Undone

It makes me tingle with annoyance when church members dismiss Isaiah. Call me odd, but Isaiah is my favorite scriptural author.

It does not seem to me inconsequential that my mission president counseled me using Isaiac verse during our first interview upon arrival in Oklahoma.

Please understand that the first hours and days of in-field service are crazy. Painful. Scary. Frankly overwhelming. I didn't know what to do with myself on the plane or in the mission home. I described my apprehensions (as professionally and un-emotionally as possible) to President Taylor, and this is what he said.

When Isaiah was first beckoned to do the Lord's work, his response was sheer despair. "I am undone!" he cried (2 Ne 16:5).

On the evening of December 18th as a brand new missionary, I could relate.

Three verses later, his response takes on a courageous bent. Now he says, "Here am I; send me" (verse 8). This latter reaction is the one that I had anticipated of myself while I was in the MTC. Before my mission, I was sure that I would be a "here am I; send me" sort of missionary. How could I, Sister Jenny Stewart, be anything else? It's easy to imagine such things before the day of sacrifice. But faced with doors to knock, members to meet, strangers to talk to, lessons to teach...my vision failed. I floundered. That first night in Oklahoma, sitting in the warmth of the mission home, I knew that I was undone.

What brought Isaiah from "undone" to "send me?" Metaphorically, an angel took a piece of coal from the temple altar and placed it on his lips. Please understand that this was a symbol of the application of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

It is only through the Atonement that we can move from a state of undoneness to a faithful "here am I" stance.

This is true. It is only through the Atonement of Jesus Christ that I find strength for the work. Every day is hard. The wind in Oklahoma is bitter when temperatures drop. People can be mean. Appointments drop like flies on a hot day. You might spend hours on the phone trying to find members to attend teaching appointments, and still you might fail. Some days you'll get teary-eyed every time you think about your nieces and nephews back home. But the Atonement of Jesus Christ covers it all.

I don't just teach about the doctrine of Christ; I believe it. It is the ennabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ that makes me love this messy, hard work. Perhaps a mission is the perfect place to learn about the Atonement because the work is completely impossible without it.

In truth, I am grateful. Grateful for a divinely-tailored trainer. Sister Goodfellow studied anthropology and visited Jerusalem; she gets me like few people do. She is also compassionate, diligent, and a powerful teacher.

I'm grateful for unbelievably generous members. They feed us dinner every night, and every night I come away in awe at the faith of our members.

I'm grateful for Oklahomans. "Salt of the earth," everyone said. It's true. I love praying with Baptists on the doorstep. I love their really kind rejections. I even sort of love our incredibly stubborn less-actives and their silly reasons for not coming back to church.

I'm grateful for Christmas packages of an angelic nature (thank you!!!) and a cozy apartment (albeit infested with roaches) and lots of time to study and learn and become something more than I am. I am grateful to be a missionary.

Dear God, here am I; send me!