Into Every Life Rain Must Fall . . . or, Lost in Paradox . . . or, Compelled to be Humble

After eight months in my stake's missionary prep program, I thought I was so prepared that I would take the mission field by storm.  My three weeks in the MTC seemed to reinforce my expectations as much of the teaching in class was on the first two discussions which I had already learned and taught in mock discussions.  While I tried to help the elders in my district, I think that I may have been a bit overbearing at times.  I once passed a note to my companion, as he was teaching, telling him to sit on the edge of his seat as I had been taught to do; never mind that because of his rather large girth this might not have been feasible for him.

While I was very confident about doing missionary work, I didn't have much confidence in anything else.  I could play the part well, I thought, but off stage I still had the same doubts about myself that I had in high school.  I tried to be outgoing in the MTC, to get a long with my companion, but things went badly wrong as I demonstrated my lack of social skill.  I said something terrible to a sister missionary, as an attempt at playful humor, because I just didn't have a clue.  But the biggest mistake I made was disagreeing with my companion in front of other people.

My companion was called after the first week to be an acting district leader for a new group of missionaries.  As his companion I went to the same meetings he went to, and knew what he knew.  When we met the new missionaries and he briefed them on what to expect, he said that their MTC district was named for the city which would be their first area in the mission field.  I didn't know where that came from, and suddenly shy, quiet Elder Cox burst out with “No it won't.”

This was an example of a curious paradox.  I was shy and quiet, and yet occasionally I would blurt something out -- I could point to several examples from my school days.  Now I had done it again, but this was worse because I had contradicted him in front of others, I had embarrassed him.  Later he confronted me and the only thing I could think to do was explain why he was wrong.  Still later he approached me to apologize, and by then I had realized what I had done, but though I should have been the one to apologize I suddenly could say nothing.  My companion then gave up on the companionship.
 

After the MTC I was no doubt even more reserved than usual when I arrived in my first area.  I wasn't outgoing at all, and my trainer had a big problem with that.  I was more than willing to work, in fact I was quite eager to do so, but I didn't say much outside of the door approaches I did when we were tracting – we didn't have anyone to teach, so he never had a chance to see me teach.  Then my trainer got sick and the work fell off.   To top it off, I allowed myself to feel intimidated by my trainer.

In one companionship inventory I asked if my quiet personality was a problem and my trainer went off on me.  He said that if I was quiet and didn’t talk to members that they would think I was not excited about the gospel and didn’t want to teach and therefore members wouldn’t want me to teach their friends.  But he was just getting started.  He said that if we didn't love ourselves we were sinning; he said that we were supposed to think that we were the greatest person in the world

He said that leaders had asked him how things were going and he would say that he didn't know because he didn't get any feedback from me.  He then said that his only good companion had been his trainer, that the three or four since had all been bad.  He said a lot of things -- I had to be this, this and this, period -- but this should give you an idea of what he was ranting about.

As I noted above, I was probably being even more reserved than usual because of what happened in the MTC, and I have to admit I didn't give detailed answers when he asked how I was doing those rare times we were out working.  I tried to say that I was doing the best I could, in the face of my trainer's charges against me but, honestly, I probably wasn't doing the best I could.  The simple reality was that I was not a talker, and I wasn't going to become one in the next few weeks.

I had issues, no doubt, but I strongly questioned much of what my trainer said. Specifically, the idea of thinking we were the greatest person in the world was a bit over the top. While we should love ourselves and have self confidence, he seemed to be taking it too far -- into the area of pride President Ezra Taft Benson would warn about in an upcoming General Conference talk. My trainer didn't have a very good attitude; as noted he felt most of his companions had been bad, and now he had problems with me.  Additionally, he was stuck in a very slow area; we didn't have anyone to teach because he had baptized the one person he had been teaching just before my arrival.

As for me, I think the Lord had decided I needed to be humbled.  Things didn't get better when, after two months, my trainer was transferred.  At first it seemed that my next companion and I would get along, but the slowness of our area quickly took its toll on him.  After a couple of weeks he suddenly discovered this need to "find" himself.  Of course, the best way to find yourself on a mission is to forget yourself and go to work.  At other times on my mission I was able to take full advantage of losing myself in the work, but while still in my first area my companion had other ideas.

The Lord, meanwhile, clearly had other things on the agenda than teaching and baptizing.  At the end of four months I finally had the opportunity to teach a full discussion, and the next week I got transferred. My second area would be better, but there were still challenges ahead.  Some companions are blessings, but others are trials.  Sometimes it is we ourselves that need to be taught and converted. Missions are not easy, but they get better or worse depending completely on our attitude  -- whatever we do, don't be a Wally complaining geek.

I should note here, however, that around Christmas time my trainer sent me a card in which he apologized and said that he had learned some things from our two months together and I would later tell him that I had been holding back.  While I was still in my first area, I sent a note to my MTC companion, finally apologizing for all I had done. Meanwhile, my "lost" companion would eventually find himself and finish his mission as an assistant to the mission president.  In the end I became friends with each of these companions.