Rough Around the Edges

Mission farewells are possibly my favorite. The summer after my Senior year of High School, boy, there was a lot of 'em. It was the summer after the age changed from 19 to 18 for guys to leave and there were weeks I was at 2-3 farewells instead of my own ward. These were all the guys I grew up with, some I barely knew and some who were my very best friends.

It was a typical Sunday. Trying to bounce from one Sacrament meeting to the next and make it on time to hear all my boys speak. This meeting started out pretty average; a hymn, opening prayer and the sacrament service, then a speaker and it was time for the missionary. FINALLY what I had come to hear.

 He was a football player, one I'd heard more about than I actually knew. I'd become better friends with him throughout my senior year but I'm not sure how justified I was in being there. He was tough. Maybe a little rough around the edges. In no way was I prepared for what he was about to say. I have no idea what the majority of his talk was about, probably Christ, his path to his mission, something along those lines (that's what they're all about right?). All I remember is the story he told. 

The story was called "The Room" By Joshua Harris. I had never heard the story before that day. But I remember listening to that boy who was a little rough around the edges tell this story. This AMAZING story of the Atonement made my eyes start to swell. Tears started rolling down my cheeks and it hit me harder than any hit that boy had taken in any game, and trust me, he was a line backer. Never had I known that literature, a story, a simple silly story, could make me feel what I was feeling. After that meeting I barely made time to say goodbye to him. I gave him a quick hug and rushed home, afraid the tears would come back.

 About a week later I looked that story up and read it again, and again, and again. Each time the story elicited the same response as it did that Sunday prior. To this day it is a story I hold close to my heart.