Airport was a hassle. Said my bags weighted too much, so rather than pay a fine, I took some of the books out and Mom and Dad took them home. I cannot believe I am going to New York. I always thought maybe I'd go somewhere exotic on mission, like Jamaica or South America or China or Russia, but New York? I might have plenty of other opportunities to go to New York. A reminder, maybe, that the point of mission is not to give me an exciting time in a far-off land, but to introduce people to the church. Later on the Plane
There is some turbulence, but at least I am not stuck in some airport on layover. The person next to me has purple hair and an eyebrow ring and says she lives in Greenwich Village. I wonder who she had been visiting in Utah. Her name in Denise, and she asked why I was coming to New York. I tried to explain, but I don't think she got it. "Oh, but I believe in the Bible," she said. So I took out the Pearl of Great Price and the Book of Mormon to show her it was different from her Bible, but I didn't make any headway. If I can't convince, or even explain what I am doing, to a captive audience on a plane, how am I going to be effective stationed at a subway or college campus in the middle of New York? Perhaps I should think that God has worked through many missionaries successfully before, so I might be successful too. But also I know people who returned from six months--six months!!!--trying to help people be Mormons with no success! No success at all.