Perhaps before this life we made promises to each other. Perhaps I made a promise to Jesus Christ that I would do whatever it took as a mother to help my children learn to serve Him. And perhaps my children promised Him they would help their brothers and sisters all over the world no matter what. If only we could remember.
You can probably guess I've been somewhat teary-eyed these past few days as I think about my 7 children. I am so proud of each of them and the choices they have made! Let me share a bit about sending my sons on missions.
My eldest son, Joshua, was called to serve in the Mongolia Ulaanbaatar mission. Sending my first to such a far off land was not easy, but I trusted my Father in Heaven completely. Whenever I worried about him I would get on my knees and pray. It was comforting to know that I was praying to the same Heavenly Father that my son could pray to if he needed help.
My gentle giant, Jacob, went to the Bolivia Cochabama mission. Because of political unrest, the missionaries were moved to the Peru Lima South mission. The term "political unrest" does not settle well with a mother's heart, so again, I leaned heavily on my Father in Heaven to keep him safe. Eventually the missionaries returned to Bolivia where he finished his mission.
My youngest son, Joseph, served in the Stockholm Sweden mission. I was happy when he received his call two years ago, because he would be in a more civilized country, but for a time he lived in the cold dark north near the Arctic Circle where the sun hardly shines. Later he lived in the south near the beautiful lands of his ancestors.
No matter where my sons have served, my children have served where God needed them. The numbers of baptisms does not matter. The positions of leadership does not matter. What matters most, is that they served for the right reasons.
In a few weeks, my daughter will receive her mission call to someplace unknown. However, I trust my Heavenly Father because He knows her heart and whose lives she can touch.