Adjustments in Missionary Roles - The Quiet RM Part 21
I was no longer a full-time missionary, and I couldn’t be happier knowing I wouldn’t have to knock on stranger’s doors all day. I did teach lessons with the sisters in my home stake, but I realized just how much of the mantle of missionary work had left me.
I have a testimony that being set apart is so important for callings. While I was a missionary, I recognized that although I was still recognizably quiet and still had a few panic attacks, overall I was able to handle a lot more than I could have on my own. There were days that would have devastated me completely (and there were definitely a few that almost sent me home), but overall I had a strength when it came to talking about the gospel.
The very first time I taught, however, I was terrified. I came into a home and was expected to help teach the first lesson, and my hands were sweaty and I couldn’t wait until I was out. I had such a hard time connecting to others, and I felt like a failure as a fresh RM who wanted nothing to do with teaching lessons.
Since coming to BYU I don’t have many experiences with the missionaries, but I realized that there is a different kind of missionary work that I could do. Especially here in Provo, it is very likely that everyone you meet is LDS (which still blows my mind sometimes). However, I have plenty of non-member friends back home, plenty of converts I could contact again, less-active members I can reach out to. We have “Re-connect nights” which encourages the use of social media to reach out to those we already know - not even with the expectation to teach a priniciple, but just to simply connect to those we haven’t talked to in a while, which often leads to missionary experiences.
If you are struggling to feel motivated when it comes to teaching formal lessons, you are not alone. Thankfully, we have been blessed with multiple resources so that we can stay in contact with others across the world to continue in the missionary spirit.
For me, one of the most challenging things about coming home was feeling like I needed to talk to everyone at once. Old friends, extended family, people from my mission, and on top of all that meeting new people in my single’s ward. It was almost crippling when I first got home, and is still something that stresses me out a ton.
I went in stages, responding to messages and comments on Facebook, skyping my high school friends, calling the members back in Arkansas. But because I was so burnt out by the end of my mission, the last thing I wanted to do was talk. I would have been fine if I was just alone for a month. (For those unfamiliar with my story, here’s the rest of the series.)
I was always told that coming home would be weird because you wouldn’t have someone with you at all times, but it was on of the things I really enjoyed. I didn’t have a room, though, so those moments were few. I suppose it was kinda weird when I was alone in the living room with my sister’s boyfriend, but I got over that pretty quick as well.
After what seemed like eons, I finally caught up with everyone. But that was the only point I felt relief, because my goal of contacting an individual every month was overwhelming, and then I kept putting it off. I have gone many months at a time without talking to my converts, and I feel so guilty, and when I finally reach out it always starts with “Sorry I’m so bad at keeping in contact.”
At this point, over 2 years since I’ve been home, I’ve pretty much accepted that I am bad at long-distance relationships. It’s been over a year that I have talked to most of the people from Arkansas, and some days it really gets me down.
However, last summer I visited Tennessee to see a member get married and sealed, during which time I realized my first convert from Arkansas had moved to that area. It was such a blessing to see her. I was worried because she was living with her boyfriend and smoking, and I thought for sure that it was my fault for not keeping in contact.
She caught me off guard when she said that one day she felt like she needed to prepare to go to the temple, and realized a couple of days later that one of her friends was engaged. “I am convinced that God gave me that prompting so that I could go to her wedding!” She talked about doing her grandmother’s work, and there was a light in her eyes.
She told me she was really trying to quit smoking again, as evidenced by her e-cigarette (in which she was able to reduce the nicotine in stages), and she was aware that she couldn’t be living with her boyfriend. she knew all of the right things and was making her way to the temple. She was the one to reach out to the sisters when she moved, something that I had rarely seen in that mission.
Basically, I learned that it is okay that I can’t catch up with everyone, even my converts. I know I should still try to reach out where possible, but I have a new faith that God is watching over them - I am not the only one concerned about them.
One of the most challenging things right when you get home is the loss of direction. Stuck without a job and waiting for five months for the next semester to start is a tricky place to be.
Trying to keep the missionary spirit while also not being an obnoxious RM, I tried to find good ways to spend my time, like going to institute and YSA activities. I was probably way too focused on dating, and by that I mean I was so terrified of the thought of it that I over analyzed my every encounter with a guy. (I eventually got over this, thankfully.)
Most of the time, however, I just felt empty. I tried editing some videos before returning to school so I wasn’t totally out of practice, and I was kind of obsessed with TED talks, convinced I was going to be a great, outgoing leader one day (that has yet to happen).
The one thing that I would advise RM’s to do is to find something that gives you purpose outside of going on splits with the local elders/sisters. try to find a job if you have enough time, try studying something, start a new hobby, something so that you aren’t left idle when all of your family is gone during the day. This not only guards from dangerous environments that could lead to addiction, but it is a sure way from feeling as empty. Filling the mission-shaped hole in your heart may take a while, but if you have a purpose, it makes the transition so much easier.