I was never told it would be the “funnest” two years (although I do remember my mission being very fun). When people say it will be the “best” two years – I think they mean something along the lines of spiritual growth (although this isn’t the case many times). For those of you who didn’t have pleasant missions, I pray that you have blessing laid up for you in heaven for the work that you performed.

What I wasn’t prepared for were the less valiant lazy missionaries – it had never before occured to me that people would serve a mission and not “serve”.

While I certainly had some great experiences on my mission, it was a rough experience on all relevant levels. Based on some of the above comments, as well as more than a few friends who had similar experiences, I know I’m not alone. Overall, I’m glad I went and glad I served, but I’m more than a little happy that it’s over and done with. More germane to the post: looking back on it years later, I’m convinced that while the mission itself was hard to deal with, it was still much harder to deal with the total disconnect between what I’d been told about a mission and what I actually experienced as a missionary.

Maybe a large part of it was that I was raised by a family dominated by RM’s from South America who never could understand my European experience. For example, I could have done without the letters suggesting that my lack of success was attributable to my lack of faith, rather than the people who–let’s be honest–just didn’t care.

In any event, it seems like we generally talk about missions as we’d like to think they are (or should be), rather than how they actually (or at least usually) are, and as a result, I think we sometimes do a poor job of preparing missionaries for what a mission is actually going to be like. When things go south, the missionary then has ample reason to not just feel frustrated with the experience, but bitter with the program or even the church itself. I think a little more perspective in missionary prep classes would go a long way to ameliorating this type of problem.

I love this post. Some of the best conversations I’ve had are sharing old “war stories” with other RMs and with people who are just about to leave. I’ve had two brothers-in-law choose not to serve missions and it makes me sad to think of the things (good and bad) that they will miss out on.

I understand the pain on an intellectual level, but my mission (though hard) was a wonderful growth experience that didn’t scar or bruise me in any way that matters – death threat notwithstanding. Therefore, I am not hurting in the slightest at the thought of my son leaving this summer. I would hurt if he were not.

My wife, on the other hand, is dreading that moment when we say good-bye. She has not served a mission yet, so her emotions are fully motherly.

I remember a sister in our ward saying the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life was to send her two boys on missions. As a mother whose 2 boys went inactive and never went on missions I silently said to myself – “oh how I wish that that was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life.”

My wife felt the same way after we had buried two children in the space of eleven months, even more so after we buried the third within four and a half years of the first.

But, it is a social trope, and one that resonates. I don’t disrupt them for others.

It was difficult having my parents serve their missions. Kenya, Philippines, D.C. and Korea. There are times I needed them. Now they just need me. I’m glad I still need them.