& Then It Came...

The Big White Envelope

(brief prologues: this is the tale of how I actually opened my mission call.... a tale which may infuriate a select few. Which is why I'm hoping this is read by some people--such as my super-model-hot-babe-mom, who I dearly love to no end--AFTER I have left the country... This being said, I'm so sorry.)

I woke up on that Wednesday morning and began the finishing touches on my research paper for my writing class when the call came. After MONTHS of waiting!!! It came :}
I finished as much of my research paper as I could handle, got dressed, and sped walked to the post office like nobodies business! I had class in an hour and half but I couldn't wait another minute!
Now, the typical tradition is to assemble as many people as you can to the lobby of our dorm and open it with all your friends and family. People cheer and cry and clap. It's great. However, I knew that all that jazz wasn't for me. (Besides, what if I couldn't pronounce where I was going to go? In front of half the dorm is a horrible time for phonics to fail.) So my mom made me promise I would open it with her. (Here is where I would like to re-emphasize my deepest apology)... However. There is a drastic time difference between us that demanded I wait another 12 hours... well, about that.... remember how I said I couldn't wait another minute? It seems that I did wait at all.
I ran up to the Provo Temple with my envelope and my camera!!! I found the best bench. I prayed a ton. I put the envelope on my lap. I carefully pealed open the side (man I'm sneaky;) (AND ALSO SO SORRY!) and slide the booklet and remaining contains before me. I covered the paper with the call on it and stared at it for a solid eight minutes. This was it. I just had to read it. As I sat there a group of missionaries walked past. (Perfect timing, right?). "So where you going?" they cheerfully asked as they saw the trade mark booklet beneath my folded hands. I told them I was still building up the courage. They laughed at my odd response, wished me luck, and began walking away. "Wait! Don't go!" I said while desperately reaching out to them to stay. They laughed again and came back. It took a few moments of witty banter banter and encouragement until they told me to just do it. They even promised they would be there for me, even if it said Idaho. (Nothing against Idaho! Thought the irony would probably kill me.) Anyways. I did it. Here it goes...

Sister LaBanc,
You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in

California, Rancho Cucamonga

.... You should report to the Mexico MTC on Wednesday July 3, 2013. You will prepare to preach the gospel in the Spanish language.



For those of you who have opened your mission call or witnessed it, you understand the uncontainable joy! I jumped up, fist pumped a couple times, busted a few dance moves like a boss, and the four missionaries enthusiastically congratulated me. We awkwardly air hugged and fist pumped, it was great. The greatest :}
I bid farewell to my Russia bound missionary friends and spent a few more minutes soaking up every last bit of the greatest feeling ever.

 While soaking, a wonderful man from Ethiopia saw me sitting and smiling uncontrollably. He asked if he could take my picture and I figured I was by the temple, in modest clothes, holding my mission call; So despite him being a complete stranger it couldn't have been too sketchy. We got to talking and it turns out he was in Utah on business and was not a member of the church but was intrigued by the temple. Talk about an instant missionary moment! I gave him a brief explanation of temples as the house of the Lord and a place where sacred ordinances can be performed, one being eternal marriage between a man and a woman. I bore my testimony of the church and told him he could always contact the missionaries for more answers-- and with that I had to run back to campus to get to class!!

10 hours later....
after writing, physiology, New Testament, and a dance lab, ran home, called my mom on skype and re-opened my mission call... So what's better than opening your mission call? Opening it twice ;}
But no matter how many times I re-open it or think about it I always get the greatest feeling and know that it's exactly where I need to go.