...that did not involve actual missionary work?

I recall being in an area where we had a car. We were told we had to get an oil change. I remember thinking YES! That will surely eat up about an hour where we would otherwise be knocking on doors. I also remember hoping that the car had more issues that needed fixing so it would take up even more time otherwise spent doing actual missionary work!

Mundane things such as this fortunately did not always fall within the normally prescribed preparation day, so if we had to go to a dry cleaner or do some shopping on a proselytizing day, I could not wait to do them! How pathetic is that?!

I once dug potatoes with a stick and my bare hands. That certainly beat regular missionary work. Even getting stuck in the snow or having a flat tire were pleasant breaks. I think one companion intentionally ran out of gas a couple of times.

Missionary work aka trying to trick people into accepting something they neither want or need ... is a totally unnatural and intrinsically distasteful, if not downright disgusting behavior for ANYONE, let alone 19-21 year old human beings.

ANYTHING feels better than Missionary work. Being SICK and in PAIN feels better.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/07/2016 03:27PM by beyondashadow.

Fully agree..Other things I can think of that I actually enjoyed since they avoided missionary work include taking my companion to the dentist, looking for a new apartment, service activities, and long-distance travel (to a meeting or mission home).

The high point of my mission, towards the end, was appendicitis. It was like winning the lottery. I got an all-expenses-paid vacation from missionary work with a few days in the British Hospital & Spa in Buenos Aires for an appendectomy, followed by a couple weeks recuperation at the mission home with no tracting or other missionary work required.

What kind of scam are you running when getting appendicitis is an improvement?

"Heavenly Father, please bless me with appendicitis or some other non-life-threatening illness or disease that's bad enough to legitimately excuse me from missionary work and take lots of time to recover, but that will not kill me. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 08/07/2016 03:37PM by beyondashadow.

Yes, you did indeed "win the lottery" with appendicitis.

All I ever got was a few days off with food poisoning and ingrown-toe-nail surgeries.

Kind of like winning the "Pick 3" compared to you!

; )

I loved going to Sanborn's.

I loved getting a haircut.

I loved the planning and execution of trips to the movies.

I loved the challenge of getting people to laugh, at their doors, as we tracted.

I loved reading.

Laughter, we were always laughing...

who on earth imagines, and worships, a ghawd who doesn't laugh.

I was in the hospital several times on my mission. It was for amoebic dysentery and then typhus fever. I was happy not to be tracting while I was in the hospital. How pathetic is that? I was SO GLAD once my mission was over. So happy about coming home and not being out accomplishing nothing. So I married the first woman who gave me the time of day and things got worse, but that is another story...

Yeah. I was in the hospital a couple of weeks with hepatitis, in isolation. Sweet vacation.

When I was in the office staff our P-day was Saturday. All four of us did our laundry at the laundromat at night so we could watch the Love Boat and Fantasy Island.

I didn't serve a mission, but I've had the chance to help a few M's temporarily escape theirs a few times. For example, after we got married the Mrs. and I had to combine households--moving my stuff into her place several blocks away. We called the MP, who dispatched a small herd of M's to help us.

I don't think I've ever seen missionaries so happy before or since. The wife and I were already (mostly) active members, so nobody needed evangelizing. The kids got to lug around our furniture--out of my place, onto and off the truck, into her place. Meanwhile I was preparing a feast for them. Everybody chowed down and they hung out for awhile, trading stories and generally chilling.

The next Sunday at church I saw many of them again and they were back to being slumped over into that desultory hunched posture that missionaries assume when the mission's bearing down on them. They look like turkey vultures slumped over some unidentifiable roadkill. I was glad to have their assistance moving my stuff, and also glad we could give them a chance to stop being missionaries for a couple hours and just be kids lending their backs and breaking a sweat.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/07/2016 03:39PM by getbusylivin.

They used to come to my house and play on the trampoline. They really are just kids.

When my nephew was on a mission, one of his emails said that if they met their monthly quota, they'd get to go to the zoo. He was really excited and wrote about nothing else until they finally went to the zoo. As someone who never went on a mission, I remember thinking, "The Zoo? What 18-21 year-old kid wants to go to the zoo?"

Now I get it.

We didn't have a car, we rode bikes. I hated knocking on doors - HATED it. We'd bike about 7 miles out to where there were big buildings and then spend the day going door to door, eating lunch in the stairwells unless someone chased us out. As much as I hated teaching the discussions, it was always a nice break from knocking on doors, especially when my companion would do her best to make it last as long as possible.

I was always so happy when a member family would invite us to dinner because it would mean we'd have to cut short the tracting, bike home, put the bikes away and wait for the members to pick us up. Then we'd spend the entire evening with them - which I hear you can't do anymore - but oh how I loved those member evenings!

Of course being a sister missionary you could always use your period as an out for at least a day or two every month - and if you and your companion didn't synch up, then there might be another day or two when SHE'D be out of commission. Looking back it really is pretty sad that we all looked forward to being sick or whatever just so we didn't have to do missionary work. I loved everything else about the mission - just not the missionary work!!

You nailed it!

We were in a downtown area where an infrequent once a day train would slowly waddle into town. There never was "Hey let's hurry to cross the tracks" attitude while riding our bikes. Instead, we locked our bikes outside of a Whataburger (Texas~ ya know :) and ordered food and cold drinks while watching the train going back and forth. A good hour and a half would easily pass by, then we would bike to our apartment for "dinner" after the train had departed. for That could easily kill the evening for knocking doors. Boy, did I ever secretly pray to see that train!

And I knew elders that were thrilled to have go out of their area because their comp had to see various medical specialists.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/07/2016 07:55PM by messygoop.

I had mostly great companions on my mission but a couple were really bonkers. I remember looking forward to transfers in great hopes of getting a not crazy new companion or getting transfered somewhere far from my current crazy companion. One of the crazies stayed with me for six months. Every transfer day was a huge let down when neither of us got transfered.

Maybe most missions have at least one Elder Pariah whom you hope and pray you will never end up with as companions.

As luck would have it, I ended up with our Elder Pariah aka Elder Heath (Argentina South '69-'71). He would translate American English idioms directly into Spanish, and the locals had no clue what he was saying. For you Spanish speakers, one of his gems was:

Me está manejando loco.

Elder Jeffrey Heath did have some impressive post-mission plans. He intended to build himself a rocket and fly to the moon. His secret sauce was "Parts are cheaper in Japan."

The saving grace of this period of my mission was the location: We lived two blocks from the beach in Mar del Plata in the summertime. We felt behooved on occasion to venture near the ocean at times, searching for anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy to seek after (in our imaginations at least). There was no shortage of bikini-clad Joseph Smith bait on display at the beaches. It can be good spiritual exercise to test your ability to avoid impure thoughts and enticing fantasies once in a while ... if not frequently.

Geeze! I still recall this one jaw-dropping, stunner babe whose bikini top was hopelessly too small. I asked her mother if we could take her picture. Mom declined.

Opportunity missed. Lesson learned: If you won't like the answer, don't ask permission.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/07/2016 11:03PM by beyondashadow.

. . . Mormon missions are a scandalous waste of time!

I remember being stopped at red lights and hoping that they would never turn green.

...bike rides!
I served in the south and many of the areas we were responsible for were large and contained lots of rural countryside.
Once I became senior companion I would often get "inspired" to tract a rural street or two that were 20 miles or more away. So, we would spend a couple of hours enjoying a nice leisurely spin both ways to tract a total of 15-20 houses. We would bring a lunch along and find a cool place to eat and rest for the trip home. It was a great way to spend a whole day and do pretty much no missionary work!

That was one of the great things about zone conference, not proselyting for an entire day.

I found a quiet suburban green zone in one area. We could stroll along the walking track, watch the ducks, say hi to passing walkers but not engage. But convince ourselves that we would with the next person.

We would schedule a whole day to visit a less active family in an isolated community in the hills.

I had one companion who wanted to visit a family in an ajoining town, and decided to walk there. Two hours walk each way. I didn't care. We walked along the verge of the railway and so didn't meet a single other person on the way.

I did very little "work" as a missionary, but I had one companion who insisted we tract every day. It came as a relief when I stepped in a hole and sprained my ankle. I couldn't walk more than a simple hobble for a few days, so we stayed in the apartment. Probably the best few days of the entire experience.

We were supposed to knock on doors every minute when we weren't teaching or going to church or on P-day, but if we had done that, we would have knocked on every door in our given area in just a few weeks. So we'd knock on doors for a couple of hours in the mornings, and a couple more in the afternoon. One of the nice things was when tracting away from our apartment, we'd get fish & chips & a soda from a corner deli. Sometimes we'd find a shady park bench to sit on while eating, and just pass the time. Sometimes there'd be a soccer or cricket match in the park to watch while eating.

We were supposed to work until 9:30 PM, but I never felt good about knocking on doors after dark. So, instead of just going home, we'd go to a library, bookstore, park, or anywhere that was interesting. I spent about half of my mission near the beach, so sometimes we'd walk or ride our bikes along the beach. If there were some church members in the area, we might stop by just to say hello and pass a little time. If there was another set of missionaries nearby we might stop by their flat and chat or whatever. One set of elders had a ring toss board on their wall, so we'd have ring toss contests. Anything for recreation and to pass the time.

When I was in Mackay, North Queensland, Australia (on the Great Barrier Reef), on Fridays, which was district study day, our four-man district would take the Toyota up the coast to one of the beach communities. We'd knock on doors for a couple of hours, then meet back at a store/deli and buy sandwich fixings or hot dogs and eat at a picnic table on the beach. Sometimes we'd stay until sunset and play on the beach.

When we tired of knocking on doors in the city, we'd ride our bikes out of town a few miles and knock on a few in the country. The purpose was to get some different scenery than anything else. One day, near the end of my mission, I was on the Gold Coast, south of Brisbane. We rode our bikes several miles inland to sightsee, and I got a flat tire. We had to walk all the way home.

We had some investigators in beach towns 10 or 12 miles away from our flat, so we'd take a bus down the coastal highway to see them. Those were scenic trips. In one town there was a cafe which made American-style hamburgers and milk shakes, which was rare for us, so we'd eat there before catching the bus back home.

And of course, on P-days, we'd play racquetball, or frisbee football, or go to museums, zoos, etc. In the tropics, we had a few water balloon fights on P-days too. But we never went in the ocean, because Satan controlled the waters.

Just this weekend, following some of the monsoon rains we've had in the valley of the sun, I was lamenting having to push the lawnmower around the yard.

It reminded me of my mission, and how I had the chance to mow a family's lawn in Calexico, CA, and how it didn't really need it, but I insisted that it did, and explained to my comp how service was so important.

On my mission nothing could have been better then mowing a lawn. Post-mission I'm clearly not a fan.

Go figure...

"I had the chance to mow a family's lawn in Calexico, CA, and how it didn't really need it, but I insisted that it did, and explained to my comp how service was so important."

That reminds me of an experience in my first area in Brisbane, Australia. Our landlady was a delightful elderly woman named Claire Griffith. We rented half of her house. She had apparently gotten some former missionaries to do some work for her. I was a grand-new greenie, and my companion was a 24-year-old ex-Army guy who was a straight arrow. Mrs. Griffiths asked me if I could change the spark plugs in her car, which was a 1950s Aussie car called a Vauxhall. I'd grown up working on cars, trucks, and tractors, so changing a set of plugs was no problem for me. I told her that I'd do it if she provided the plugs and the tools.

My straight arrow comp was against it, but I did it anyway on a P-day. Funny thing was, I had no clothes then except for my suits and white shirts. So I did the job wearing my garments with my knee-length vinyl raincoat over them.

and "my" mishies had a flippin' Nazi for an MP. If your sinuses were congested, you practically had to have written permission to take out a Kleenex and blow your nose. It was SO stupid.

They didn't have a phone, which I thought was also stupid. I liked and trusted these kids, and since I was at work most of the day, I gave them a key to my house and told them they could use my phone for mission-related calls. Nobody ever cheated and called home.

I also told them that they were allowed to get into anything they liked in the fridge or pantry. One time I left a made-from scratch down-home Southern peach cobbler for them. I happened to come home to find them happily digging into it like starved squirrels. I know that they spent time at my house just hanging out and avoiding mish work. I had absolutely NO problem with this.

On the day one of "my" boys was going home, he brought his mom over to my house and introduced me as his "mom away from home." He gave me a big hug and told me he didn't know how he would have survived his mission if he hadn't been able to crash at my house with his comp from time to time.

I loved those kids, and was happy to provide some "down time" (we even pooled our money for pizza, soft drinks and rented movies!) for them. They knew I would never snitch on them.

I spent a lot of time doing anything but missionary work.

Let's see less actives and video games all throughout my mission. Ohh yeah... Lots of days spent that way. We were fellowshiping them back into the fold by smoking their ass on goldeneye. I once played crash bandicoot so long my thumbs cramped up for two days. Warcraft on the PC in the flat with the office elders was fun. Played online against his brother.

One of my companions and I would hitch a bus 45 minutes into the downtown five days a week. Buy a USAToday and some snacks and then read it on the way back. By then it was around lunch so we took a lunch. We'd go out and visit less actives or a few members for dinner and the rest of the evening. Most days we found time for an afternoon nap. Occasionally we would walk by the canal and feed the ducks, geese and swans. I found a stash of books and read them all. Must have been a couple dozen of them. He also taught me to juggle. A skill that I had plenty of time to practice. I used golfballs and some small juggling balls.

One of my companions and I both got food poisoning. We were sick as a dogs for 4 days. He had a small collection of fantasy books. I read them all. It was wonderful other than the time in the can.

My last companion and I were together for two months. He was joyful fellow but really pretty slow. It would take him hours to get ready in the morning and if he had to cook anything it wa 4-5 hours. I showed him how to do a lot of stuff but generally we hung out. We decided to not pay for bikes or bus passes. So were didn't go anywhere. We spent the extra money on food. I also had a goldfish by then that I carried around.

Companion studies and practice never happened with any of my companions. Some would try it once. I would kick back with my eyes closed being mostly asleep as they read. Then if they complained about my attitude I would give a clear and concise summary, references and interpretation of the scripture. I'd make up a few believable things on the spot. Young men commonly do not like looking stupid and are not comfortable with people who know vast amounts of information more than them. I never did it more than once.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/08/2016 03:27AM by the1v.

Yes. For a long time we had weekly service projects in most cities I was in. In one city, we did our service at the zoo. Scrubbing out penguin s--- was better than missionary work!

Oh, of course.
I always volunteered to do the shopping. Or the laundry. Or anything to not tract.

In my 2nd city, the Sr. companion of the other pair in the apartment was "short," going home in a few weeks after I arrived. Three days before he left, he asked to switch companions for a day, to do with me. After the other pair left, he told me to get ready for a long bike ride, and to break some mission rules -- we were going to ride to the Normandy coast (I was in Caen at the time) and see the English Channel and the WWII cemetery at Arrowmanches. "Cool," I said.

He replied, "See, that's why I switched out for you today. I knew you'd go with me. My stick-in-the-mud Nazi companion would have ratted me out!"

:)