Where Did You Serve? - Page

Fukuoka, Japan 1998-1990

(here's a little bonus contribution)

my mission

Two long years. . .
Staring at the calendar, my mind races.
What will they bring me?
Heat, cold, rain. . . and frowning faces?
Yes--this and more.
There’ll be smiles, and peace, and exquisite joy
I assure myself;
A wonderful experience for a 19-year boy.

With my perspective set straight I determined to be
The kind of missionary the Lord wanted of me.

The mtc sure was a surprise.
The pressure was great, and the blessings, too;
I was amazed at the things we were able to do
In those two quick months. My how time flies!!

After all that training
I thought I could do anything!
With my mind full of vision
I headed for my mission.

I wish I could say the transition was easy;
But my head spun so much, I was a little queasy.
New language, new food, new culture, new ways.
At times my ‘new vision’ was clouded with haze.

But as usual the trials were overshadowed with joy;
For the Lord had His eyes upon this poor little boy.
I was cheered on to victory through goods times and bad
From the scriptures, my president, and letters from Dad.

my mission did something quite special for me:
It showed me how to truly be free.
How to keep on going when nearly beat
And how to stand on my own two feet.

It also taught me to rely on the Lord--
To rejoice in His sacrifice, which I greatly adored.
I learned what it meant to get down on my knees
And to beg from my heart, “Oh Lord, help me please. ”

For myself, my mission was a wonderful thing.
Memories of it cause my whole heart to sing.
But greater than this is the joy it brought
To the souls of those whom the gospel was taught.

When I looked in the eyes of those dressed up in white
I could see that they knew what they were doing was right.
That this life has a purpose, and the God of Love
Was smiling on them from the heavens above.

I find joy in the thought that no power can rend
The bond that I had with my new Eternal Friend.

Undoubtedly my mission was no piece of cake.
If I said that I’d be counted a fake.
At times of great pressure my eyes would see red;
A man even told me he wanted me dead.
I rode on a bike as I watched the rain pour;
And for twenty-two months, I slept on the floor.

So what do I think as I look at the past,
And measure my mission from first to the last?
Just the memories of it make my eyes wetter
For surely nothing in my life could have been better.

Missionaries are blessed from every which way.
They have the guidance of the Spirit day by day.
They learn of humility, of faith, and of hope--
And how to keep on smiling at the end of one’s rope.

Some memories of my mission that I have made
Will perhaps, with time, start to slowly fade.
But when the joy is measured against times of strife,
It is clear that these were the best years of my life.

--Todd Galbraith

(written during the last weeks of my mission in Fukuoka, Japan – 1990)