Missionary Moments

I was reading cjane this morning and it made me cry. (Great! Puffy eyes added to the already glamorous look I have going.) Her post was about her nephew going into the MTC. As I went to leave a comment, I counted and realized that we have just nine months till Adam turns 19. Wow. Nine months, just like a pregnancy. Next December I will 'give birth' to a missionary. But, the pregnancy for this new child takes much longer than 9 months, it literally takes 19 years. I know that not all boys opt to go on missions, and that's ok. Having served one myself (Guy, too) I really want my sons to go. We have prayed and hoped and prayed some more that this would happen. Since they were very small we have talked about them going. Here's how many of our conversations went- "Mom, can I have a motorcycle someday?" "When you get home from your mission and move out, then you can." (I have a real problem with motorcycles, inherited from my mother.) "Mom, I want to join the military." "When you get home from your mission, that would be great." "How old do I have to be to drive?" (This is from Hunter.) "16." "How old do I have to be to get married?" "21. After your mission." They have their free agency and we will love them no matter what they decide. But, the fact that Adam talks about his mission almost daily warms my heart. And breaks it at the same time. When cjane talked about her sister-in-law telling her son to take some tylenol later if his tooth hurt (because she wouldn't be there to remind him) I knew how she felt, or I will know, just nine months from now. Some of our greatest blessings require the greatest sacrifice. That's the way it is and I wouldn't have it any other way. (There was a story about the MTC on KSL last night. They're doing a one hour special about it conference weekend. Can't wait!)