Missionary Girl Photos

I'll admit it.  For the first 10 or 15 years of my marriage, my missionary dreams pretty much centered on my sons.  I have 3.  Whenever they would ask me if they could have a motorcycle or a monster truck, I would say, "Sure honey.  As soon as you get back from your mission and you save up enough money..."  That's just how it was.  It's not that I excluded my daughter, I just focused more on my sons.

Over the years that began to change...a little.  My youngest sister served a mission in Taiwan and was an amazing missionary! We sent her letters and packages and talked about her all the time.  My little girl began to say things like, "I might go on a mission like Aunt Heather..." and I was happy.

My little girl grew... she grew and she grew and she grew...until suddenly she was not my little girl anymore.  She went off to college, ever so studious and determined to succeed.  She mentioned a mission every now and then, especially after Nana (my mom) left on a mission to Houston, but she was only 18...and then 19...and in her second year at BYU. 

It was a warm Conference Saturday in sunny California.  The DVR was recording the morning session, but we were heading off to our youngest daughter's soccer game.  And we were running late.  As per usual.  My cell phone rang in my purse and I ignored it.  Then the house phone rang and I glanced at it on the way out the door.  It was (then) BYU girl calling.  "I'll call her back once I'm in the car," I thought, grabbing sunscreen, water bottles and a misting fan to cool off my fiery, red- headed soccer player.  By the time I got to the car, my husband had dutifully answered his cell phone and I heard this conversation:

"Are you guys watching conference?!" (Okay, no, but we're going to after soccer and yay! We have a kid that is...without us making her!)

"So you haven't heard the announcement! They changed the missionary age...girls can go when they're 19! I can go now. (Crying in Provo, crying in California)  I really feel like I'm supposed to go.  I want to go!"

Best. Phone. Call.  Ever!

And there you have it.  The first missionary from our little family is a Sister missionary! All those years dreaming of suits and ties, and I'm off finding skirts and fashionable, yet comfortable shoes!  No offense to my handsome sons, but after seeing these pictures, I know we sent the prettiest one off first!

 Thank you so much Julie for these gorgeous photos...especially after the fiasco that is our family...a story for another day post.  You did a wonderful job...and apparently I did too, 'cause this Missionary Girl is beautiful!