The past couple weeks, I have been filling out my mission papers and getting ready to send them off to Salt Lake and receive my mission call. My whole life I've thought about how great it would be to serve my mission in the United States or another prosperous country with modern amenities that is not being ravaged by civil war or genocide. I didn't want to have to learn a language; I am more interested in getting to my assigned area and hitting the ground running without a language barrier acting like a brick wall on the track.
Most recently, I've dwelt upon how amazing it would be to serve in Great Britain, a place with rich history that I would love to experience and beautiful landscape I would love to see. I tried to get over my Captain Ahab-like obsession with England and prayed that no matter where I am called, I will serve to the best of my ability and love my mission all the same.
Last night, I finally felt that way. I had a dream in which I was a missionary listening to my companion teach a lesson in Spanish which I could not understand. We were in a dimly lit shabby room which I recall having a dirt floor. Throughout the lesson I kept repeating, "Yo se es verdad". This translate to "I know it's true".
What a comfort this dream was to me. Though I'm still not over the moon about learning a language or sleeping on a dirt floor, this dream was a small witness that God has a plan for me and I need to trust Him and I will be able to accomplish great thing on my mission. Whether I am called to London, Lima, or Lebanon, if I put my faith and trust in Him, I'll be just fine.