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Monday, April 15, 2013

POINT: DON’T TELL MY PARENTS, BUT I’M NOT ALL THAT GLAD TO BE HOME FROM MY MISSION / COUNTERPOINT: DON’T TELL OUR SON, BUT WE’RE NOT ALL THAT GLAD HE’S HOME FROM HIS MISSION.


POINT: DON’T TELL MY PARENTS, BUT I’M NOT ALL THAT GLAD TO BE HOME FROM MY MISSION
David Turner, Meriden, CT

I got home from my mission to Thailand about a two weeks ago, and please don’t tell my parents but I’m not that glad to be home. I cannot believe how excited I was those last few weeks of my mission and when I landed, but let me just say that after about two hours, I feel incredibly let down. For one thing, the music that my siblings listen to—if I hear that “Gangnam Style” song one more time, I’m going to Korea myself to punch that guy in the throat. Oh, and look what else the devil made while I was gone—Lil Wayne, Nicki Minaj, and something called a Ke$ha. 

Mom and Dad are great, and I love being back with them, but even they are starting to get on my nerves. I’m grateful that they have such strong testimonies, but it is funny that we don’t have family home evening but they do DVR The Bachelor and Dancing with the Stars like it is General Conference. And don’t get me started about the dishonesty, pride, and sin in that Downton Abbey show—I think that that one guy died as a punishment from God! It is nice to get home to mom’s spaghetti and lasagna, but I had forgotten about her famous Tuna Casserole Delight. Choking that down with some repulsive Bruno Mars song playing in the background is worse than ten hours in an MTC classroom with nine other gassy missionaries. 

Now I am home, I’m bilingual, and I have international travel experience, so guess what?—I have my pre-mission job back at Coldstone. Three weeks ago I was bringing the eternal blessings of the gospel to God’s children, and now I’m bringing a three-scoop-cake-batter-ice cream-brownie-with-extra-cookie-dough-triple-fudge-and-extra-nuts-Gotta-Have-It catastrophe to glassy eyed gluttons who could not care less about “that Jesus stuff.” And I get to sing for them. So I think we are safe in saying that I’m not glad about what I’m “Called to Serve” now. 

At least I’m going off to school in a few weeks. In all honesty, I hope I can find a good wife, and after getting along with so many missionaries that I didn’t get to pick, marriage will be a piece of cake. Can’t wait for that!


COUNTERPOINT: DON’T TELL OUR SON, BUT WE’RE NOT ALL THAT GLAD HE’S HOME FROM HIS MISSION
Mike and Lisa Turner, Meriden, CT

Father with Prodigal Clownfish
David got home from his mission ten days ago, and please don’t tell him, but we’re not all that glad that he’s home. We felt such a loss when he left, and of course we were worried about him, but now…well let’s just say that since he found the International Market, our house smells like a Southeast Asian street market. I just want to tell him, “we eat Rice-a-Roni because we like Rice-a-Roni!” And we are glad that he speaks Thai, but really, he can’t just say “The Book of Mormon” anymore? Personally I don’t think that prayer is any less sincere if you say it so that everyone understands. And if we have to hear about that “amazing family in my second area” again, I might just take a baseball bat to him in his sleep.

We are glad that he’s trying to reconnect with his 13-year old brother, Ryan. But let’s just say that that has had a rocky start. The movie they tried to watch didn’t go so well once David tried to explain how God the Father, like the Father in the story of the Prodigal Son, is searching for our lost souls, “still colorful with the stripes of false, worldly pride” as fervently as Nemo’s father was searching for him. Ryan wanted to watch Avengers, but he said that his “brother would just say that the whole thing is about lust, greed, anger, and iniquity. Oh, and don’t even think about Skyfall!”

He is off for school pretty soon, and hopefully that will go well.  Still, we hope he isn’t so full of hope and faith that he thinks that “following the Lord’s will” and getting married will solve all his problems—he does seem to have some unrealistic ideas.  

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