My heart is full today.

This morning, an investigator asked me if I'm "a missionary for two years, like these guys," and I got to tell her no, I get to do this for the rest of my life if I so choose. I am pretty sure that response confused the crap out of her, but it totally made my day.

I would love to be a full-time missionary. I think that's pretty obvious to anyone who knows me at all.

Some of the best times of the past few years of my life have been while talking with and listening to people who've found themselves in a place where they need to learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

My understanding of the Atonement, my love for my Savior, my ability to feel compassion for strangers I never would have known had they not taken the time to listen to a Crazy Jesus Girl... all have been expanded beyond what I could have imagined.

Without ever wearing a nametag (well... with my own name on it), I've gotten to dedicate about as much of my time and effort as I can to doing the Lord's work. I've street contacted (poorly), tracted (awkwardly), taught gospel principles (with a whole lot of divine help), and I dearly hope I've in some small way been used to help someone on their journey to a closer relationship with their Father in Heaven.

If it had been 100% up to me, would I be serving a full-time mission right now? Well, of course. But am I happy that it wasn't up to me? Of course.

I'm never going to be called and set apart as a missionary, but that's no loss for me. I get to do "missionary work" every day. I'll never be released. The ways in which I go about serving my fellow man will change -- there's no way I'll get to spend so much time actively working with the missionaries in Utah! -- but there's no time limit on my ability to be "Sister Heather."

As a direct result of not being healthy enough to serve a mission, I've learned how to be a missionary wherever I go. I've created friendships that I've been promised will last throughout eternity. I've grown to love the scriptures and to rely more fully on Christ. My heart has been broken and then healed more perfectly than it could have been before.

Like always, God's plan is so much better than anything I could have come up with for myself.

What comes next? Not a clue.

After five (sort of six) years of college, I'm the proud owner of two undergraduate degrees. (Woohoo!) 

The rational question, and thus the one I get asked approximately 50 times a day, is "What are you doing next?" 

I wish I had an answer to that, I really do. 

Right now, I have a pretty cool part-time job doing GIS analysis -- AKA "what I majored in, like maps and stuff" -- for a small business here in Morgantown. I'm enjoying it, but it doesn't provide the income I need to justify staying here long-term... and truth be told, I feel like it's time for me to move on. 

Over the past year or so, I've felt pulled in a whole bunch of different directions. Washington. Arizona. Utah. A different part of Arizona. Philadelphia (please no). Utah then Arizona. 

Every time, I've obediently thrown myself into going where I think I need to go. (Even when it's Provo.) And every time, it's stopped feeling right. I am pretty familiar with that feeling. (See also, that time I almost served a mission.)

I've prayed. I've fasted. I've gotten about a dozen blessings. (Okay, not specifically for that, but still.) I've prayed some more. Nada. I know Heavenly Father is there and that He cares what happens to me, but He doesn't seem too driven to tell me where to spend the next X months of my life. 

Meanwhile, I've been sick. Like, lost-track-of-how-many-times-I've-been-in-the-ER sick. For a few months there, I worried that I wouldn't be healthy enough to do much of anything after college, but I've finally begun to feel better enough to consider a future beyond the walls of my bathroom or the hospital. The persistent IV bruise on my left forearm is healed up and everything. Hallelujah. 

So, between being sick and not getting any crystal clear personal revelation, I've had a tough time figuring out what it is that God would have me do, or even what I would have me do. I still don't know.

As of today, I'm cautiously pursuing the idea of moving to Utah for a few months and then maybe Tucson. I don't have any compelling or even interesting reasons. I know exactly 0 people who will be in Tucson, and not a whole lot more than that in Orem. All I know is that Morgantown isn't the place for me to live out the rest of my life, so I might as well go somewhere else and see what happens. Baby steps, I guess, like stepping into the fog. 

I don't love the fog, but I love what happens when I continue moving forward.