Let's Turn it Around for a Minute

Yesterday I got to have the rare experience as a missionary girlfriend to hear how my missionary took his Setting Apart. And The moment I heard the story, I felt an immediate sense of guilt. Now I'm sure this is perking a few ears from people who are either "waiter haters" or missionary girlfriends themselves. But the thing is, and I'll be honest here, I never heard my missionary tell me he wanted to go on a mission. Needed, yes. Felt the pressure, yes. But wanted? Never. In fact I had heard "I'm not ready," and "I don't want to go." more than once the day before he left. And when I heard from two separate people who were at his setting apart that he "didn't seem at all excited." I started feeling bothered. But when It was explained to me he almost purposely tried to miss his flight, outwardly told his friend he didn't want to leave, and all around just moped the entire night, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Because I sat there and only thought of one side. I ignored every sign of him not wanting to go and only supported the church pressure on him to leave on a mission. I even told him I wouldn't stay with him if he didn't serve a mission. Why? Because I sat there and thought he needed to go. But now I'm seeing the reality; that he didn't all out want to go. His heart wasn't in it. I sent this man off with a lot of extra pressure from me to be apart from not only his friends and I, but from his family for two entire years. And now that I have been thinking, that was wrong of me. Because, even though he said he 'needed' to go, I shouldn't have ever supported something that he didn't want to do. Something that will hurt him before it helps him. I followed a path that was wrong, and I'm understanding that, now, maybe, my wait will be one of deep thought and prayer on how to support him. Including sending him a letter I did today outlining the fact that I was here whether he stayed or came home, because I felt such a prompting to reassure him, it was almost frightening.

I think we need to remember that our some of these men don't want to be on missions, and we should support them in what they want. Because there are certain things that require love and compassion, and breaking a mold such as a mission is definitely one of them. If we don't support them, tell them that the Lord still loves them, then the life long pressure is sure to destroy them.

Let The Games Begin

So Derek is officially at the MTC. Good thing for me letters there from Dearelder.com to the Provo MTC are free, because I talk a lot, especially to him, and I plan on sending him a letter containing scriptures I picked out that I think are inspirational every day, along with an update from over here. Weather and that sort of thing. Funny enough, the weather here is so unpredictable that it actually warrants a conversation piece.

Anyway, right out of the gate I'm having some serious issues. I woke up last night screaming bloody murder because I was having a massive panic attack. Apparently, Derek was the only thing holding back this massive relapse. And the rest of the day I was shaking really badly because, as my doctor told me, my blood sugar is dangerously low, my heart rate (I have a heart condition) was and still is 95-103 bpm consistently and if I don't eat every few hours my body is liable to eat itself. I had told her I hadn't been feeling hungry and she told me it was some sort of issue where my brain isn't telling my body it needs food. All of this the day he leaves. And, really, I hope this medication helps because I'm not even worried about it, I'm more worried about not freaking talking to him all the time.

And for that along with my panic disorder my doctor is sending me to a psychiatrist. She plans on having me attend until Derek is finished with his mission because she doesn't know how the medication will effect my moods, including if it will make it more difficult for me to be without someone she insists was the only thing stopping the attacks. Truth be told guys, I think I'm scared. But I just can't seem to feel anything about it besides grief he's gone and irritation I have to eat so dang much. I'm going to try and update twice a week the entire time, and I will let you all know what my psychiatrist tells me.

Also! I have a new page! It's called "Getting in Contact with Me". I'm not sure if you guys can comment on this blog, so if you ever have anything to say, or if you have missionaries out there too and want someone to talk to, you can always get a hold of me from the two places linked there.

Until next time, have a great day!

This Is It

Today is the last day I will physically see or touch him for two years. It is surreal, like, he's actually doing this. Derek is leaving to serve the lord in Guam for two entire years. And because I think the Lord has decided I need more trials in this time, I have recently been thinking of my mother, and growing increasingly sad that I won't have her, or any family support save my grandmother and my sister for that matter, during this extremely difficult time in my life.

My mother isn't dead, but she has some major issues with herself and substances that has inhibited her way of life for a long time now. Since I was about eleven, she has been near constantly absent in my life. Until now, I have never felt such an empty, longing space in my heart for my mother's love and support. I never fathomed that I would commit to something so massive and completely unsure. It's just not who I am. I am obsessed with stability in all things in my life, because really of the things I went through as a child and teen. Now, I am alone in that aspect. I have no mother to call and cry to when I am missing my missionary. No one who will tell me daily that everything will be okay because she knows him and I. And that, in so many ways, is why I am scared of waiting for him.

But I will, mother or not, I will.

That's all for today ladies, sorry about the short post. You may get a second after he leaves.

Just a dash of pepper... And support.

So a few things today --

1:

 Derek leaves on Wednesday. The absolute most awesome thing about it? His mom outed to his family and I his estimated return date! Dec. 3 2014! Less than a week after his two year. Waiting is going to be so much easier having a deadline from the start.

2: [this is for all you girls out there debating about telling your mish you miss him]

I think it is important to stress in every letter that you are proud of his serving of the Lord. I've never read or seen anything that DOESN'T state that fact. But everything I have read also stresses not ever mentioning your state of being, like missing him, which seems like absolute bullpoopie to me.

Girls we are doing something that our Father in heaven has willed us to do. It is extremely difficult for us to be away from them because they are our prospective eternal companion. Much more so than their difficulty, because really they don't have the TIME to miss us. Lord willing.

So if you want to write "P.S. I miss you, your hugs, and your voice. And I love you more everyday." DO IT. It is just bad for you to think you are not allowed to write that. You feel pain just as anyone else. Despite what the pain will result in. As a missionary he is serving God. As a missionary he should be able to handle the fact that the woman waiting for him is missing him without veering off track.

Just... Don't expect him to always reciprocate your lovey dovey notes at the end of letters. Expect to hear spiritual stories and - if your missionary is anything like mine - crazy tales of the things him and his companion do on P-Days. Don't expect him to be the constant support you so desperately need. The Lord should come first to him. Then his family. Then you. Then friends.

You are a daughter of God, and he loves you, and he gives you a choice in all things. And he understands your need to love your missionary in all times, and in all he does, or else you wouldn't have found him. Just remember that free choice means you have to persevere to reap what you and your missionary have sewn.

Our Story

Be my knight in battered armor.

Be my one and true disguise. 

Hide me from both pain and beauty. 

Guard me from unholy demise. 

For in you I hold faith.

I hold hope, and I hold love. 

I hold the word of you in heart. 

My one, my true, my God.

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Ever have one of those days where you just really, really have no idea exactly how you write, or draw what you do? That's what that was. I looked at a picture of my friend in a suit of old, rustic knight's armor and that piece just spilled into my head and then onto this digital paper. I haven't written a poem for a while; long enough that I actually forgot the rhythm to iambic pentameter. (Not okay for me, I like thinking I know the basics of most poetry.) Then with that little glance my muse gland was like: bam! Have a topic to write about.

But seriously, awesome spiritually induced poetry aside, I'm having a really hard time dealing with the idea of Derek leaving soon. I've spent most nights praying and reading my scriptures until I finally feel more calm and manage to fall asleep. Because of this insomnia, I have been pondering a few things. One of them being the ability to overlook people you've met face-to-face. And because of this pondering, you all (assuming anyone is actually are out there) get to hear Derek and I's story:

Derek and I "met" about a year and a half ago through my ex boyfriend. My ex frequently hung out with a very small, select, group of people. None of whom I knew beforehand. One of them was Derek. More often than not, I would show up to my ex's house and would find out that we were going to be hanging out with all of these people here or there. After a month I noticed that we were consistently missing a person on Sundays: Derek. It took them all of "Well it's 'cause he's Mormon and-" for me to understand what was happening. After all, I was catholic, respectively, at the time and understood the sabbath day and the importance of keeping it holy.

That doesn't necessarily mean I did.

In fact, I had fallen so far away from Catholicism, that I viewed it more as an education form of study, rather than spiritual. I mean, I could tell you anything about the happenings of the catholic church, and a good lot of the history too, but I couldn't tell you of any revelations or guidance he had given me over the years. I had been having a really hard few years, and hearing of Derek's faith made me feel almost lacking in a part of myself. As if I was just walking around waiting for a blessing, without actually putting forth any effort to receive one. Really, it was just selfish.

Not too long later, Derek and I actually pulled off getting each other's cell phone numbers, and texted one another everyday. Nothing gushy or romantic; there was no sense of immediately falling in some sort of crazy, stupid love. Just that fresh feeling of getting to know a new friend personally, instead of socially. I remember the first day I was the one to invite him to hang out, he had been moving huge stones to make a pathway at his house with his dad the day before and insisted on taking a hot shower before coming to meet my ex (who I was still with at the time) and I. By the time he had left his house my ex had decided he didn't want to hang out and left suddenly. About 5 minutes later, Derek pulled in my driveway and, against my normal relationship standards of not being alone with another man, we hung out. I felt bad, he had drove 11 miles to meet us, and I didn't want to send him back because my ex was being hormonal.

This ended up causing a rift in my relationship. One that obliterated my ex's trust in me and ultimately began the waning of my feelings for him. And the escalation of the one's I began gaining for Derek. A month passed of hanging out with Derek, alone, because we kept having others cancel on us. And being two people who are not ones to miss solid plans we followed through. This chain of events had led to numerous arguments with my ex, and resolutely was the main reason I ended our relationship. That, and he was leaving for the military, I didn't want to be with a man who would be gone all the time. A few weeks later Derek and I attended a Halloween party together in our sort of mock-dating way. Next thing I know I get a picture message that reads: "I ended liking you more than I meant to." It was the most amazing picture I have ever seen. And I think somewhere between then and Christmas I was hooked.

And I have been ever since.

The reason I brought that story up is because of the first line. The one where I put met in quotations. Because Derek and I actually met in my sophomore year of high school, when I was 15. (I'll be twenty soon)We hung around the same people, sat at the same lunch table, and even played video games together, with a group of people, in the same room on a fairly regular basis. We even attended the same Junior High School. Derek and I actually spoke to each other too. But we never remembered each other. Not one of those times. So we say we "met" almost two years ago, but in reality it was almost five. And we agree with full confidence that we finally met for real after we had gone through the trials that the Lord had prepared for us. So that we were ready for one another. 

And I think there are many people with stories like that. Whether it be a friend or a lover, I wholly believe that the Lord chooses these very special people to undergo this amazing fruition so that they may have a sort of absolute understanding of the meaning behind their relationship. That they are not just a passerby in that person's life, but someone so absolutely special and linked to that person, that they first had to prepare.

An Explanation of Sorts

A widow's walk; also known as a "widow's watch" is a railed rooftop platform - often with a small enclosed cupola frequently found on 19th-century North American coastal houses. A popular romantic myth holds that the platform was used to observe vessels at sea. The name is said to come from the wives of mariners, who would watch for their spouses' return.

Now, because I'm a morbid person, I found a Widow's Walk to be a proper item of comparison to use in this blog: A blog documenting my wait for my missionary. All of my goals, successes, failures and everything else should be here.

Elder Derek Peterson is my missionary. A great man who really has been through a lot in his life and deserves as much as anyone to go on a mission. He leaves November 28th to Guam and is scheduled to have a regulatory 2 year mission, and I couldn't be more proud. Or sad. It's never an easy thing to say goodbye to someone you love, ask any spouse of a soldier. But, like the spouse of a soldier - minus the being a spouse part - I know he is worth the wait: Every single second. He will be out serving God and benefiting all those who could not hear his word in any other way. Not to mention, I need the time to prepare for being with him for the rest of forever. (deep breaths now...)

Elder Peterson the day he got his mission call.

It's basically impossible to get a good picture of him.

 

 As far as I'm concerned, waiting two years is nothing. And not dating? Piece of cake. I'm not much of a people person anyway. (This blog is more for me to vent than anything) I'm just hoping my Widow's Walk days aren't quite as... Fruitless, as the women's whose experiences coined the terms. I have a month before he leaves, and I hope you all are praying for us, and for Elder Peterson's success in his mission.

 

 

I'll make my best attempt to write again before he leaves.