The Decisions that Define Our Futures

Elder Eric Partidge served with me in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. His influence on me will last forever.

Age brings perspective. If I'm honest -- which I must be -- I'll admit lost opportunities and poor decisions. I suppose it's the same for everyone. For some of us, those missed opportunities and poor decisions are more serious than others. But as my Mission President taught me, even these can become a blessing to us and others when we use them to learn, grow, and help others avoid the same pitfalls of life.

As a young man, I prepared for high school graduation in 1995. For me, this period of life brought a mix of excitement and some apprehension. I won't say that I was certain of what I wanted to do with my life. I only knew that I wanted to do something. So, I applied to Westminster College of Salt Lake City and was accepted. My plan was to become a teacher. Thankfully, my parents helped me to understand that I could accomplish this without incurring so much debt. This private college ran about $30,000/year. Ultimately, I withdrew before ever stepping foot on campus.

With Westminster in the rearview mirror of life, I decided to move to Utah with my best friend, Matt Anderson. Matt had been an anchor of sorts during our teenage years. Not only was his mother like a second mom to me, but she was our seminary teacher. Matt and I also attended school together and played football and basketball for the Tioga Pirates. We attended North Dakota Boys' State together-- twice. He was better at everything than me. And that was a good thing. When they needed opening and closing prayers for high school graduation, guess who they asked? Yep, the two Mormons. Needless to say, we spent quite a bit of time together.

Our purpose in moving to Orem, Utah was to take Mission Preparation classes together at what was then Utah Valley State College. We stayed at Matt's brother's house where we were kindly given a room together. We registered for the same institute classes at the college and finally obtained employment through a temp agency. Our job was running the shrink wrapping department at Community Press during the evening shift.

Matt was the only one of us with a vehicle. In fact, at the time, I didn't even have my driver's license. Needless to say, we spent a lot of time together. By the time Christmas break rolled around, I was done. I had enough of Utah. All I wanted to do was go home to North Dakota. I'm now embarrassed to say it, but I didn't even care about a mission anymore. I returned home with the determination that I would remain active in church, but that a mission wasn't for me.

I got my driver's license, obtained employment, began saving money, and even bought myself a 1989 Jeep Cherokee. I loved that Jeep. I babied it like you can't imagine. It was immaculate inside and out. I made sure the oil was changed regularly-- whether it needed it or not.

I remained active in the church. But feelings began to nag me that I needed to reconsider my decision to not serve a mission. To complicate things, I had met an exchange student from Brazil. By the time her school year came to a close, we had decided that perhaps we should plan on getting married. She wasn't a member of the church, but I had spoken with her of the possibility of serving a mission.

After she flew home at the completion of the school year, our plan was to still get married. But feelings set in that were undeniable. I knew that it wasn't the right thing to do. After multiple conversations, we agreed that it was best to move on. She even mentioned to me that perhaps I could serve the mission I had talked about.

I kept working, saving, and attending church. And while I continued to contemplate a mission, I hadn't yet decided to go on one. My friend Matt had though and had received his call to go to Russia. Attending his mission open house became a very emotional thing for me. We had planned on putting our mission papers in at the same time and I had screwed it up. It wasn't a good feeling, though I was excited for him and his call. I knew he was doing the right thing.

Those whom I respected most in the church never gave up on me though. If I recall correctly, we were still a District at the time. The District President gave Brother Lowell Cheney -- who would later become our Stake Patriarch -- the assignment to come and visit with me one Sunday about serving a mission.

Brother Cheney was a spiritual giant. I shared my reasoning with him for coming home from Utah and not serving a mission. I won't get into the details of that discussion, but his response was soft-- yet direct. "Your experience in Utah with your best friend may have been well-intended, but it was not that of a young man who is set apart to be a full-time missionary." That hit me where it mattered.

In the ensuing months, the Spirit continued to work on me. Then I listened to a fireside in which a convert of the church shared his conversion story. After he was baptized, he served a mission. He told of an elderly woman he had taught and baptized who later had her patriarchal blessing. And in that blessing she was told that she would have had the gospel in her life years before, but the young men who were supposed to have taught her then had neglected their responsibility to serve. So, two others had been prepared to teach her instead.

Much like the words of Brother Cheney, this story hit me where it mattered-- only with an even greater force. I realized I didn't want to be one of those who had neglected his responsibility to serve. As the man in the fireside had said, "Our decision to serve or not serve affects the salvation of others." So, I made the decision to get things in order, turn in my mission papers, and go wherever I was called.

About this same time, our District President once again sent someone to have another Sunday afternoon conversation with me about serving a mission. This time it was Brother Michael Kelly. At the time, he was a counselor in the District Presidency. I'd always looked up to him. In the only way Brother Kelly knows how to address issues -- very direct -- he told me he was there on assignment to discuss serving a mission. I told him it was good timing, because I'd decided I wanted to go.

I'll never forget receiving my mission call in the mail. My patriarchal blessing had said that I would teach the people's of the world. In my mind's eye, I imagined somewhere foreign-- a place I'd be required to learn another language. To my surprise, I was called to the Canada Toronto West Mission-- speaking English. I wondered how on Earth I would teach the people's of the world there. Time would prove to me how little I knew and how the Lord knew better. I think I encountered people from every region of the world during my time in Canada.

As is the case with most missionaries, my mission had its ups and downs. But it was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. It set a course that still blesses me today. I had sacred experiences that I still draw from 20 years later. When I think about the companions I had, missionaries I served around, the people I taught, the members I worked with, and my Mission President; my heart is filled with gratitude.

As it turns out, I had some of my own experiences that proved I was prepared to teach certain people the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I'll share just one of them.

I had served for some time with Elder Eric Partridge in Hamilton, Ontario. Elder Partridge had only been a member for one year prior to going on this mission. I grew to love this wonderful man. His story was miraculous to me and he was a good missionary who could relate well to those we were teaching. But when calls came for me to be transferred, I was surprised to find out that I wasn't going to another city. I was being transferred into an area with a brand new missionary-- some people affectionately refer to them as "greenie's". I never cared for the term though.

Elder Christopher Carlton was wonderful. He came from Kansas and was quite the character. He used to do this Chris Farley impression for members. I must admit, it was amusing. But I wasn't sure how appropriate it was for a representative of Jesus Christ to do a rendition of, "I live in a van down by the river." Yet, members sure seemed to get a kick out of it.

In time, we began to teach a man by the name of Steven Gallagher. Brother Gallagher was one of those investigators that every missionary dreamed of teaching and baptizing. He was young, intelligent, and had a great personality. To us, he was surely future Bishop and Stake President material. Brother Gallagher had been taught by multiple sets of missionaries before we came to the area. His wife, LeAnn, was a member of the church, but hadn't been active for some time. She had just begun coming back to church.

I'll never forget pulling up outside of the Gallagher's apartment. Normally we planned our teaching appointments. But on this occasion, we hadn't. The appointment had been on my mind though and I had received the strongest impression that morning of what we should share with him. As I stood at the trunk of our Chevy Cavalier to grab our things, Elder Carlton asked me what we were going to share with Brother Gallagher. My response was just to follow my lead.

We entered the apartment and after the typical greetings and pleasantries, we opened the lesson with a prayer. I knew Brother Gallagher's biggest hang-up was whether Joseph Smith was truly a Prophet of God. I followed through with my impression from earlier that morning and read Section 135 of the Doctrine & Covenants to him. I ended by sharing my testimony with him of the Prophet Joseph Smith. I then asked Elder Carlton and Sister Gallagher to share theirs. Finally, I asked Brother Gallagher to share his feeling with me about what we had read.

Brother Gallagher was sitting forward and looking at the floor in an obvious moment of contemplation. He expressed how astonishing it was that the boy Joseph had gone to that grove of trees and had the experiences that he did. The room was quiet and the feeling was sweet. He finally looked up at me and said, "Well, Elder LaBar, I guess all we have to do now is schedule the baptism." And we did. By the end of the week, we had finished the remaining discussions, interviewed him for baptism, and Brother Gallagher entered the waters of baptism where he made eternal covenants that would bless him and his family for eternity.

About a year later, I was finishing my mission in Brampton, Ontario when I got word that Brother and Sister Gallagher were coming to town to attend the Toronto Temple and to be sealed as a family. I was fortunate enough to attend that beautiful occasion. After that sacred ceremony, Brother Gallagher gave me a letter he had written. I'll cherish it forever. In it, he mentioned that from the first time Elder Carlton and I had taught him that he knew we were sent for him.

I now know that the constant spiritual impressions I felt prompting me to reconsider my decision not to serve a mission were given from a wise Father in Heaven who knew exactly what was best for me and those I would teach. I shutter to think of the consequences had I not followed.

Next time you're faced with important choices, don't forget that our decisions define our futures-- and sometimes the futures of others.

Works Cited:

1. https://www.lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/135?lang=eng