i love my mish, what about you? ;)

There are a lot of followers and authors! We just need to get a-rolling on writing!
Well, my missionary's name is Elder [Ryan] Duvall. We met in our English 101 class at BYU-Idaho our first semester, freshman year. I was then dating a guy from high school and being in and out of abuse, but dealing with it and to be honest, I was scared to get out of it. Sadly, I was desperate. In this class, Ryan was sitting in front of us and he always would try to engage in conversation that a friend of mine and I always had prior to the start of class.
After the October General Conference, I made the long-distance call to the high school boyfriend and got the guts to break-up with him. I knew it would be hard, but was much needed. Funny enough, I started liking other guys (as is only natural). So, I had even more interesting stories to tell my friend prior to class. Ryan had liked and taken other girls out on dates. I, personally, had no interest in him as I thought he was annoying. How, how little did I know...
About two weeks later, we were assigned together in a group for a project. I was not excited at all. Ryan ended up forgetting about the first group meeting, and I was assigned to make the phone call/text to see where he was. Interestingly enough, he forgot to give us his cell number. So, I had to dig up his school email and hope that he would respond. Within the half-hour, he had responded and apologized for not being there. He had had a crummy day as he had burned the brownie treat for his FHE family (as he was the dad) and then he forgot about the meeting...Life in his world was just great. haha. (What a joke!)
I guess I wasn't mean enough as I let him off easy and offered to help teach him how to do simple brownies from a box. After that, we talked more and visited each other and became the best of friends. The rest is history as we eventually ended up dating the next semester before he left. And now, here I am with 17 months left to go and hearing from him in his weekly, personal, handwritten letters couldn't make me any happier.

I love my missionary because he helps me realize the eternal perspective on life and that I am a daughter of God with great potential. Never before had I had a young man tell me that and truly mean it. So, those weeks that I have had and (sadly will) most likley have again, are hard, but as I reread those letters of months gone by, I know of his love as well as the Savior's. Missionary work is of God. It helps create the men of this dispensation that this world needs.