Realizing Reality

Ik ben een echte person. I'm a real person.

Sometimes, when we go to the store, the cashier is not really a person to us. S/he is a cashier. We don't think of them as people with lives who have places to be, things to do, families to raise, lunches to take. We just think of them as the people we have to go to and pay for stuff, and sometimes argue with about prices.

At least, that was the way I thought of them. Before I became one.

I feel that the same goes for missionaries. We don't look at them as people who have a family at home, who had a life before the mission field, who may have left behind college scholarships or significant others or dying grandfathers and other familial issues to come out and do what they believe is the most rewarding service for the Lord. We don't look at them as people who could have our same music taste or like the same T.V. shows as us. If we're LDS, we see missionaries as "Wooo Elders! (/sisters)." If we're not LDS, we see the missionaries as white shirted, tie wearin, bike ridin, door knockin pests who have no feelings, and almost no humanity. Well, maybe not always. But the bottom line is, we don't see them as people. We see them as missionaries.

My sister asked me the other day if I was going to care about real things when I was away. Should she write me about how things were at home or did I only care about spiritual experiences?

Let me tell you something: I will still be me when I am on my mission. I will still be the music blastin, Gilmore Girl lovin, letter pranking, sarcastic quippin, baby fawnin friend, sister, daughter, aunt and person, even though I may not be able to do some of those things in the field. I will still be the girl who belts out "Defying Gravity" as if I'm performing for a large group of people (but it'll probably be some sort of hymn, instead.) I will still be the girl who laughs at stupid things and then tries to get other people to think they're funny. I will still be the girl who loves all things crafty, who still appreciates the starlit sky, and who still wonders and hopes about and for the world.

When I'm in the field, of course I'm going to need extra build ups of faith and self confidence. Of course I'm going to want to hear about your spiritual experiences to fuel my hopeful motivations. But I also want to know when my nephew tries to teach my newborn niece how to laugh. I want to know when my other nephew monopolizes the T.V. all morning to watch the same episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse six times. I want to hear all about my friends who are just entering or transferring to another college--how are the roommates? Do they respond well to the crazy pranks we talked about you pulling? Are the classes good? How are the professors? Is the food hardcore terrible or do you think you'll make it through? Are you putting yourself out there to make friends or are you just hoping they'll find you? Because we've already talked about how that doesn't work. I want to hear about the things that make you laugh. About the things that make you cry. About the things that inspire you. About the things that scare you. I want to hear that you learned a new song on guitar. I want to be let in on the things of your heart. And dangit, I want to hear about the dumb things you go through at work, because although I complain about hearing those stories day after day, I know that I'm going to miss them.

People don't respond well to fake, which is awesome, because I am terrible at being fake as it is. I feel like missionaries think they have to be fake because they feel that they have to leave their real self behind, but all I'm leaving behind are wasteful hobbies and excess fluff. I'm leaving behind the things that hide who I really am--a soul that radiates with faith and burns with passion and love for the gospel of Jesus Christ. I'm leaving behind the things that mask my desire for proclaiming truth. I am leaving behind the bushel that I sometimes hide my light under. But I am not leaving behind my personality in the slightest. I will still be me.

I will try not to let "Tyffani" get in the way of "Zuster Hoff," but I will never stop striving for the impossible connection of being relatable and personable. I'll still find humor in unfortunate situations, give sass where applicable and do really poorly choreographed dances when I'm feeling the need to shake it out. I'll still share my thoughts and testimony as a real person. I will have to find the balance between my way and the Lord's way, but I have been called. I, Tyffani Hoff, am needed in Belgium and the Netherlands. So who I am isn't changing, it's just becoming better.