MTC--Week 2... Or 3

I read Catch-22 back in high school, and there was always this question as to whether or not anything that
was happening in the book was real, or if the narrator was just crazy.

Being in the MTC is a lot like that, especially when you're a solo sister. A member of my branch presidency acknowledged that the MTC is a lot different than the mission field in a way that really is artificial, and I can't really express how much of a relief that was to hear. Knowing that my entire mission isn't going to be like the MTC is one of the best balms of Gilead I've received since I've been here.

Things are going well. I'm learning a lot about what it means to teach simply. And even though the take-home lesson from everything we do here is supposed to be obedience, I spent enough time in Utah at BYU to know that obedience to the law never compensates for a lack of love for others in the heart of a disciple. So, the aim I've chosen for my time here is to learn how to teach with love and through the Spirit. I trust that if I do that and somehow don't get around to shining my shoes, I'm not going to ruin my mission or go straight to hell.

Do they say that openly? No. But is it implied in almost every setting we go to? It has been my experience so far, especially since I was made coordinating sister. A coordinating sister is basically the female equivalent of a zone leader, and it's my job to help new sisters in my district adapt well to the MTC, and to make sure sisters in my residence hall are abiding by the MTC rules.

I appreciate that this position exists, because the dissemination of information at the MTC is really tricky. Having a chain of communication for all the expectations and rules is useful. But I admit, I didn't realize that such a leadership position was basically a hall monitor/babysitter, and would include asking sisters to put their hair dryers away after 10:15 every night.

In a lot of ways, I'm beginning to understand what a mother goes through. She spends all of her time trying to take care of others, making sure they're doing what they're supposed to do. And the price she pays is to essentially have no time to herself, except what time she can steal as she says her prayers at night--sometimes through tears because she's just so tired.

Realizing, though, the kind of influence I have here though, and seeing what it has already taught me about the kind of woman the Savior wants me to be, I would trade any of this for any other experience in the world.

I'm here because I love my Heavenly Father, I love my Savior Jesus Christ, and I know that the message of His gospel is worth every price we pay to share it. I bear that witness in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

I am, as ever, your humble servant and never-deviating friend,

Sister Doyle