This never actually happened to me, but as I served as a missionary, I heard countless stories of a single source of dread at the Provo, Utah, Missionary Training Center.
It wasn't the homesickness. It wasn't receiving the "Dear John" from a girlfriend. It wasn't the food. Well, it was the food — just hours later.
It was the post-dining experiences that seemed to create a common bond among missionaries, sometimes discussed at length and for years afterward.
I think the prophet Jeremiah sums it up best.
Jeremiah 4:19
"My bowels, my bowels! I am pained at my very heart; my heart maketh a noise in me; I cannot hold my peace, because thou hast heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet..."
Thanks to Keith for reminding me how much this verse really sings.
2 comments:
wow. you and amelia....
farts.
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