After waiting two and a half weeks, Wednesday rolled around (and by rolled around, I mean: took 8 billion years to get here!) The Bishop had told me my call had been assigned, so there was no doubt! My dear friend Stephanie's Mom is our mail lady, so she got my cell number and told me she would call me when it got here. I slept surprisingly well, anticipating my phone call in the wee hours of the morning. Well, 9 am rolled around and I still hadn't heard a single thing. I sent her a text asking if she had heard anything. She informed me that she wasn't working that day, but would call in and check. She reported that they hadn't seen it, and maybe it would come Thursday. Immediately, I went into denial, then panic. I had been counting down the hours for an entire week! I did not think I could possibly wait for one more day, or however much longer it would take. I sat on the floor and began to cry, not knowing how I could possibly focus in class (A little dramatic? Maybe. But probably not). I decided to pray. I told Heavenly Father that I knew things would work out somehow. I truly did not know how I could wait any longer, but I knew His timing was right and it would come when it was supposed to. If it didn't come that day, I pleaded for the strength and patience to wait. I then headed off to class (which just so happened to be mission prep, where we just so happened to sing Called to Serve...). With high hopes, I asked the Bishop to check when it had been sent, so I would know if I had to wait one more day, or a week. He replied that they had not yet marked it as sent, and it would be another week. I slowly came to terms with the situation, realizing that for some reason I needed this trial of faith and patience. Everyone was texting me, asking if it came and what time I was opening it. I held back the tears, with silent pleas that somehow I could just endure that day.
In the middle of my second class, I received a text from my mom. IT WAS A MIRACLE!!! My mission call came!!! No, they weren't pulling a prank on me. The substitute at the post office didn't know what to look for, and the mission application hadn't been updated. I wanted to jump up and scream with excitement!!! When I returned home, I immediately knelt down and thanked Heavenly Father for this little mission miracle.While I don't necessarily believe the hand of God picked up the enveloped from Salt Lake and stuck it in my mailbox, I am incredibly grateful for the comfort and peace He gave me. That day was a spiritual high, just knowing that He was aware of me and my needsThe next 8 hours were the longest of my life!! I cleaned the entire apartment, paced my room, and had butterflies so bad I thought I could throw up. But the time finally came. My dear family came (my brother couldn't come because the weather in Salt Lake was awful) as well as my old roommates, Oakcrest friends, and even the girls down the hall.
Opening an envelope has never been so hard before! With shaking hands, I could hardly believe it was real life!!! I covered it up, so I wouldn't accidentally read it. As I read "Sister Chesley" I immediately was overwhelmed with Spirit. Tears quickly came, and I read that I had indeed been called to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then I accidentally saw where I was called to... I thought I hid it so well, until I watched the video and realized I had gasped and covered my mouth. Real subtle, Bec. There it read, Sweden Stockholm mission!!! WHAT!?!?!?! I don't remember a single thing that happened after that. SWEDEN!? Why didn't I think of that?! Immediately, I KNEW that was where I was supposed to be called. It felt perfect the moment I read it.