A guest post by Tim Keller and Emily Wheeler, editors of The Work and the Stories: An Eclectic Collection of LDS Missionary Experiences (The Writer’s Cache).
The time: indeterminate. The place: the heart of Mormonism. The decision: whether or not to serve—to sacrifice eighteen to twenty-four months of life and pay for the privilege. The mission: to teach and serve and gather lost sheep into the flock. Oh, and the age at which this decision is generally made: eighteen.
Yet the foundation for making this decision has been in place for many years. Most if not all who read this have sung, “I hope they call me on a mission,” dozens if not hundreds of times. We’re born into a world of expectations.
Latter-day Saint missions are a unique religious and cultural requirement. Two years! And at the first taste of burgeoning independence. Many Latter-day Saints have complicated relationships with their missions. Some were pressured to serve, still others bribed.
Take the case of one of the most pious men we could hope to know. He only went on a mission because his dad promised him a car. On his return, his dad delivered with a sporty little Trans Am. What our friend didn’t count on was the lifetime of growth and other less tangible rewards he reaped as a consequence of his mission. Maybe the Trans Am was a good investment after all.
Tim was twelve the first time he was exposed to the mission dichotomy. Church in those days was an all day affair, and he hurried to the restroom before the last leg of Sunday: Sacrament meeting. Normally, this was his least favorite meeting, but that day promised to be one of the good ones. Instead of some dry high councilman, this meeting featured a missionary homecoming talk, which were always more relatable. Funny, poignant even.
Just as he was about to exit the restroom, he overheard the missionary in question loudly complain about how awful his mission was. Tim was scandalized. And also admittedly eager for this missionary’s talk. The young man took the stand to tearfully recount the amazing experiences he had on his mission. Having witnessed both versions, Tim doubts the missionary was lying in either. Missions can truly be “the best of times and the worst of times.”
We both have a fascination with missionary stories, perhaps because neither of us served traditional missions. Tim watched as, one by one, his high school friends caught religion and disappeared. All in all, his college experience turned out pretty lonely. Still, he felt good, perhaps even a little smug about his decision. Eventually, the friends returned, but different, more mature, more focused. Of course, Tim reasoned, he was, too. But their change was different. He thinks a lot about the road less traveled. His ecumenical destiny lay elsewhere, and no serious regrets. But the spark of curiosity remains.
Emily’s spinal cord injury disqualified her from a traditional missionary experience. She was a service missionary when she was pregnant with her first child, and while it was amusing to be honorably released for giving birth, it wasn’t the same type of transformative experience that proselyting missionaries experience.
This makes us, perhaps, an odd choice for editors of a collection of missionary stories, but we were anxious to dig deeper than the stories typically told at homecoming talks and understand what missions really mean to the men and women who serve them. To that end, we have compiled this multi-author collection of true mission stories (though some of the details have been changed to protect the innocent and, in a few cases, the guilty).
Where other mission story collections highlight the mission, the focus of this book is the missionary. They step into environments, cultures, and leadership situations that are wildly different. As are the personalities of the people serving: young men and women thrust into service with strangers. Separated from all they hold familiar. Isolated at times in some of the most remote corners of the globe. Other times it just feels that way, particularly given of the enormity of their task as bringers of the Holy Word.
The more stories we read, the more we came to understand that missionaries (and their families) often expect the best of times, from the gathering of lost sheep and outpourings of the Spirit to witnessing miracles. And these things often happen, but the worst of times catch them off guard as they combat homesickness, difficult companions, and questions about their faith.
The ideal is worth striving for amidst the challenges, but this collection is about the men and women engaged in the striving—their individual and unique experiences as missionaries and as people simply trying to do their best. For some, the experience comes as advertised. Still others are tested beyond their wildest imaginings.
We would like to express our thanks to the contributors, whom this collection is ultimately about:
Edmond Porter – “Special P-Day”
Tim Keller – “That Old Time Religion”
David S. Taylor – “Strange Bedfellows” and “Preamo!”
Jocelyn McDaniel – “Familia” and “Itacoatiara”
Neil Dabb – “The Covert Art of Missionary Work”
TJ Tarbet – “Idle Hands” and “There is no Fall in Mexico”
McKel Jensen – “The Magic Word”
Liz Kazandzhy – “Influence”
Mark E. Moody – “Field Work”
Doug Gibson – “The Tootsie Roll Pop”
Ed Christensen – “Flaws”
Tim Keller is an avid reader, who also has a weak spot for monster movies. He likes traveling, 80’s music, and if the highway patrol is to be believed, driving way too fast. A keen observer of human nature, Tim enjoys writing stories about all kinds of people from all walks of life. His work can be found in various journals and collections including Metamorphosis, In the Shimmering, Joyride, and the Helicon West Anthology.
Emily Wheeler is the author of over a dozen books of historical fiction and nonfiction, as well as numerous articles and short stories. She has worked as a writer and editor for children’s educational software programs and several award-winning anthologies.