Taste of Home

Dear The One,

The air smells differently coming through my window. Fresher and cleaner than any I’ve ever smelled before. No cool night’s highway air, or fresh mountain breeze stands out like it does. Perhaps this is because of the crabapple tree tucked right up against the house: the only view my window offers. Maybe it’s pure nostalgia. Either way, this air is the purest I’ve tasted. It comes from home.

Home.

I’ll be leaving soon. Off on my own in this scary world.

I mean, really leaving. I’m going away for two years to preach the gospel of Christ. I’m scared. Scared in a way I’ve never known before. Not scared of the plane ride (never been on one before) or the new place. Not scared of living on my own. I’m scared of putting my whole world on hold.

I have been so focused on the idea of a family all my life. All of it. Being in a world where, as a missionary, dating is highly discouraged? Even the idea of it? Mission rules say not to even hug girls. Woah. But I know I’m not the first to face this challenge; I’m committed to living it and doing as missionaries do.

The worst is not knowing who I’ll come back to. How could I dare to ask a girl to wait two years for me? Isn’t going on a mission my choice? Have I any right to tell a woman to turn her heart off and sit tight till I get back? Nay.

I guess that’s why I have you. Nameless and formless as you are to me, you know who you are.

I want in on the secret.

A secret I can’t learn for at least another two years.

But what’s it to me? I’m on The Lord’s errand. And if there’s anything I know about you, it’s that you love God. You are obedient to His commandments. You will love me for doing His work.

I will go and do as The Lord commands.

Then this Mr. Go and Do will become Mr. Went and Did. I will make it a symbol of how I will act the rest of my life. If there is anything you can trust me to be, it’s honorable, honest, and true. If not, then I’m not the man for you.

Would it be a good time to list all my faults?

I’m tasting that air again. I really think it’s the crabapple tree. I don’t dare admit that this could be the scent of home.

Sincerely,

Aaron

P.S. I suppose I should have mentioned this whole traveling thing sooner…