"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." That is how Charles Dickens starts his epic novel, A Tale of Two Cities. The phrase also describes perfectly the summer of 1989 when I was in Santa Clara, California, serving as a full time missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was the best of times because I was involved in teaching five people who chose to enter the waters of baptism. It was the worst of times because of some challenges presented by the four companions I was assigned to serve with during those seven months.
I had been out a little bit more than a year when I was transferred to the Santa Clara II Ward in the West Valley Zone of the California San Jose Mission. When I learned of the transfer, I was also informed that I would finally be a senior companion, meaning that I would be the one in charge. Mormon missionaries, of course, are assigned in pairs; the senior of the two calls the shots, deciding which streets to tract – door-to-door contacting – and where to go and what to do. The junior companion is supposed to go along and do what the senior companion wants, but it doesn’t always work out that way.
Some senior companions want to take it easy, which can be a challenge for a junior companion who wants to work hard. At the same time, some junior companions can be difficult to motivate, which can cause some headaches for a senior companion who also wants to work hard. I had been on the first side of that equation as a junior companion, and now I was to be on the other side.
The four companions I was assigned in Santa Clara each had some issues they were dealing with. The first had been a senior companion only to find out that he would now be junior to me which, naturally, led to some negative feelings on his part. The second was with me for the last two months of his mission, and he was still a junior companion, never having had the chance to be a senior. He was a good missionary, but may have lacked the maturity needed to be a senior companion.
My third companion in Santa Clara also never had the chance to be a senior companion, but for a very different reason. This missionary had some disciplinary issues, and during the month we were together, his mission teetered as if on the head of a pin. In the month before he was transferred he had done something particularly egregious, and was almost sent home; instead, the mission president put him on probation. For days and weeks my companion debated with himself whether to stay or go home. In the meantime, while I gave him a taste of hard work, I didn’t want to work so hard that he would feel like calling it quits He ended up staying, and completing his mission, but that might have been the most difficult month of my mission.
My last companion in that area had been with me in the Missionary Training Center, and he was another missionary who never had the chance to be a senior companion. This elder – the title given to male Mormon missionaries – had a reputation of working as hard, or as little, as his senior companion, but by the time he was assigned to me I think he had given up and was just biding his time until he could go home. It also seemed that I did not have the same authority, if you will, as his previous companions because we had both been out on our missions for the same amount of time.
The first companion of the four, while understandably frustrated at being demoted, was willing to work. More importantly, we were able to teach a young girl and her family. The baptism age for children born in the church is eight; when a child turns nine and has not been baptized, they need to at least meet with the missionaries before they can be baptized. We taught not just this girl, but her entire family, which proved to be a blessing for all.
My next companion and I taught another nine-year-old girl. We also tracted into – found while door knocking – an older woman that we taught. She said she had been baptized as a young girl in Hawaii, but a search in Salt Lake City did not find her records. Therefore, she was baptized again. Then we started teaching the friend of one of the ward members who might have been called a dry Mormon – just add water.
My third companion in Santa Clara and I had one teaching appointment with our new investigator and then the member who gave us the referral went on vacation for a few weeks. As it turned out, by the time we next taught our dry Mormon, I had another companion. After he was baptized, the bishop of the ward gave us another referral, this time to a part member couple. The husband was interested in coming back to the church while his wife was investigating the church.
This really was the best and the worst. While it proved to be a challenge, the wife did eventually choose to be baptized, which was one of the best moments of my mission. But my companion at the time was another challenge. I tried several different things to motivate him, or to at least get him out of the apartment so we could go to work, but found little success. I did not put the blame for this on my companion, at least not all of it. I was the senior companion, I was responsible. In losing momentum on my mission, I began to lose confidence, and soon fell into the depths of depression.
I can still remember the disappointment on my mission president’s face as I took responsibility for the lack of work in my area. I was in my seventh month, and in my third month with my fourth companion in that area. I was tired and defeated. I could have put the blame on my companion, but I didn’t, I took it all on myself. I was senior and ultimately, I felt, it was my responsibility. At the same time, by being able to stay for that seventh month, I was there for my final baptism, which was truly a wonderful note to go out on.
At the end of that month I was transferred out, and in my next area I would start as a junior companion. Now I found myself in the same position as my first companion in Santa Clara. I am sure I felt some of the same emotions he did, but I decided to quietly accept my demotion. While my companions in Santa Clara had presented challenges, I made my own choices, and some of them were not as good as others. Perhaps not everything that happened in that area was my responsibility alone, but enough of them were that I felt my demotion was appropriate.
Two months later, I was a senior companion again, and I had a junior companion willing to work has hard as I wanted to. Both of us were of a mind to stretch ourselves to do more, to work an hour or two longer each day than we were already working. After two more months I was on my way home. In the end, I was able to finish my mission on my own terms, as it were. Though we didn't find many people to teach in my last two months, we worked hard and, as noted, stretched ourselves, which brought its own satisfaction.
Sometimes we are called upon to endure relatively brief challenges of great intensity; at other times we are called upon to endure unremitting difficulty lasting days, weeks, months or even years. Regardless of the circumstance, and the nature of the difficulty, it is best to press forward in faith, to "gird up [our] loins, fresh courage take," and to remind ourselves that "our God will never us forsake."
Our Heavenly Father may not immediately relieve us of the challenges we are facing, instead he may strengthen us to carry the load. When the challenge is finally over, we may be able to look back and appreciate how the experience has changed us, hopefully for the better. That is, after all, the purpose of our sojourn through mortality, to learn and grown and become more like our Heavenly Father.
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