Laborers in the Vineyard

My first thought when the announcement was made that young women could serve a mission at age 19 instead of age 21 was, "I could have gone."

Over the past few days, I've wondered if I in fact would have gone on a mission at age 19. I never really considered serving a mission because, well, I didn't think I would make it to age 21 without getting married.

But what about age 19? If I had had that to look forward to, perhaps my freshman and sophomore years would have been filled with less boy drama because I would have been a pre-mi. I could have said, "I'm going on a mission. We'll see after that," thus evading the awkward DTRs and flustered feelings which led me sometimes to do homework in the girls bathroom just to avoid dealing with guys. (Girls, don't do that. Nursing mothers need those couches more than you do.)

But then I look back to life when I was 19, and I don't know if I could have dared to go until Leslie's cancer was in remission, and by then another semester would have started and maybe I would have fallen for Kevin to the point that a mission wouldn't have happened at all.

And, as Kevin said, if I had gone on a mission, I wouldn't be done with school yet. That made me shudder. What has also weirded me out is that I'm not even old enough yet under last week's standards to be a sister RM til the end of the month. So if I had gone on a mission, my greatest accomplishments so far -- marriage to Kevin, giving birth to Joseph, my bachelor's and master's degrees -- couldn't have even happened yet. So when all is said and done, with my life where it is right now, I'm glad I didn't serve a mission.

That was the consensus other girls came to when I asked about it on Facebook. Some say they would have gone at that younger age, some say they wouldn't have, but all seemed to be happy that life worked out the way it did.

Anyway, this whole announcement has gotten me thinking about two ideas, both of which are related to Elder Holland's address, The Laborers in the Vineyard. The first idea is that timing matters a lot. I've come to the conclusion that  you are born in a specific year, even a specific month, for a very specific reason. (I wrote a big long tangent about how Joseph's birth affected our lives to prove my point, but I don't want to get too sidetracked right now. Maybe some other time.) There is a reason that the girls born in 1993 and 1994 are getting the chance to serve missions right now. And for those of us who were born earlier -- we can be grateful for the different set of opportunities we got. We can be grateful that we got to labor in the vineyard starting at 9 am rather than at the eleventh hour as in Christ's parable, even if we didn't get to go on a mission. As Elder Holland said last conference,

As the householder in the parable tells them (and I paraphrase only slightly): “My friends, I am not being unfair to you. You agreed on the wage for the day, a good wage. You were very happy to get the work, and I am very happy with the way you served. You are paid in full. Take your pay and enjoy the blessing. As for the others, surely I am free to do what I like with my own money.” Then this piercing question to anyone then or now who needs to hear it: “Why should you be jealous because I choose to be kind?"

The other idea I have gotten from this announcement is about the chance to repent. What of those who would have gone on a mission at age 19 and whose lives are bleaker because they didn't? I frequent a few forums where a lot of inactive members participate. They no longer believe most of the Church's precepts and find themselves at odds with many decisions such as the Church's support of Prop 8, their financial assistance with the City Creek mall, and the perceived gender inequality in the church. Yet they admit they were faithful and valiant especially from ages 16-18 and would have definitely gone on a mission at 19. Isn't it a bit unfair that they were denied (albeit by themselves) this wonderful opportunity that could have bolstered their faith simply because they were born too early?

There's no easy answer to that. But I was recently reading Mosiah 27, about Alma the Younger. He was one who was actively "seeking to destroy the church, and to lead astray the people of the Lord" (v. 10). He wasn't just grumbling on obscure little forums or making snarky comments on every Deseret News article about the Church. He was writing the deceptive "I'm a good Mormon even though I disagree with everything the prophets say" anti-Mormon blogs, making the anti pamphlets, and trying to convince people to leave the church his father loved so much.

And what happened to him? An angel came. He recognized his sins. He turned to Christ and repented. He turned his life around. He became a missionary (and arguably the best prophet in the whole Book of Mormon). He and the repentant sons of Mosiah were persecuted by those who they once agreed with.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you're one who once loved the Church but then fell away, and if Saturday's announcement reminded you of the excitement you once felt, don't be afraid or too proud to come back. The Church needs you, and you need the Church.

As Elder Holland said,

I do not know who in this vast audience today may need to hear the message of forgiveness inherent in this parable, but however late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.

Whether you are not yet of our faith or were with us once and have not remained, there is nothing in either case that you have done that cannot be undone. There is no problem which you cannot overcome. There is no dream that in the unfolding of time and eternity cannot yet be realized. Even if you feel you are the lost and last laborer of the eleventh hour, the Lord of the vineyard still stands beckoning. “Come boldly [to] the throne of grace,”³ and fall at the feet of the Holy One of Israel. Come and feast “without money and without price”⁴ at the table of the Lord.