Why am I Rushing?

Share

I don’t like crisis mode. We’re a few weeks away from the start of term, and most of the professors won’t even be on campus until the 17th. I have things waiting on them, because I can’t plan ahead without schedules and I don’t even know if classes scheduled will run. So, my life gets put into crisis mode where I rush to get things done and don’t know why.

A few months back, I got a ticket for being in a rush to get to work. This comes because for some reason we have a “time clock” at work in academia, and I don’t personally like to be late. However, it was a wakeup call in many ways. I don’t want to have to afford to rush when I’m late and being late doesn’t really cost me anything.

If I’m late, what are the actual consequences? If they audit my time cards, they’ll find I do more than 40 hours on average per week for 40 hours of pay. If they look at a SINGLE DAY, I might be 11 minutes late, but I stay late or cut lunch short to compensate. And nobody else seems to care if they are late or absent or AWOL. So why do I? And why should I take the risk?

We take a lot of risks in rushing. A rush job usually has flaws. They say that you can have it done quickly or correctly, but not both, and there always seems to be time to do it over but never time to do it correctly in the first place. If you rush, you miss opportunities. If you are always late and always in a rush, sometimes you leave things behind. When we rush, we put effort into the means instead of into the outcome, and we miss the mark.

Rushing implies two major flaws. We are either doing things grudgingly that we don’t want to do that we have procrastinated but must achieve or that we don’t respect other people and their plans when we arrive late. I have never understood the arrogance of a doctor who will fine me if I arrive late for an appointment when I have never been taken on time except at the dentist. And I know people could arrive on time if they really wanted to. Other things matter more, and so they are late.

I decided that Gandalf was right and to model myself after him. A wizard is never late nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to. The simple solution to this is to leave extra time and leave early. That way, if something happens, you can respond. When I travel, I try to get to the airport more than two hours early in case something happens enroute. Why don’t I try that everywhere?

On days when complications arise, I will just take it as it comes. I will get there when I get there. There is no reason to rush if I’m just going to end up getting to my funeral early or having to sign over my bonus to the court. If you rush a miracle, you get rotten miracles. If you rush a baking job, you get incompletely cooked food. If you rush an order, sometimes things get left out or sent to the wrong place. We would do well to slow down a little and take stock of what is really urgent AND important in our lives and prioritize those things.

Work matters. Work is not the only thing that matters. And since I have a policy at work and at church that acknowledges imperfections, what is the point of rushing? I can make up the work later at work, and where I fall short in my Faith, I can appeal to Christ for mercy and have Him compensate where I made mistakes. We are in too big of a hurry I think. We are under an immense burden of pressure to achieve, succeed and prosper. We are not asked to consider the opportunity cost of unexpected consequences from rushing things that are only made whole when they happen in their season. I’ll still get my work done; and I’ll get to keep the entire paycheck now too.

Inspiring Them With Truth

Share

The Church has announced a new mural in the Missionary Training Center (MTC) intended to inspire sister missionaries with the first single women to serve missions. However, this mural is a lie. Although based on photos, it is an image that has been fabricated by the church. The pictures used of the missionaries are different from how the two women look, and there are no pictures of the scene depicted. It is art. Most art is rooted in lies.

The MTC used to have different murals, murals that depicted actual missionaries because they were super enlargements of actual photos. I know, because my father made them for the church. He didn’t know what the church did with them until I served my mission, and the MTC director allowed him to go see them all where they hung in the main building before they left after dropping off my brother two years later (something they would never allow today). When the MTC was remodeled, those pictures were removed and disappeared. They were of men, and so I suspect they were not sufficient to validate 18YO single women who decided to serve missions.

  

(me beside one of the murals my father did, outside the MTC cafeteria)

If you want to inspire young women to serve missions, you could use real people and real pictures. I served with a woman named Sister Rabald. I believe she was from Romania. She was there when I arrived, and she came back to serve a SECOND mission before I came home. I know because I picked up a missionary to train when she returned as a “greenie” and I remember feeling bad for her “trainer”. Sister Rabald was a widow and a convert, and she decided, in her retirement years, to serve the Lord as long as possible as a proselyting missionary. I don’t know how many missions she served, but I have pictures of her.

(Sister Rabald is seated at rear, Vienna, first mission tour)

(Sister Rabald, center, back row Vienna second mission tour)

You can inspire anyone you like. You should inspire them with truth. Elder Paul H Dunn was released as a general authority in part for taking credit for other people’s life stories as his own (like Gilderoy Lockheart). This mural they made just inside the entrance is a reimagining of true events and real people. The scene maybe never happened and the women in the scene didn’t look like they do in the mural. By the church’s own admission, this “was designed and created by the Church using models and photography of buildings, boats, streets and water in Liverpool, England, to create a scene”. Well, you sure created a scene. Models and photography are not factual. Will the young sister missionaries be able to discern this? Is this any better than AI? How are we expecting them to be taken as messengers of truth when we inspire them with half truths and whole lies?

I take no exception with Inez Knight and Jennie Brimhall. I didn’t know who they were until today. I am grateful for their zeal and service. I think we do them greater honor when we report their story in truth. Otherwise, any Faustian imagery is simply an attempt to cheat the devil and there is no virtue in using the adversary’s methods to achieve the Father’s goals. We don’t need a painting. We could create a mural or rather a mosaic using pictures of real single sister missionaries like Sister Rabald who inspired me. I remember that she respected me because she never heard me speak English in Vienna, unlike other American missionaries in “leadership” positions. She didn’t speak English, so I felt it was rude to speak in front of her in a language she could not understand.

We do honor to women most when we honor them with truth. We do honor to God most when we honor HIM with truth. Once upon a time, the art in the MTC was photos. Now it’s half truths and whole lies.

World Cup 2026 and Happy Birthday to the USA

Share

As the world cup in 2026 plays out, it plays out in a strange way for the United States. I don't think that a World Cup has ever been hosted in three separate nations before, and it is highlighting the host nations in ways I don't think anyone anticipated.

Fans are surprised by how bad Canada is. For all my life, I remember hearing that Canada was the "kinder, friendlier, superior version of the United States". Fan reactions don't seem to corroborate those feelings, at least not anymore.

Fans are surprised at how welcoming Mexico is. Leading up to the games, there was cartel violence in Mexico, but Mexico City has pulled out all the stops to renovate an old stadium and welcome visitors to their country. Even Americans.

Fans are surprised at how awesome America is. I've traveled extensively in Europe and the Caribbean since 2018, and I can tell you that international sentiment about America is not laudatory. However, fans seem to be loving America, particularly Texas despite the heat, and it is heartwarming to see so many people coming here and happy with their experience.

The world cup visitors are one of the best presents America could get for it's 250th Birthday, which is actually technically today. Although we celebrate on the 4th, the Declaration of Independence was actually ratified on July 2nd. So, it is a great blessing to America and Americans to have so many of our brothers from other mothers excited to be here and having a marvelous time here.

It wasn't a trick or a trap or a Trump endeavor. FIFA did this. And I'm 100% sure it was accidental.

People are glad to come to America, and they always have been. Foreign sentiment of late has many people believing that we are "a nation in decline". Foreign news had some people convinced they were going to be gunned down by an American. Instead, fans are loving our food, our stores, our landscape, and our freedoms, and I think we may see a change in attitudes about America and Americans as a result of the world cup, which means that no matter how well our team does, it will be a win for America. Sure, people will still detest our government (just like many Americans do), but they are seeing as we all know that Americans are not all represented by whomever controls Congress or resides in the White House.

So, happy Independence Day. Happy 250th Birthday to America. Go fly Old Glory, and long may she wave o'er the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

Good luck to our FIFA team.

Father’s Day and Divorce

Share

Growing up, the only real item on my bucket list was to be a dad, not just any dad, but like my dad. So, imagine my state of distress when I got divorced about 20 years ago and had no children. Every lesson at church, every aspiration, much encouragement from family all seemed to center around starting a family and raising children, children that it now looks like I will never have. It’s not for lack of trying. I was married, and I have proposed to three other women since then. Most of you didn’t know that until today.

Divorce shatters many things. It shatters illusions. It shatters expectations. It shatters confidence. It shatters hope. It shatters faith. For so many people who go into relationships with integrity and good intentions, it’s one of the greatest forms of betrayal. You kneel across an altar from someone who promises before God and witnesses to love you no matter what. They promise you the moon and then, for some reason, they give you the boot instead.

So my life shifted, and my life drifted. In the aftermath, it cost me so much money, that I initially had trouble eking out an existence. In the aftermath, since I was in graduate school at the time, it truncated opportunities and compromised others. In the aftermath, I found that women were unwilling to “risk” anything on me because I had a “failed” marriage; few bothered to find out why it failed. Eventually I ended up in academia because it was the only place I could find work, and I stayed because economic recessions made it unwise to leave and ultimately, I was unqualified to go anywhere else.

One thing didn’t change. I kept my faith and hope somehow, not just when I got divorced but also when my proposals were rejected. Despite the fact that there was no safety net in my Faith for men who get divorced, I continued to attend church and do what I could. At first, because of my marital status, they were reticent to ask me to do ANYTHING until I moved to Henderson and my uncle was made my bishop. He knew me and knew that I was more than the things that happened to me. That faith and trust bred other options later as I moved and Bishops saw that I had held callings, ultimately leading to my service a few years ago in a bishopric. I started holding “family home evening” in 2015 despite the fact that my only family was a dog. One bishop in Summerlin remarked how remarkable it was to see me sing hymns without a hymnbook and attend each week despite the fact that nobody would notice or be impressed or shame me if I didn’t come. He told me he knew that’s how I had a testimony because otherwise I would have found a reason to quit church and eventually to quit Christ.

I wrestled a lot with feelings of remorse, inadequacy and failure. Women didn’t want to be with a “failure”, and I didn’t like that I had "failed". I have trouble seeing any of my knowledge, skills and abilities as anything spectacular, so I don’t really act like I have a lot to offer. I know that in general we’re all equivalently if not equally endowed with gifts from God, and so mine might be different, but they are not superior. What ultimately got me to think differently was when my dog got cancer and fought to stay alive for as long as he could. If he was willing to put up with the pain and the bleeding, then there must be something wonderful enough about me to justify that.

That watershed moment opened my eyes to Christ too. He also fought to stay alive and put up with pain and bleeding for ME. My dog was a reminder that my Father God had neither forsaken nor forgotten me. “ Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.” Isaiah 49:16

I still don’t really feel like I have much to show or much about which to brag. My life is largely unspectacular except to a happy few students who express gratitude each semester. Since they never talk to me again unless they need a letter of recommendation, I don’t really trust their affirmations. However, I think back on the love of my dog and how he reflected the love of my God and realize that he was the best reflection of how God feels about me of which a dog is capable. So, I must have something to offer, even if my wife and other potential candidates for marriage chose to see other things in me.

My life looks vastly different from where I thought it would go and prepared for it to go. I have been single for many years. I haven’t even been on a date for over a decade. I am employed but not appreciated, needed but not desired, utilized but not included, and acknowledged but not chosen by nearly all the women I know. However, there are dogs on the various routes where I jog each morning who try to talk to me, who come to the fence so I can pet them, and who are excited to see me. So maybe one day there will be a God who welcomes me back, even if I walk alone. People may not choose me, but I know that Christ chose to bleed for my sins and rise from the dead so that He could lift me up. And that’s why I thank my Father God.

Clue and the Victim Card

Share

I had a thought the other day that I wanted to document for when people start stealing it. I was talking about lessons learned from the game "Clue".

There are lots of cards in the game. You have room cards, weapon cards, and suspect cards. There is no victim card, so stop trying to play it.

Falcons and Mockingbirds as a Microcosm for Men

Share

In spring of 2018 a mockingbird started attacking me as I came into work. He was protecting his nest in a tree near the door to my building. Despite the fact that I watched for him and defended myself, even during quarantine when almost nobody else was here, he continued to attack each spring. Eventually I took an alternative route in spring. This week I came in through that entrance because I was bringing things with me and it’s closer to the elevator and was shocked to not be attacked. When I mentioned it in the department office, one of the other professors told me that a few weeks ago a falcon had found the nest and killed and eaten the birds. I’m kind of sad, because it’s the end of an era and will never again be part of my morning routine at work. It is however also the circle of life.

Nature isn’t evil, and evil isn’t necessarily in our nature. As humans we sometimes ascribe negative denotations to people for things that are natural. However, in our dog eat dog world, if it comes down to a question of your survival or mine, you must confess that you would try to fight to survive. It is the nature of all living things to want to survive and reproduce. Most parents will steal or fight to feed their children or in some cases to feed themselves. So some crime isn’t because we are evil but because we are trying to survive. In fact that’s the narrative sometimes when the news decides to defend indigence.

Falcons are not evil because they kill mockingbirds. Most animals are omnivores, which means they can eat plants and animals. In order to survive, we must eat other living things, or at least parts of them. I don’t eat the entire plant, but I do harvest and enjoy tomatoes. I don’t eat the entire plant, but I do harvest and enjoy apples. You can also eat parts of some animals like lobsters and crabs and they will grow back and survive. Unfortunately for falcons, they are birds of prey and therefore eat only other birds. Falcons cannot survive on nuts or berries. Sure they could eat pigeons, but the mockingbirds were pretty aggressive, and an intelligent hunter would be eventually able to locate and attack the nest. And he did.

It is not evil to want to survive. Yes, the way we win matters, but we are also animals at the end of the day. Survival matters more. Soldiers kill other soldiers. Anteaters kill ants. Not even fungi confine themselves strictly to the already dead as a food source. The cherry I just popped into my mouth had cells that were still alive. Since it didn’t scream as I disemboweled it, we feel less churned about it than we would watching a falcon rip a bird apart, and because it doesn’t have a face, we cannot watch the emotion as others in the bowl watch us eat their friends and family. My coworker heard the screams of the other mockingbird as the falcon killed its mate and watched the falcon rip up the other bird. It bothered her. It would be wrong to condemn the falcon for killing these mockingbirds. This is what falcons do to survive.

It is also sometimes wrong to condemn our fellow men for their trespasses. While some crime is personal, some of it is also circumstantial. The law makes room for this with terms like differentiating murder from manslaughter. Both are heinous. One is worse. We do not know what moves a man to trespass against another. If he is starving or hallucinating, if he feels oppressed or depressed, if he feels like he has no other option, we respond differently. A soldier stealing for plunder is treated differently than one who steals because he is starving or because he needs paper for his house of easement. We are taught as Christians not to judge on outward appearances because only the Lord can see the heart, and that’s where He looks. The why of our actions also matters in addition to the what.

All tragedy is sad. I am sad because those birds lost their lives. I will actually miss being bombarded by them. However, I cannot pick and choose which prey the falcon eats. Just because it doesn’t just eat birds I don’t know and don’t like doesn’t mean I can hate on the falcon. It exists to control the population of other birds. There are natural checks and balances on life. He wasn’t doing it to spoil a memory or my day or destroy a family. Falcons have children to feed too. It is more sad when people do things they don’t need to do that hurt other people. And it is saddest when we are venom on people without trying first to ascertain their motives. In this way we could learn a lesson from the falcon and not think with the same bird brain. God after all endowed us with reason and for good reason. Come now and let us reason together saith the Lord and though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as snow. For with what judgement we judge we shall be judged, and sometimes men are not evil. Sometimes they are falcons.

The General Problem With Polls, Surveys and Social Sciences

Share

During my undergraduate program, I had to take Probability and Statistics. As part of our course, we had to create a project, collect data, analyze it, and present. We decided to poll students and look for correlations between parts of the student body and the results we found. Unfortunately, the data showed ZERO correlation between the answers and any group in any way we identified them. With trepidation, we presented this to our instructor who much to our surprise clapped and congratulated us for not trying to find correlation in the data set when none existed.

People like to find meaning and feel like their work matters. Most of the students who passed through this instructor’s classroom had gone to great lengths in order to demonstrate that their data corroborated their preconceived notions, which is precisely the problem. All too often, people are not looking for the truth; they hope the truth will corroborate what they already happen to believe.

They achieve this by messing with the sampling, which takes several forms. Firstly, you can manipulate the data set that you sample and sample only those data sets that are likely to corroborate the claim. Secondly, you can manipulate the data you include to bias the outcome to the one you prefer. Finally, you can manipulate the data’s appearance so that it shows what you want it to say.

You see this all the time when you look at polls, surveys, and anything that comes out of social science. A good person will report the sampling, and inevitably there is bias in whom they ask. You have probably never responded to a poll, but you see them all the time when they claim that “A majority of Americans feel a certain way” but you don’t know anyone in your circle who agrees with the claim of the survey. You must ask yourself whom they decided to ask. Did they go looking for people they expected to answer a certain way? We all have biases. Do the researchers admit their sampling might be biased?

Unfortunately, you see this in classical fields of scientific endeavors as well. For example, the climate stations that collect temperature and rainfall information may not be in the best locations. There is one for example alongside a major highway in Las Vegas close to a red light, which might overreport smog or pollution depending on how many cars are idling there at the light. There is another in a low spot just west of the University of Nevada, Reno which overreports dew because the fog will sit in the basin and overreport precipitation or the rate thereof. Even research science can be biased. Not everything is easy to secure funding to investigate, and even if the scientists are above board sometimes the people that work for them are either unskilled or unaware enough that they omit data or overreport it. If you’re looking for desert tortoises, unless you tag them as you find them how can you be sure you didn’t double count them?

Much of data is full of lies, damn lies, and statistics. Even the journal “Nature” which is a top tier peer reviewed journal for scientific research admits that it knows that there is bias in science. If medical studies are flawed, you can bet your bottom dollar that other polls, surveys, and research endeavors are flawed, faked, or even fraudulent. People who believe that their political party is above board but that the other party is all liars need a reality check. People are people, and anyone can lie. About what we lie, how frequently and to whom is what determines or should determine the veracity of our claims. Everyone has a track record.

So how do you tell? You follow the money. Find out who paid for it. Anyone who claims to be objective is probably a liar. The funding source is key to determining the objectivity of the data. If a winery pays for a study on the health effects of regularly drinking red wine, it’s probably neither correlated nor causal. If a textbook manufacturer funds a study on physical textbooks being superior to online learning, it’s probably a self-licking ice cream cone. Look at the sample sizes, the location of the study, and their statistics. ANOVA tells you things that the pollsters want to keep hidden.

And if they base their claims on outliers, just run. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle criticized this in “A Study in Scarlett” where he warned against forming theories before you collect facts lest you bend facts to fit theories. And that is exactly the problem.

My Favorite Disney Princesses That You Don’t Know Are

Share

While watching another movie a few weeks back, I started wondering about one of the actresses whom I didn’t recognize. Based on the billing and the fact that she had an academy award, I knew I was supposed to know who she was, but I didn’t. So, as a good professor, I did some homework and discovered a little bit about this woman ultimately discovering that she is a Disney Princess that you don’t know is one.

Enter “Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion”. It’s a campy buddy comedy essentially that highlights the friendship between two girls who really were friends in the context of a high school reunion. In looking into this actress and her filmology, I learned that this film was a product of Buena Vista Pictures Distribution  This company is a division of the Walt Disney Company, a division that made apparently many of their non animated films in the 1990s. Essentially, this means that, since 1997, Lisa Kudrow and Mira Sorvino are Disney princesses.

I know that you’re probably not thinking of characters from a Rated R movie as Disney Princesses and that these two particular choices are not what jumps to mind when you think of characters at Disney Land. However, they were chosen and highlighted by the Walt Disney Corporation to headline a story about two girls who have each other’s backs, who overcome obstacles, and who remain true against the villainy of their peers for more than a decade from high school and beyond. That sounds Disneyesque to me.

In a time when Disney has acquired other studios and added other women to their list of princesses, Kudrow and Sorvino are the OG of Disney Princesses. Sure, they lie outside the animated list that usually races to the front of recollection, but they are qualified in every way. It is possible that, owing to the movie’s rating, the executives hid this movie under their other studio umbrella so that those who thought only of the obviously family friendly animation studio would not come at them with pitch forks threatening to "kill the beast".

The movie isn’t terribly great as far as movies go, but the story is relatable and a "tale as old as time". High school is tough for many people. We all appreciate true friends. We think about those who we hope will be with us in thick and thin and help us make a satisfying life. That’s what these two women do in this movie, and that is why I think they count as Disney Princesses. It’s easy to think about Ariel or Belle or Snow White, but if you think about other non animated films, the moral of this story is consistent with the Disney brand. "Be true to your friends. Think well of those you claim to love. Stay true to who you are. Have hope in your future. Don’t change to please the jury."  And it turns out happily ever after for everyone except for the prom king and queen who ended up with the worst outcome at the reunion, which is probably something we all were secretly hoping.

I don’t really know a lot about Mira Sorvino. I realized in doing research that I have seen her father in a crapton of movies, and I enjoyed his work. So far, I have only seen Mira in two films.  However, I think she’s my new answer to “Who’s your favorite Disney princess?” because people will not expect that answer and I think creative answers to that question that are not “Princess Leia” are what this world needs. Bring back the Disney of the 1990s. Be creative, and make something of your life that you like.

And Mira, if you see this, which I doubt, I hope you have a Romy and Michelle day.

Charles III is no Charlemagne

Share

Apparently King Charles boasted that if not for the British, we'd all be speaking French, so I thought I would respond.

First off, I do speak French. I took French in High School. The options were French or Spanish, and to not have to compete with the Cuban kids who spoke Spanish at home, I opted for French so as to be on an even playing field with my classmates. Ironically, I speak French quite often. It is probably the most useful travel language given the vast array of exposure of the French worldwide. You can use it in Africa, the Caribbean, and Asia, since France had colonies there. I even had a student from Rwanda this semester who thought it was hilarious to have secret conversations with me in French since nobody else understood us. I have been to France four times; I have friends who live there. I suppose then the British failed me, because I speak French.

Secondly, the English used to also speak French. After the Norman invasion, it was a hallmark of the victor because only the Norman conquerors spoke French. THe Saxons did not. So it was an easy way to delineate the conquered from the conquerors. It took many years for me to understand how they knew Saxon from Norman in movies like "Robin Hood". It was simple. Only the Normans spoke French. So, it's a miracle that the English don't still speak French themselves.

Thirdly, if not for the United States, the British might speak German. Perhaps it's lost on them, but we did help them defeat Germany twice in world wars.

I don't understand the spite and the sauce. When I went to Normandy in 2023, the French don't seem nearly so pissy about linguistics or Americans. IN fact, they offered me free things in gratitude for liberating them from Nazi Germany, as if somehow I was personally responsible for their freedom (my grandfathers fought in the Pacific). If King Charles wants to show some class, he could start by showing some gratitude rather than just giving us lip.  Maybe we can all learn something from the French besides just their language.

Serving the Lord As Disciples

Share

Growing up, it was never a question in my mind that I would serve a mission. The prophet made it clear that every worthy young man should serve, and my parents led the way and set the example. I know that by the age of 10 I had a bank in my dresser divided into three compartments: tithing, mission and spending. Half of every dollar I earned went into my mission fund. My parents even paid my allowance in dimes to make it easier for me to assign monies to the various compartments.

Consequently, I never really felt I needed to pray to go. I quietly went about living as if the question was already decided. I attended early morning seminary faithfully. I have fond memories of being in class at the chapel while my father slept in the foyer waiting to take me to school on his way to work after I finished. Although back then the age of service was 21, I went to university and continued to save 50% of what I earned, which was now invested, and attended institute. By the time I received my mission call, with help from my parents in home study, from church religion classes, and my own determination, I had read the Book of Mormon cover to cover seven times and the entire Bible twice. My bishop refused to ordain me an elder until I had my mission call, so I did the sacrament in my student ward at university, since I was not eligible to serve in anything requiring the Melchizedek priesthood.

I received my mission call about three weeks before my 21st birthday but did not report for many weeks after that. After my first year at university, I chose to receive my endowments in St George (to be different from everyone else) and went to the MTC on 1 July. It was a stuffy environment, but I gave myself to study in the now absent buildings in our basement classroom and in my dorm as instructed while some of my district mates talked of home and sports and women and their futures. I had “put aside all other wordly concerns to focus on serving the lord” as instructed.

My maternal grandfather was upset when my mother told him that they didn’t need him to pay towards my mission. He wanted the blessings. But when my mother informed him that I was paying half of my own mission, he put aside his pride and shifted to being pleased with me. While serving my mission, the $9000 I had saved up for my mission was replenished by investment success and when I returned home, despite having paid half of my mission myself, my investments were still worth $9000.

However, I served what by the metrics measured by men would be an unremarkable mission. I served in nine different areas with 14 companions in the 22 months I spent in country. Although I trained three times, none of the missionaries I trained were trainers. Although I taught people who later made covenants with the Lord and joined His restored church, I never baptized anyone. The mission in which I served was closed, divided up and merged into other missions. The church sold the mission home. I came home feeling like a failure.

Years later, on a trip through Europe, I visited one of the congregations in which I had only briefly served. None of the members remembered me. Some who might have were dead. They knew I had been there because of people I knew and what the ward had been called when I served there, and they were very warm and welcoming, but it was clear that I had done nothing to stand out in their minds.

I spoke with my second of three mission presidents at his home east of Foothill Drive in Sugarhouse, UT who clued me in to two things I didn’t know. First, he told me that I was the most prepared missionary he had ever seen and second that he felt when I first arrived in country that I was there for the missionaries more than for the members. I worked very hard. They saw me do it. They did not see my prayers for them on their behalf or the things that I did.

It took me many years to realize that the Lord had sent me there because there were things for me to do there that nobody else could do as well as I. It took many years to see that the Lord had done things to me that could only be done there. It took many years to see that I didn’t need to see the gospel change lives because I already knew it had changed mine. I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and the people I met and with whom I served, whether they liked me or not, could not deny that I was truly “recommended as one worthy”.

Even headed home, I didn’t quit. I spoke to people on the plane and didn’t stop until I exited the jetway in the Salt Lake City airport where I was met by my family. One of the Swiss Elders with whom I spent my last day in country thanked me for helping him keep working until the last minute trying to bring people to Christ. We didn’t find anyone who welcomed us, but we were late to the mission home because I was determined to do all I could until I couldn’t actually do any more.

For many people, a mission changes them. For me, it solidified to everyone who I was and what I really valued. I already believed in God; I saw His hand in my life. I already tried to follow God; I saw the chance to be His hands, His voice, His eyes, and His servant as I reached out to those kept from the truth because they knew not where to find it. There was no voice, no shaking earth, no wondrous light or even a rebirth, only a sign that showed that I truly desired to be one of His disciples and had disciplined myself to be such. The denials and rejections and disappointments didn’t deter me. They proved that I was who I claimed to be.

Over the years, I have told stories about the strange and outlier experiences I endured as a missionary. Some leaders worry that my stories will deter others from going. But the real moral to the story is also something the aforementioned mission president said to me: “Your success is that you continue in the absence of success”. And I still do to this day. I’m still here. No baptisms, no wife, no children, no worldly success, and I am still there teaching the gospel in Sunday School to those who are willing to listen.

All too often, we define our discipleship based on outcomes, and all too often that’s inaccurate because the outcomes involve the agency of others. In the end, every part of our life, success or struggle, happiness or sadness, victory or sin, is an invitation to grow closer to God. Maybe for Him it was never about the ends that we think it was about but for the process through which we go as we experience life. And if as a consequence we draw nearer to God, in better AND in worse, maybe He considers that a win. We can either break down or we can break through.