Editor’s note • Robert Kirby is recovering from rocket-related activities. This is a reprint of an earlier column.
I just received a letter from an LDS missionary. Because he wants to continue being a missionary, and his mom might die of shame if his name turned up in one of my columns, I shall refer to him as Elder B.
Elder B is serving the Lord in the East Buglick, Someplace Awful-South Mission. He seems to be the typical missionary, meaning that he loves the locals, wishes that wolves would eat his companion, and wants to know what’s up with the Jazz.
“All I get from home is ‘work hard’ and ‘return with honor’ and ‘be faithful.’ Duh. Why don’t they ever tell me things I want to know, like who the Jazz plan to start?”
Fortunately for B, this is the one missionary question I can answer. First, though, I solved his information problem. I packaged up the last six weeks of The Tribune’s Jazz coverage and shipped it off to him.
Of course, this is contrary to the counsel that Mormons should help their missionaries focus solely on the Lord’s work. Alas, this particular Mormon believes that the true power of individual agency is the same wise counsel that keeps him off drugs: “Just say no.”
If you think exposing B to worldly distractions is wrong, not to worry. Where he is it’s going to cost him 8 million pesos ($11.25 U.S.) to get the package out of customs. And by the time he finishes standing in line to get it, the pro basketball season will be over.
Still, B has a valid point. The answer to his question about inane mail from home is simple:
It’s tough enough to get some kids to go on missions, never mind keeping them there. One of the main ways family and friends have found to keep you there is to keep you stupid.
This is accomplished not so much by lying as it is by putting the best possible spin on events at home. You just have to learn to use the spirit when reading your mail. This is what those tried and true phrases really mean.
• We pray for you every day. (Namely that you will stay there until the fun of having you gone wears off).
• We love you (Velerne doesn’t anymore).
• We know you are having many special experiences (like going bald, getting fat, and turning Republican).
• The Lord continues to bless us with trials. (Your little brother got hauled back into court again).
• Someday you will have a wonderful eternal mate. (But it won’t be Verlene. She started dating before you were out of the MTC).
• We know that you are working hard there (although why you never were able to keep your room clean here remains a mystery).
• We are happy to report that Grandpa is doing much better. (If he falls off the porch again, we’re using your missionary fund to put him in a home).
• We hope you have a good senior companion. (Verlene wants to date him).
• Sometimes the Lord moves in mysterious ways (the Jazz bombed in the playoffs again).
• The changing season makes us think of you (Uncle LeDell shot a monster buck on the Manti).
• People in the ward ask about you all the time (They still can’t believe the church let you go on a mission).
• It seems like you have been gone a long time (At $350 a month, it should).
• Sometimes it seems like you just left (please ask for an extension).
• Be prepared for some changes when you get home (Verlene is married and pregnant with twins — and we sold your motorcycle).
