What was Your Mission Like?

[Nolan]

Two months. How were your companions, normal?

So after learning to speak Dutch at the MTC you then picked up Norwegian in 8 weeks in the spare time you had when not speaking Dutch, to the point you were pretty good at it. That’s impressive. But also not true. Right?

No, but I thought I could. I believed in the gift of tongues. I tried. But like I said, this guy and I are still friends and I ended up taking some Norwegian classes in college when I got back. I’m nowhere near fluent.

Appreciate the gotcha attempt though, jeetje!

[malkie]

Home Teaching was a "forcing" issue for me. I was a more than average HT in terms of numbers, but was becoming more and more stressed by it.

After several years of inactivity in a small struggling branch where my wife was still an active and believing member, I felt sorry for the president and asked if there was any non-spiritual way I could help him. He knew both my state of disbelief and my breadth and depth of experience, so I hoped he might ask me to take on some purely admin stuff. Instead, he emailed me to ask if I would accept a HT assignment!

I replied that I would not, and explained why. Imagine a member asks me a question about almost anything. Do you want me to lie, or is it better if I tell them what I really believe? Needless to say, that ended the conversation. He knew I would not lie, and the alternative was not palatable.

I never served a mission, but I supported my son on his, including encouragement when things got tough.

Running this over in my mind, I think I've conflated some events, but I don't think I've done too much violence to the truth.

I'll forgive any accuracies, I suspect it is near enough to "facts" for the purpose of our discussion.

I don't envy your position. Probably not as upright as I should have been, but I was able to keep most of my disbelief buried until my wife was ready to call it as well (a story for another time but she, and really only she, knew where I stood). I was still serving in the EQ presidency the day we called it quits. Now I had intentionally opted for the more administrative duties when possible. It is a bit corny to type out but I've always derived a fair bit of enjoyment from the service elements of the work and so it was fairly easy to keep myself occupied. Some of that is directly related to having accommodating leaderships.

Given the kind of HT that was needed in our smaller branches I'm surprised your president wasn't more open to you serving anyway. 90% of my visits were much more welfare check than Sunday school lesson, but that may have been more of a regional thing. What a great disservice to the people in your branch that likely could have benefited from a kind face and a heartfelt visit.

Haha - yep - I'm the admin type too - ward clerk, or exec sec suited me just fine. A previous bishop had me as his exec sec for a couple of years, and avoided problems by not asking me to do anything with any "spiritual" content.

[MG 2.0]

So after learning to speak Dutch at the MTC you then picked up Norwegian in 8 weeks in the spare time you had when not speaking Dutch, to the point you were pretty good at it. That’s impressive. But also not true. Right?

No, but I thought I could. I believed in the gift of tongues. I tried. But like I said, this guy and I are still friends and I ended up taking some Norwegian classes in college when I got back. I’m nowhere near fluent.

Appreciate the gotcha attempt though, jeetje!

That's his MO. And it can be awfully draining.

Regards,
MG

[Morley]

Just teasing you a bit.

I'm interested in the good and the bad of your mission. Where in the Netherlands did you serve? What did you enjoy, other than learning to speak Dutch? Did you have any spiritual experiences? What support system did you have there and at home? Did you get to go to the Rijksmuseum? There's so much that you could tell that would be fascinating to folks here.

I remember Maastricht most vividly because I'm a sucker for great architecture, and honestly I felt like the people there were a lot nicer to us than the people in Amsterdam. I really struggled to feel the presence of the spirit due to constant stress and emotional exhaustion from horrible (and I do mean mostly horrible) companions. I remember praying and feeling nothing, but I pressed on. My family was well meaning, but brushed off my challenges as "testimony building." I didn't get to visit any museums, though I probably would have liked it.

I do have a deranged companion story for you if you'd like to read about it:

Elder "K" was quiet, didn't talk much, and when he did, his words were strangely staccato, as if he were reading them off a script. I initially thought he was just shy or homesick, but as the weeks went by, I began to see a different pattern emerge. He'd stand perfectly still in the middle of our living area, staring at the wall for minutes at a time, his hands clasped behind his back like he was in handcuffs or something. I ignored it.

Elder "K" became obsessed with a single, elderly Dutch woman. She was polite but firm, telling us repeatedly that she wasn't interested in our message. I wanted to move on, to knock on other doors. But Elder K refused. He would insist we walk past her house on every single route. Luckily nothing came of it, and eventually we did move on. But, as the kids say, WTF??

Your faith-altering experience, the one that changed your life forever, was one where, for a few months, you had a missionary companion who sometimes stared at the wall, spoke with a verbal tic, and was obsessed with converting a specific elderly Dutch woman. These things bothered you enough that you classify them as deranged. They caused you to abandon your testimony and sent you spiraling into a deep depression. They were the impetus for you to face the shame and trauma of a Church court and excommunication.

Am I getting this right?

But, as the kids say, WTF??

The kids? You're not that old.

[Black Moclips]

Spain Las Palmas mission, 1991 to 1993. Cool place to live for two years, a group of islands off the coast of Morocco owned by Spain. Saw the Olympic torch run behind me as I stopped at an ATM, and the 500 year recreation of Columbus's voyage stopped by the islands in 1992. Closest islands to Africa had awesome white sand desert beaches (Fuerteventura and Lanzarote), while the further islands were more tropical (Tenerife, La Palma).

From a mission perspective, I arrived during a changing of the guard. The old mission president had left a couple months before I arrived and was a "baptize anything with a pulse" kind of guy and the mission reflected that. Huge baptism numbers during his administration (mainly poor african immigrants at the docks who you never saw again), heavy inactivity, weak mission obedience to the rules, etc etc. The new president was a good guy, got people in line and obedient and focused on true conversion/quality versus numbers. So obviously, baptismal numbers plummeted. I mainly knocked doors all mission, as the members were not that strong to get referrals. Only ever invited in for discussions a handful of times in two years. Spaniards are lazy when in comes to religion in general, and being an island culture didn't help that. They weren't active in their own church (Catholic) so why get interested in another religion that makes you do a lot, lol. Basically a two year walk in the desert with a couple sips of water. Quite often us missionaries served as the branch president, or EQ leader or teachers as there were not enough qualified people for those roles.

Overall, a tough experience; however, even though I am not active and non believing now, I wouldn't change anything about having gone through the experience. Met a lot of interesting people and had tons of cool experiences.

[Gabriel]

I do have a deranged companion story for you if you'd like to read about it:

Elder "K" was quiet, didn't talk much, and when he did, his words were strangely staccato, as if he were reading them off a script. I initially thought he was just shy or homesick, but as the weeks went by, I began to see a different pattern emerge. He'd stand perfectly still in the middle of our living area, staring at the wall for minutes at a time, his hands clasped behind his back like he was in handcuffs or something. I ignored it.

Elder "K" became obsessed with a single, elderly Dutch woman. She was polite but firm, telling us repeatedly that she wasn't interested in our message. I wanted to move on, to knock on other doors. But Elder K refused. He would insist we walk past her house on every single route. Luckily nothing came of it, and eventually we did move on. But, as the kids say, WTF??

Your faith-altering experience, the one that changed your life forever, was one where, for a few months, you had a missionary companion who sometimes stared at the wall, spoke with a verbal tic, and was obsessed with converting a specific elderly Dutch woman. These things bothered you enough that you classify them as deranged. They caused you to abandon your testimony and sent you spiraling into a deep depression. They were the impetus for you to face the shame and trauma of a Church court and excommunication.

Am I getting this right?

Indeed, in his opening post, he all but confessed to wandering -- Lo! These many years! -- lonely as Cain, with nary a shoulder to cry on.

Hello. I’m new here, I came over from the ex-Mormon Reddit where I am just a lurker…

The rest was a string of shopworn tropes followed by presumptuous queries. And then we come to this gem:

You may have been better off having not served. My mission experience was the primary catalyst for my depression and faith crisis.

Is this true for anyone else?

Is this also true for his Norwegian companion, his friend since his mission, with whom he talks to this day? Have they spent all these twenty years just crying in their beer? Is there suicidal ideation? Do they have a plan? I'd like to think that during those long, bleak winter nights, they've contemplated jumping hand in hand off some high rocky cliff into an icy cold fjord below. -- it's the romantic in me! An Ingmar Bergman would have had a field day with those two! Alas, I suppose that it would be too much to ask of them. How selfish they are!

Nevertheless, I'm inclined to believe that there may be some truth to Nolan's story of Elder "K". Nolan could have exaggerated it if he wanted, but seems to have held back. Elder K's flat affect when speaking (as if reading from a script), his self-isolation, and his desire for regularity seem to me consistent with many persons diagnosed as living within the spectrum of autism.

[Nolan]

Is this also true for his Norwegian companion, his friend since his mission, with whom he talks to this day? Have they spent all these twenty years just crying in their beer? Is there suicidal ideation? Do they have a plan? I'd like to think that during those long, bleak winter nights, they've contemplated jumping hand in hand off some high rocky cliff into an icy cold fjord below. -- it's the romantic in me! An Ingmar Bergman would have had a field day with those two! Alas and alack, I suppose that it would be too much to ask of them. How selfish they are!

How poetic. Let me try:

Behold, what manner of poetry is this! Is it truly so strange a thing to remain in accord with a cherished companion of the mission? Lo, the internet maketh it exceedingly facile. For mine own understanding is that his experience on his mission was a different one—yet a good one—and to him I say, “More strength unto thee.”

Nevertheless, I'm inclined to believe that there may be some truth to Nolan's story of Elder "K". Nolan could have exaggerated it if he wanted, but seems to have held back. Elder K's flat affect when speaking (as if reading from a script), his self-isolation, and his desire for regularity seem to me consistent with many persons diagnosed within the spectrum of autism.

I’m so glad you added “nevertheless,” for I wouldn’t have been able to understand you had you written in an unpretentious manner. I don’t know what elder K was going through, but it made my life hell for the time we were together. I still hope he’s OK.

[Gabriel]

Is this also true for his Norwegian companion, his friend since his mission, with whom he talks to this day? Have they spent all these twenty years just crying in their beer? Is there suicidal ideation? Do they have a plan? I'd like to think that during those long, bleak winter nights, they've contemplated jumping hand in hand off some high rocky cliff into an icy cold fjord below. -- it's the romantic in me! An Ingmar Bergman would have had a field day with those two! Alas, I suppose that it would be too much to ask of them. How selfish they are!

How poetic. Let me try:

Behold, what manner of poetry is this! Is it truly so strange a thing to remain in accord with a cherished companion of the mission? Lo, the internet maketh it exceedingly facile. For mine own understanding is that his experience on his mission was a different one—yet a good one—and to him I say, “More strength unto thee.”

Nevertheless, I'm inclined to believe that there may be some truth to Nolan's story of Elder "K". Nolan could have exaggerated it if he wanted, but seems to have held back. Elder K's flat affect when speaking (as if reading from a script), his self-isolation, and his desire for regularity seem to me consistent with many persons diagnosed within the spectrum of autism.

I’m so glad you added “nevertheless,” for I wouldn’t have been able to understand you had you written in an unpretentious manner. I don’t know what elder K was going through, but it made my life hell for the time we were together. I still hope he’s OK.

You made no mention of your good companion in your opening post. You drug him out later as a Deus ex machina to try and salvage your contradicting story. And then edited other posts to fit your new narrative.

The people hated us, no one would talk to us, I had mentally challenged, even deranged companions, and my mission president did not give two s**** about us.

I served in Netherlands, and I absolutely hated it. But, learning a second language is rarely a negative thing, so that is the single silver lining.

[Nolan]

You made no mention of your good companion in your opening post. You drug him out later as a Deus ex machina to try and salvage your contradicting story. And then edited other posts to fit your new narrative.

The people hated us, no one would talk to us, I had mentally challenged, even deranged companions, and my mission president did not give two s**** about us.

I served in Netherlands, and I absolutely hated it. But, learning a second language is rarely a negative thing, so that is the single silver lining.

You are clearly so smart! Is that what you want to hear? Is that why you Google smart things to say and then put them in italics? Praise be unto thee, angel Gabriel, thou super-smart but overly pretentious wizard.

I don’t know whether you are aware, but I do not have to mention every event, every person, every place, every investigator, every meal, nor every time I took a crap in order for my story to be truthful. But go on with the deus ex monocle act.

How was your mission, by the way?

[Marcus]

Is this also true for his Norwegian companion, his friend since his mission, with whom he talks to this day? Have they spent all these twenty years just crying in their beer? Is there suicidal ideation? Do they have a plan? I'd like to think that during those long, bleak winter nights, they've contemplated jumping hand in hand off some high rocky cliff into an icy cold fjord below. -- it's the romantic in me! An Ingmar Bergman would have had a field day with those two! Alas and alack, I suppose that it would be too much to ask of them. How selfish they are!

How poetic. Let me try:

Behold, what manner of poetry is this! Is it truly so strange a thing to remain in accord with a cherished companion of the mission? Lo, the internet maketh it exceedingly facile. For mine own understanding is that his experience on his mission was a different one—yet a good one—and to him I say, “More strength unto thee.”

Nevertheless, I'm inclined to believe that there may be some truth to Nolan's story of Elder "K". Nolan could have exaggerated it if he wanted, but seems to have held back. Elder K's flat affect when speaking (as if reading from a script), his self-isolation, and his desire for regularity seem to me consistent with many persons diagnosed within the spectrum of autism.

I’m so glad you added “nevertheless,” for I wouldn’t have been able to understand you had you written in an unpretentious manner. I don’t know what elder K was going through, but it made my life hell for the time we were together. I still hope he’s OK.

Why would you need to "still hope" a friend is ok when you speak to him regularly? Couldn't you just ask him?

And how, after decades of a regular friendship, do you still not know what he was going through?

If he made your life hell while you were together as missionaries, he must do the same when you are together now as friends. Or is your relationship with him less real now?