A friend of mine has been talking to me about blessings that come from a mission. She has a son on a mission, and has a friend who has two missionary sons. That friend has had nothing but problems, and my friend has had a lot of household things go wrong. She said that people at church were talking about how everything seems to go right for missionary families--more money, more blessings, etc. She wanted to tell them about all the problems, but refrained. So when everything seems to go wrong, how do you count your blessings?

I think there are spiritual blessings for us as a family, and we haven't had too many problems, but we're just getting into it, too. We had to repair the washer twice, within 2 months, but we bought that washer when my missionary was 1. I'm not looking for problems, and I also know trials and challenges come just with living, whether or not you have a missionary in the field.

But then there's that whole thing of does Heavenly Father send us trials, or are they just allowed to happen? I hear a lot of both opinions about that.

I really think a mission is where our boys grow into men, and without it, they will get there eventually, but it won't be the same. There is just a different depth to a person who has been on a mission, a deeper understanding of a lot of things--spiritual and temporal. You just don't ever get other opportunities to study the gospel like you do on a mission. When do you get to teach the gospel to someone who has been searching for something better in his life? It's so obvious when you see the light go on in their eyes, when the spirit hits and the understanding comes. It's an amazing feeling to be part of that, to know that Heavenly Father worked through you to help someone else.

When you get to see people in different parts of the world, even if it's only one state away, your world broadens. Your own understanding of life, people, and the goodness of God expands. When you eat in someone's home and know that they have given you the best they have, you are humbled and you reverence the person who gave their meal to you.

Our missionaries get to feel the spirit stronger on a mission than they ever will. They get to learn how to truly pray and ask for help, guidance, how to love, how to trust in the Lord. I'm not saying that none of these things will ever be gained by someone who didn't serve a mission, but it's just kind of a crash course instead of spreading it out over a lifetime. So please don't misunderstand me. I'm just so grateful for missions and missionaries.

As I think about the blessings of a mission another comes to mind. For me, it was also a blessing to be able to attend the temple at that time in my life. I was glad to have already been endowed and have already had that experience when I got married, so that time and that day was only about getting married. If I hadn't gone on a mission, I probably wouldn't have been endowed before getting married. I know some people don't see it like that or think it's a big deal, but I always felt that was a blessing for me to have been to the temple many times before my wedding.

A friend of mine who recently returned from being mission president commented to me the other day that he thinks sending out a missionary is the ultimate sacrifice. It is definitely much harder to be the parent of a missionary than to be a missionary. I was scared and wimpy, but also proud and excited to serve. I'd lived on my own for 4 years and knew I could do it, but I'd never been on a plane or been so far from home without being able to call my mom and dad or have some relatives close by. But this is much harder. Your children are everything and you'd do anything to protect them. I'm not there.

I think sometimes that email is not such a great thing. I love being able to "chat" with my son every Monday and know exactly (well, kind of) what he's doing and thinking, but then on the other hand, it makes me want to fix everything for him. And I know I can't. And shouldn't. If we as missionaries had problems and wrote home, our parents didn't even know about them until at least 3 weeks later, and then by the time their answer reached us, we'd solved the problem or didn't even remember what it was. We were truly on our own and had to grow up. I wonder if some of these missionaries aren't totally allowed to grow up because their moms and dads are too close because of email.

On the other hand, I think it's nuts that they don't get to email when there's a Conference or transfer day. Taylor was told by his Stake President to email once a week and they're making it so he can't! I think I've said this before, but when I'm in charge, I'll say the day after transfers or Conference or whatever, you get to a computer ASAP and write to your parents, just they know you are alive and okay. I don't even think it needs to be the full hour, just get there! Okay, I'll never be in charge, but that's what I'd do.

I sometimes wonder if my parents felt the same way about me and my missionary siblings. I had lived away longer than any of them, but was still their child. I don't see this getting easier. My other kids talk about when they will be missionaries and it's exciting to me, but also kills me just a little inside. They're my babies, every one of them. It's hard to know that they will be gone, grown up and strong individuals without me.

I have two boxes ready to go for Taylor's birthday. I can't believe I had that much stuff. I don't think I would have sent a second but Taylor asked specifically for marshmallows and graham crackers. So I'm going to spend $43 to mail them. How crazy is that? See, this is what I was talking about--am I letting him grow up? Or am I facilitating some crazy thing that will in the future be his downfall because he didn't have to do without something for a little while thereby not allowing him to completely mature in some weird aspect of society. Oh well, I guess I may never know. Until he has to see a psychiatrist and have association therapy proving my neglect of his precious little psyche. I'm sure that doesn't even make sense, but you get the point. (Obviously I don't know what I'm talking about. . .)

And on a nother subject, I had to take my sewing machine in for some repair. I wasn't getting a very good stitch and haven't for a few months. I'd clean, replace the thread and needle, it'd be okay for a little while, but then back to the icky stitch. So I finally broke down because Ken's pajama pants weren't looking very good. I didn't want them to fall apart while he was wearing them. Barbie wouldn't be very impressed, I'm sure. Even though I don't sew every day, I'm feeling lost and lonely without my machine. I've had it since 1982--yes, I know some of you weren't even born then, but I love that machine! When I graduated from high school I bought an Elna--hated it. Every time you wanted to do something, you had to change this little cam thing. Really, hated it. I learned to sew on a Bernina, so after I graduated from Ricks, I sold my Elna to my sister-in-law, who loves it and still uses it, and I bought my Bernina. It was the top of the line at the time, and I've loved it and never regretted the purchase. But now my baby is in the shop. I hope she comes back refreshed and ready to work!