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.
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