From almost the moment I arrived in Missouri one question has inundated
me from nearly everyone: have you had any success? Each time I am taken
back; I don’t know quite how to answer that.
Rewind to four months ago. School was winding to a close and it was
becoming more and more apparent to me that I needed to make more money
then I was currently making. Actually, that’s painting a rosier picture
than reality. I wasn’t making any money. I had all but stopped taking
substitute jobs because I found the demands of school too much to
accomplish both work and study. This concerned me. I had obligations
and I needed to move forward in my life. Being single is fun, but only
in short distance. I was pulling a marathon. But how could I date if I
didn’t have enough money to even drive somewhere? The guilt of being 25
and still living at home weighed on me greatly as well.
Trying my best, I made it a matter of fasting, prayer, and dedicated
thought. It seemed there was some sort of block. I wasn’t getting any
inspiration, it seemed every avenue was blockaded. Then it came.
After an institute class a friend of mine made an announcement about a
summer sales job. It hit me like a lightening bolt. I felt so strong
that I should go. I knew this is what I was supposed to do. Against my
complete understanding that this kind of job is brutal, difficult, and
mind-twisting I was filled with excitement.
As soon as school was over, I packed up my belongings and hopped on my
Yamaha and rode out to St. Louis Missouri. The trip was 17,000 miles of
empty space interspersed by extreme yet short moments of breathtaking
beauty. I never thought I’d be happy to see Amarillo, Texas, but after
the long haul through New Mexico and the Panhandle it was almost more
than I could take to see buildings taller than one story. The promise
of my initial paycheck of $600 dollars, which I would receive when I
arrived, kept me going.
Miraculously I made it to my destination.
As it turns out, I didn’t receive payment as I was promised. That
money, or at least part of it, was supposed to go toward new tires for
my scooter (they were worn out by the time the trip was done). Turns
out I would only get it in two halves spread over a month. And by that
time I had run out of money completely. Nevertheless I went to work.
The days were long, starting at around 12:00 and ending at 9:00. For my
first month I only made 4 sales. My roommates did better than me, yet
still nowhere near what they expected. It was discouraging.
Through all this hardship a bond was growing. Mike, John, and Clint
became like brothers to me. I’d known Mike and John since I was six,
and Clint for a couple years yet I found myself closer to them. Vanessa
and Ginger, I’d known a long time and it was great to have them out
here with all of us. In short, these friendships were strengthened and
I have learned something from each of them.
Walking door to door and street to street for eight hours a day gives
your mind more time to think than normally allowed. During this time I
felt an increased desire to be a better person, but not only better,
but more clean and pure. I did not have any sins I had not repented of,
but I began to understand that there was more I could do.
In the midst of this personal growth I took a dive. Literally. Into the
asphalt off the I64 and the 270 freeways. Wrecking my scooter was an
interesting experience to say the least. The result: Road Rash, Broken
Glasses, popped front tire.
One effect was that I could not go out and sell. My left leg was so
scratched up and scabbed over that I couldn’t walk. Imagine having the
most intense sunburn covering a good portion of your lower leg. Then
take that leg to a cheese grater and go to work! That’s about what was
going on with my leg. Needless to say, it kept me form walking much.
Worse, the doctor did not prescribe any pain medication so sleep became
next to impossible.
Thankfully, a friend helped me out and was able to acquire a small prescription for me to help with the pain, which meant I could sleep. My
leg is now all but totally healed (still a few scabs, but no big deal).
I’m awaiting new glasses in the mail, which should arrive any day now.
Soon enough I will be able to go back to work.
The time that I have spent recuperating has been one of learning. I’ve
never received so much love and service from people for so long in my
life. It felt downright uncomfortable for me at first. A friend getting
me a book so i wouldn’t be bored all day. Someone coming over just to
make me dinner. Calls from friends and family. It was an outpouring.
I’m sued to being the one who tries to serve. Quite frankly, in that
role those things can never really be reciprocated in a totally equal
way. That’s ok. It’s not why I do it. But this was a whole different experience to me.
Perhaps now it may seem evident to you why I have a such a hard time
with the question of whether I had success out here. It entirely
depends on how you measure it. If the measure is the fulfillment of my
expectations to begin with, then no, it was failure. I will be far more
in the whole and set back because of this summer than I could’ve
imagined. However, it was never my idea to do this. I
know that an infinitely knowledgeable and loving Supreme Being wanted
this for me. I have learned more about who I am. I have had the privilege of helping people, and of developing relationships I would
have missed out on had I stayed home. I treasure those people. I hold
those experiences sacred.
Did I have success? I don’t know. I know that I am glad I came here. I
know that I will be glad to go home. I know life’s only going to get
tougher for me, but I trust that all will work for my good. I know that
I was supposed to be here, but I don’t fully comprehend why. There will
be a time when I’m old and wrinkly and I’ll look back on this time.
I’ll stop mid-thought and realize, “ahhh, that’s why!” Until
then, I’m satisfied to know I’m safe and loved.
