Post your LDS Mission Regrets

[_zzyzx]

-" My Bishop and ward leaders harped on me constantly, beating me with guilty lies about how I would be held accountable for all of the souls that were not "saved" by my "not being there"."

I bet Steve Young, Dallin Oaks and Donnie Osmond cry themselves to sleep many nights worrying about this. They are proof that failure to serve a mission will ruin your life.

[_Inconceivable]

I bet Steve Young, Dallin Oaks and Donnie Osmond cry themselves to sleep many nights worrying about this. They are proof that failure to serve a mission will ruin your life.

Spencer Kimball told Donnie Osmond that he would do more good as an entertainer, so he wasn't called. As I recall, he actually wanted to do the clone on a bike thing (like I did).

[_krose]

1. Spending two years in a beautiful country with an amazing history and culture, and not being able to really experience it and learn about it. I did learn the language well, but there was so much more I could have learned and places I could have seen.

2. Strict obedience to pointless rules. I would have had a better time (assuming I would do it at all, given a second chance) if I had loosened up and not been so strict and cautious, or felt so guilty all the time.

3. Oh, and not being able to date any of those gorgeous girls that flirted with us.

[_Ray A]

I regret not having an Australian companion. Imagine having to put up with 16 American companions over two years.

Something tells me it's time for bed. Long night.

[_JohnStuartMill]

I didn't go on a mission, but had plans to do so that screwed me over. I brushed off the flirtations of a perfect 10 because a) she wasn't Mormon, and b) I was planning to leave in a few months anyway.

Stupid, stupid.

[_Calculus Crusader]

Thankfully, I realized Mormonism is a fraud in my 19th year and so was spared perpetuating the fraud as well as the kooky endowment ceremony.

[_Always Thinking]

I just wish that I had finished school instead of going on a mission. I know, I know, you CAN do both, lol. But after my mission I got married and never finished. Or, if not that, I wish that a mission really was focused on making the world a better place. An ex boyfriend of mine (Catholic) finished college and then went to Chile for two years and worked in an orphanage. No proselyting, just service.

[_Jonah]

I went....and then walked out of the MTC five weeks later. I had the good fortune to utter a few choice words to the MTC Prez and a G.A. upon my exit.

Regrets?? Not now except it would be nice to be able to speak better Spanish. Back then.....hmmmmmmm?? I would have to say that at the time instead of having regrets I had bouts of wishing I had never been born.

Though nearly 33 years ago it seems like yesterday I was walking through the airport terminal towards my father who was waiting for me upon my return. There was no comforting loving hug, no "How are you doing?", just a quick handshake and a greeting of "You look good. I can't say I am glad to see you." The 30-minute ride home was hell as he screamed at me the entire time. I was at his mercy. With little money and no place to go I was dependent on my parents. So I just sat there silently and took it.

Upon reaching home, the house was eerily dark and quiet. Everyone had retreated to the safety of their own rooms behind closed doors. I did as well, crawling under the blankets of my bed in hopes that the nightmare would end. I awoke the next morning before anyone else so I slipped out of the house and jogged to the beach. I returned home in the afternoon and went straight to my room. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door....it was my sister. For a brief moment I thought that perhaps I would be able to enjoy a sibling bond of love and compassion. Not so. Instead I was treated to a sobbing scolding of “How could you do this to our family? How can we go to church and face the other members of the ward? Blah, blah, blah.” I slowly closed the door. My own mother couldn’t face me either for another few days...and once she did, she had to tearfully turn away.

My room had become my cave. I dared not venture out. Word must have spread through the ward about my return. When my best friend found out he sped to my house, honked his car horn, and screamed my name until I bolted out of my room, out the front door, dove into his car, and he sped off. He saved me. He fed me (I had not eaten in a few days), he listened to me, and he gave me the unconditional love and support that my own flesh and blood couldn’t offer. I had baptized him a year prior, he came to my aid when I needed someone the most, and 25 years later he would also help me leave the church.

I met frequently with the Stake President and my Bishop. They had hopes of me returning to my mission. I even considered it....briefly. The Bishop cornered me one day after church. He had given me a check for $400 from the ward before I had left for “plane tickets”. He told me he wanted the money back. I told him I would get back to him. He never asked again. Since I had no transportation, I applied that money towards the purchase of a motorcycle.

Life as I had known it would never be the same.

[_Ray A]

Jonah, that was an interesting story. At least you had the guts to do what perhaps 50% of missionaries think of doing at some stage (I certainly did), but only stay to "honour family", ward or friends. It's your life, not theirs.

I sometimes had these dreams of packing my bags, calling a taxi and heading to Adelaide airport in the middle of the night, so I could buy a ticket and head back to Sydney on the first plane in the morning (some did).

The most powerful motivating factor in me staying was my then girlfriend, who was also on a mission. We exchanged letters weekly (long letters), and my thinking was if I abandoned the mission we would break up and she would marry an RM (how deluded can you get? Worrying about such things, that is). All of those letters now lie in some ash heap. Weird how life turns out, and we worry too much what others think about us.

[_ToGo]

I regret being guilted into going, rather than leading my own life.

But I am grateful for meeting a couple of great guys. Just reconnected via the web last week with one of them--26 years later.

Jonah--you are a hero.