I was preparing my whole life for a mission. And everything I did in the Church was in some way a preparation for it. I had looked forward to the summer of 1980 as the time when I would be able to devote a large portion of my time to preparing even more. A mission loomed closer and closer for me. I was excited as well as terrified. I would be a representative of Jesus Christ, Himself. In June of that year I went on my first split with the full-time missionaries. I spent a morning with one of the full-time missionaries and his companion went with someone else. We went trackting in the Three Fountains East Apartments. The elder I was with was surprised at my poise at doing my first door approaches. I felt like telling him I’d only been practicing door approaches by myself since I was twelve.
(Picture: Our family and some of the first full-time missionaries assigned to Salt Lake. About the time when I was 14.)
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