Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up and serve a mission for the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints – it was truly a lifelong goal for me.  

I finally submitted my mission papers the summer after I turned 21.  Waiting to receive my call in the mail was exciting and nerve racking all at the same time.  I had my heart set on going somewhere exotic and thrilling.  A place where the language was strange, and the food was stranger.  I wanted to be like Alma the Younger and the Sons of Mosiah – boldly and faithfully proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ in dangerous, distant lands. 

If I’m being completely honest, I think a small part of me wanted to prove that I was more than just a “temple square missionary” which is where almost everyone predicted I would go.  I didn’t exactly know what a Temple Square missionary was – but I inwardly hoped for somewhere else. 

Well, the day finally came and the large white envelope arrived.  I had been checking the mail everyday for a week and before I left for work that morning, I saw it sitting there.  That was a long day!  That evening after work I drove with my Mom and siblings to a wooded area near the river.  I wanted to open my call in a quiet, peaceful place.  Unfortunately my Dad was working out of town, so I called his cell phone and proceeded to tear open the large white envelope.    

“Dear Sister Gregson, you are hereby called to serve as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  You are assigned to labor in the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission.”

My dream of serving a mission had finally come true, and I was so excited . . . but I’m embarrassed to say that my excitement was laced with a tinge of disappointment about where I was going.  It wasn’t exactly thrilling and it certainly was not exotic.

“Where are you going?” my dad shouted into the phone.

“Temple Square” I replied.

“Where?”

“Temple Square”

“I can’t hear you very well honey, where is your mission call?”

“I’M GOING TO TEMPLE SQUARE!”

The thing was, I knew I would love it when I got there, but I wanted to love it now.  I wanted to be able to tell people with honest excitement where I was going and not be hurt when they laughed or said, “I told you so.”

I had two months until I was assigned to leave in August of 2006.  As the days and weeks passed, I continued to prepare – I bought my frumpy shoes and tweed skirts, I studied from Preach my Gospel and continued to attend all the temple and missionary prep classes I could.  And as the days and weeks passed, I truly did become more and more excited.  There was, however, one concern I had that lingered in the back of my mind.  It had to do with the type of mission Temple Square is. . .

It is a visitor’s center mission.

It is a seed planting mission. 

I knew then and know even more now that success in any effort is not always measured by tangible results, but that didn’t necessarily make it any easier.  I knew I would spend hours a day testifying of Jesus Christ and sharing the message of the restored gospel to hundreds of people . . . but then what?  Once the seed of faith had been planted, the people that came to temple square would go home and hopefully continue their journey on the covenant path . . . but I would never see them again! 

I would not experience the joy of watching God’s children learn gospel truths line upon line and help them prepare to make and keep sacred covenants. 

I would never be able to see the fruit of my labors.

It was a seed planting mission.

I was okay with that in my head, I just needed to be okay in my heart.  The answer came one day as I was studying Paul’s missionary experiences in the New Testament.  The people in Corinth were a lot like me – a little shortsighted and not totally grasping the big picture.  They were getting ahead of themselves and worrying about unimportant things like which missionary companion baptized them. 

Paul’s response to the saints in Corinth was exactly what I needed to hear,

“I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase.”

God gave the increase.

It was not Paul’s work nor the church of Apollos – it was God’s. 

It was God’s work then and it is God’s work now. 

This scripture sunk deep into my soul.  I knew in that moment that it really didn’t matter if I was a planter, a waterer or a harvester – God gives the increase. 

I tried to keep that perspective with me throughout my entire mission.  There were certainly days when this was easier said than done.  Times when I knew a person had been guided to visit Temple Square and I desperately wished I could be there with them as they continued on their journey.  But instead, I tried to focus on all the incredible miracles and unique blessings that came as a result of serving on Temple Square.  I knew I was doing what I had been called to do – my very small part in God’s grand vineyard. 

And guess what – I absolutely loved it!

Fast forward 17 years to present day and I once again find myself serving tirelessly in a seed planting mission – the mission of motherhood. 

A mission that is filled with the constant daily effort of planting and watering seeds with an occasional harvest here and there (just enough to keep a mother sane and going). 

Now don’t get me wrong, I am forever grateful for the blessing of being a mother and I know at the end of my life I will look back and love my mission, but I also want to love it now.  I sometimes feel like the 21 year old version of myself – the excitement and gratitude I have for my calling is often tainted by the disappointment I feel. 

Disappointment in myself as a mother

Disappointment in my children

Disappointment when things go wrong – and things will always go wrong.

Yesterday I was having a particularly disappointing day.  It started off with a yelling match between myself and my 9-year-old daughter over her hair – yes that’s right, her hair.  Seriously Christine! 

The house was a mess, the piles of laundry mountainous and I felt like I was failing at everything.  The several reminders from my 5-year-old at the dinner table that I am the fattest person in the family didn’t exactly help my self esteem and earlier in the day through what can only be described as a comedy of errors – I almost killed my daughters pet fish. 

In a meager attempt to begin cleaning our house, we started in her room (the messiest one) and did a deep clean.  This included dusting which happens about as frequently as taxes around here and as I stood on her bed to wipe down the frames on her wall, she felt in that moment the need to pull out all the bins under her bed to find something from her “secret box”.  I stepped down off the bed onto what should have just been the floor behind me, but was actually her head buried in her bin! Alarmed I stepped back again only to land in the bin beside it.  I attempted to correct my footing again, this time stepping on my other daughter innocently playing Lego nearby.  I lost my balance completely and dramatically flailed taking a glass vase with me. 

The vase went flying and came crashing down right onto my daughter’s fishbowl (that was temporarily on the floor while we were dusting).  In an instant, stinky fish water and shards of glass exploded everywhere, and my youngest daughter witnessing the entire ordeal stood there crying, “is Blueberry okay!  Is Blueberry okay!?” After we all recovered from the shock, I am happy to report that Blueberry is in fact okay . . . he is currently residing in a measuring cup on my counter until I can arrange an alternate habitat for him, but he is okay. 

The moral of the story is that dusting is dangerous business and should probably be avoided at all costs. 

The deeper moral of the story is that sometimes it can be really hard to serve in a seed planting mission.  A mission where all of your efforts seem fruitless and pointless.  A mission where it often feels like I am a hamster running circles on a wheel of tears, tantrums and trying to figure out what to make for dinner again. 

Several years ago, my mom gave a me a book written by Emily Watts called, “The Slow-Ripening Fruit of Mothering.”  She shares that children are the slowest-ripening fruit there is. 

“That fruit takes a long time to ripen.  It takes a lot of faith, and a lot of spiritual insight, and divine encouragement, to see it as it’s really going to be.  In the end, in order to have the patience we need, we have to remember how fruit ripens.  Consider that we plant it, and we nurture it, and we water it, and we do what we can, but the ripening of that fruit is mostly up to the sun.  It’s the same with the fruit of our children.  Ultimately, their maturing depends largely on the Son.  We have to trust him.”

And so it is with this trust that I move forward. 

Trusting that there is value in my work as a mother. 

Trusting that my efforts are not in vain. 

And trusting that I can be forgiven of all the mistakes I make every single day . . . even mistakes like yelling at my incredibly strong willed daughter or almost murdering her birthday fish.  

Returning to my dusting saga – after a long and tiring day, our family sat down together last night for scripture study and opened the New Testament to the next chapter in our reading assignment . . .

1st Corinthians chapter three. 

Yes, the same chapter that brought so much peace to my heart all those years ago was right there in front of me.   

“I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase.“

I felt God’s love showered upon me in that moment. 

He knows better than anyone that motherhood is a seed planting mission. 

He sees my daily efforts, understands my heart and is acutely aware of the four little slow-ripening fruits that I am striving to love, nurture, and some days just keep alive. 

I read the verse over and over in my mind and then came the gentle reminder from the spirit to trust in the Lord. 

Trust that all my efforts are being sanctified through the Son – the only one who is truly capable of ripening the fruit. 

Trust in his love – his love for the fruit and his love for the one who planted it. 

And finally, trust that at the end of the day when all is said and done – God gives the increase.