 53. I was alone in the mail room but could have cared less if someone was there either way--jumping up and down and calling my roommates and just thinking about how in a few short hours I would know where I would spend eighteen months of my life. I waited until 6:15 that evening to open it. I had piles of homework to do but just didn't care and couldn't have focused on it if I wanted to. I sent a short text to practically everyone I knew in Rexburg inviting them to meet me in the MC building on campus when I would open the letter. It was great to have so many of my friends there and to know that they cared about making time to be there with me.