We were just about to leave for a Little League game yesterday when we heard a knock on the door. I peaked through the side window and saw two men in white shirts, ties, and dark pants. It was them. It was the missionaries from my last post I thought would probably never actually come and visit. They drove out to our neighborhood and stopped by our house unexpectedly.
I told Brian I would get the door because it was the Mormon missionaries. I took a breath and opened the door. "Hello! How are you guys!"
I stared at two guys. One looked to be your typical young Mormon straight from the motherland in Utah: short blondish-brown hair, tall, pale skin, thin, perfect white teeth, and blue eyes (like me, but more of that Utah glow I suppose). He seemed nervous and I could tell he must have been a greenie. The other, obviously the senior companion, was a bigger guy, black, shorter than his companion, and probably not from Utah.
"Hi! Is there an Evan here?"
It wasn't a scripted response. I noticed their silver car parked in front. They weren't just perusing the neighborhood. They wanted to see me.
"Yes, that's me."
As Brian was holding Shadow back in the hallway, they introduced themselves to me.
"Hi, I'm Elder A___ and this is my companion Elder T___."
I shook each of their hands and said it was nice to meet them. Then there was a little bit of an awkward silence. I couldn't invite them in because we were about to leave, so I was waiting for them to say the next thing so I could explain that we were just about to head out the door.
"We were just checking in and wondering if we could talk with you."
"We are about to leave actually, but I would not mind visiting with you guys another time."
"Sure, we can do that. When are you available?"
I looked back at Brian. "When is our next free date?"
Today (Thursday) we are going to a birthday dinner for one of the boys. Friday we may be going to a playoff game. There is another game on Saturday and that is the day we also try to catch up on everything around the house and spend time with friends we never get to see. What about Sunday? Do missionaries even do this kind of thing on Sundays? Maybe not.
After thinking my schedule out loud while looking at Brian, I eventually responded. "How about Monday. I get home around 5:30 everyday. So any time after that is fine."
"Sure. Is 6 okay?"
"Yeah, that will work. It was good seeing you two."
"Ok. I hope you have a nice evening. We'll see you next week."
As they walked back to their car, I noticed how hot and humid it was outside. That poor greenie from Utah is definitely not used to this weather.
"Do you guys need a bottle of water or anything?"
"No we are fine. Have a good evening."
I closed the door and looked at Brian. "I can't believe they drove out this way without giving us any warning. I feel bad that they wasted their time."
"Well, they probably should have called ahead of time. Should we hold hands next time they visit?"
I never went on a mission, but I would go out with the missionaries to talk with potential converts a few times in the past. Seven years ago, I could not have pictured myself being on the other side of the door.
I am not sure what I am going to say to them or what they want to say to me. I will probably respond with a simplified version of my last post. But outside of that, I am not sure. I do not want to shove my issues in their face, but I do want to be honest. And no, Brian and I won't be holding hands.