If
you read through my journals from 2004-2007 you will see me flip back and forth
between serving a mission and feeling like maybe it’s not what the Lord wanted
for me. While I was on my exchange, I become bound and determined to be a
missionary, but during my time with my grandparents I served in the nursery and
felt like the Lord was preparing me for motherhood.
2007
was, well, a difficult year. I still carried a heavy heart for the loss of Grandad,
but I also stepped all the way into being an adult. I moved into a flat near the city to be closer to work. At first, three sisters lived in the flat
with me, but eventually two of them moved out. My job took me away for most of
the day, and for the few hours in the evening I was home, the remaining sister,
being fairly quiet and insular, didn’t talk to me much.
I
went to the YSA ward for a while, but most of the members didn’t speak English.
I made friends through institute with some girls who lived within my family
ward, so I switched and attended with them.
My
first job was pretty good. I liked the location in Chatswood as the office was literally
right above the train station, and Chatswood is a pretty neat place. However,
the office manager decided she didn’t like me. While the owner hired me and was
happy with my work, the manager watched me and waited for me to make mistakes. The team would go out drinking on Friday nights and I would respectfully decline joining
them. We were invited to stay at the Marriott for a night, and while I had
dinner with them and took a hotel tour, when we were free to do our own thing
so they decided to hit the clubs, I turned them down and retired to my hotel
room. I don’t think she liked that I didn’t want to get wasted and hook up with
randoms.
We
had an office mobile phone we took turns taking on the weekends. Once I had
finished training, my turn came up to take the phone. She pulled me into her office and told me I wouldn’t be allowed to go to church on Sunday in case
someone called. I explained that I would keep the phone with me, and I was less
than a five-minute drive from my church building so I would be able to take
care of any issues right away. She became firm and said if I wanted to keep my
job I would not go to church and risk leaving a client stranded.
I
left that meeting feeling confused and deflated. When I talked about
it with one of the other girls, she was confused as well. She said they often
went out drinking or clubbing while they had the phone and the manager knew
about it. She didn’t know why going to church would be a problem.
But,
it was. It got me fired.
In
hindsight, I should have taken it to court for unfair dismissal. Except, I was
young, it had been my first real job, and I just wanted to move on. I needed
another job fast to pay my rent and bills. Thankfully, the Lord was watching
over me and wouldn’t let my steadfastness cause me grief. Within two weeks I started
a new job. That was a great job that I enjoyed. The girls I worked with were
fun and friendly, and Bondi Junction was, like Chatswood, an awesome location.
I
served as a TFY leader during this time. After loving TFY as a youth four years
earlier, being a leader came as an easy choice. I had a wonderful time and made
new friends and strengthened other friendships. During this time, a guy started
showing an interest in me. It took me a little bit to notice, but when I did,
he took me out.
We
dated for a while, and it was nice. He was a nice guy, polite, had all the
checks in the boxes with being a returned missionary and coming from a good
family. We were dating during my transition between jobs, and during my move
out of the flat back home. In my journal I described him as being “all hot and
heavy and full on.” Somewhere in there, he just changed gears and I became
little more than an accessory. Whenever I would question him about ignoring me
or abandoning me at events he took me to, he would get frustrated and upset
with me. Eventually, he dumped me. In my journal, I explain that, “he said he
didn’t love me and I was too strong for him.” It broke my heart. I felt so
betrayed. However, looking back I can see it was for the best. I deserved
better than the way he was treating me with his hot and cold, and on and off demeanor.
It
took me a while to nurse my broken heart to heal. I remember once talking with
one of my netball coaches at our end of season party and she said that we all
have at least one heart break before finding the one who will never break our
heart. That has always stuck with me throughout the years, and my heartbreak
with this guy I believed was what she was talking about. On Sunday, 30th
September, 2007 I said, “Already I have realized one thing; this disaster of a
relationship I just went through is so I can appreciate the real thing more
fully when it comes along.”
However,
with a heavy and broken heart, and still in many ways grieving from Grandad’s
death, combined with the two hour each direction commute to work, life took a
heavy toll on me. I recall 2007 as a dark year. I was depressed a lot and
struggled often. Although I enjoyed my job in Bondi Junction, I needed a
change.
I
found a new job at a travel agency, which is where I wanted to work from the
beginning. I was excited to finally be a travel agent!
I
also sat the STAT test for university during this time. I had saved up a ton of
money after working most of the year. I had saved it for a mission because, after
the break up, I made up my mind to serve a mission. I was almost twenty-one, so
the age of sister missionaries at that time. One weekend, I was waiting at the
temple to meet up with some friends to drive up to Newcastle for a friend’s
birthday. There, I was wandering and praying for comfort and guidance. The
temple was closed that week for maintenance, so only the church office workers
were present, but in general, since it was Saturday, no one was around. I sat
on a bench and just prayed. My heart still hurt and I wanted direction. It was
then that I received the revelation not to serve a mission. It was clear
and specific. I needed to use the money I had saved to go to university and
begin studying to be a teacher. I had enough money to pay for two semesters of full-time
study with a few thousand dollars left over.
“So,
no mission?” I asked.
“No
mission,” He told me.
I
still have feelings of disappointment about not going all these years later,
but the direction was so clear I couldn’t deny it.
I
worked hard at my new job, but things started to get weird. The owner of the travel
agency had two offices, the main one in Merrylands, and the one I was hired to
work in by the Flemmington Markets. He kept calling and telling me I needed to
work at the main office. There were always four or five agents working there,
so I didn’t see why I was needed, especially since I did almost nothing
whenever I was at the office. The owner would sort of hover and talk to me and
made me generally uncomfortable. When I got into my university course, quitting
that job came easily.
And
so, another year passed. A hard year, probably my hardest year until 2019. Harder
than 2002 when my high school friends turned on me and persecuted me. What I
think made it so hard was that I went into it with a broken heart, and trials I
faced seemed to fracture my heart further. But the Lord has a purpose to
everything, and I learned how to be resilient and come back from dark places no
matter what. I learned even more how to trust God, and I discovered that my
personal revelations can be remarkably clear. I wouldn’t be serving a mission
because the Lord had another plan for me. Trials are lessons, and like any
classroom, some are much harder than others. But with perseverance and quite a
lot of faith, I knew I could get through anything.
