Phone Call

Celebrating [after]!

Palms sweating. Stomach dancing. Mind rehearsing the scripted conversation. It won't be any easier later. Might as well do it now.

I dial his number from my address book. And then hang up.

Ok, no I'm really ready now. That was a test, only a test.

My thumb presses the green call button on my Blackberry, instantly redialing the last number I called. It's ringing now. No turning back. I hear a "Hello?" on the other line. I summon the courage to reply with what would normally be a reflexive response.

"Hey Dad."

He sounds happy to hear from me. He tells me how excited he is for me to be home soon. As he starts to tell me how well the garden is doing, I remember one (out of many) piece of advice I received from my friends. "Don't shoot the breeze," the boys in UP 2 stressed. "It'd be like calling up a girl to ask her out, and then start to ask her how her day has been. You both know you don't really care."

Well, yeah I guess I can't really concentrate on what he's saying, because all that's on my mind is the lead-in to my...

"And the tomatoes should be in their second week while you're here, so you can look forward to eating some fresh home-grown to-"

Aah but I can't just interrupt him!

So we keep talking.

"And you should see how much Gizmo is shedding! Libby is constantly finding more hair to vacuum-"

Dad I have something important to tell you!

"-and it is just so hot. Ninety-eight degrees I think the weatherman said the other day. What's the weather like up there for you guys?"

"Uh...it's pretty cold, actually, Dad. It's been raining a lot and so the valley cools off pretty quickly. I have to wear a long sleeve shirt when I run in the mornings, before I warm up."

I think I'm about to puke.

"My goodness I can't believe that."

Or faint.

Silence.

Or die a premature death.

"Well, we really are looking forward to having you home for a bit." His voice has those end-of-the-conversation tones. I realize if I don't say something now, it would be pretty awkward to call back in five.

"Dad, can I talk to you about something?" Oh please don't have that worried tone in your voice when you say 'yes.'

"Sure," he replies nonchalantly. Ok...good start...

"So...Dad, you know how much joy learning about Christ has brought me," I read off my sincere but pre-written message on yellow card stock, "so I've decided to...serve a mission at the end of the summer." I look at the next item on my script - "[Dad yells here]" followed by answers to questions I anticipate him asking "[A. Student Loan Deferrment? B. Insurance Coverage? C.
Why are you taking a year and a half off of college? D....]"

Deep breath.

"Ok," he says.

"What?" escapes with my breath. "You aren't going to yell? Dad, I hadn't planned what to say right now, I thought you'd be yelling."

He laughed. K is Dad seriously laughing right now?

Is this the same Dad who, after I told him I was coming to BYU, told me I would have to pay for my own everything (minus insurance)? The Dad who afterwards called up my mom to yell at her, to tell her how stubborn "her daughter" was? Maybe he doesn't know it's for the same Church that funds my university. Maybe he thinks I converted to Buddhism while I was over in Japan.

But no, he knows. And the only proper way to describe him is, softened. We talk for another good fifteen minutes, and I am taken aback at how "cool" he is with it.

"Stefanie, we're all put on this earth to figure out what God wants us to do here. My path isn't
going to be the same as your path. I taught you to make your own decisions, and to be responsible for the consequences."

Yay!

"Now, I'm just concerned about you graduating from college and being able to support yourself."

Oh, no worries Dad. I think about that all the time...

So, my Dad knows a lot. Maybe he's seen that the decisions I've made really have turned out for good for me. Case in point is BYU - I don't think I've ever been happier. I love my university, the Spirit felt in my classes and in devotionals and in the air on campus. I love the mountains. I love my friends. I love how much closer I've grown to my family by being here, despite (or maybe because of) me being further away.

What my dad doesn't know, however, is of years petitioning the Lord to soften his heart. Especially leading up to this time of telling him about my decision to serve a full-time mission for the Lord. Friends would ask, "Stefanie that's so great you're serving a mission - what do your parents think?" Laughter would follow my "They don't know yet" reply. I was afraid. I was afraid of that scripted response of yelling, but mostly of disappointing my Dad. And while I'm not naive enough to think my dad is proud of my decision to serve, I know the Lord will answer my prayers in providing a way to bless my dad - and the rest of my splendid family - through my missionary service. He's already heard my pleas to soften his heart.