He is with us

"He's Been There Before”

  The alarm rings at 6:30; I stumble to my feet                             

I grab my companions bedding and pull off his sheet                                   

A groan fills the room. "It's already time to arise?"

It seems like just a second ago I was able to shut my eyes.                            

The morning activities follow: study, prayer and such                       

When it's time to leave the apartment, you feel you haven't accomplished much

"We have a super day planned," my companion says with a grin.

I lowly utter a faithless breath, "Yeah if anyone lets us in."

With the word of God and my faithful Schwinn, we ride off in the street.

Prepared to face another day of humidity and heat

It's 9:30 in the evening the day is almost through

My companion and I are riding home, not accomplishing what we thought we do

We ride up to the mailbox hoping to receive a lot.

Only to look inside and hear my cool reverberate "AIRBOX"

We go up to our apartment; the day is now complete

The only thing to show for our work is a case of blistery feet

It's past 10:30 PM, my companion is fast asleep

Silence engulfs me all about and I begin to weep

In the midst of sadness I kneel down to pray;

I need to talk to father, but I'm not sure what to say

"Oh father," I begin, "what happened to us today?

I thought we'd teach somebody, but everyone was away

My hands, my aching hands warm, hurt and beat

If our area was any smaller, we'd have knocked on every street

Why on missions are the days so much alike?

The only difference about today was a flat tire on my bike.

Will you send some cooler weather? The heat is killing me!

I sweat so bad, it gets in my eyes. It's very hard to see.

Why do I have to wear a helmet, isn't your protection enough?

People always laugh at me and call me stupid stuff.

Please send us investigators so I may give them what they lack.

I want to give them the Book of Mormon; the weight of them hurts my back.

And what about my family? They don't have much to say.

I'm sick of not hearing from home day after day

Oh father, why am I here, am I just wasting my time?

Sometimes I just want to go home, I'm sorry but that's on my mind.

My companion, Heavenly Father, what are you giving me?

The way he rides his bicycle I don't know if he can even see!

Now you have it, I can't go on. I don't know what to do!

That, my father in heaven, is the prayer I leave you."

My prayer now finished I stand up, then jump right into bed.

I need my feet for tomorrow, we have another long day ahead

Sleep starts to overtake me, I seem to drift away.

Then it seems a vision takes me to another time in another day.

I'm standing alone on a hill, the view is very nice.

A man walks towards me and says, "My name is Jesus Christ."

Tears of joy well up inside, I fall down to his feet.

"Arise," he states, "follow me to the shade. You and I need to speak."

My attention towards my Savior, total and complete

He says, "Your mission is similar to what happened to me.

I understand how you feel, I know what you're going through.

In fact, it would be fair to say I felt the same as you.

I even know how you felt when no one listened to you

At times I felt not quite sure what else that I could do

I know you don't like to ride a bicycle for a car would be so sweet

Just remember the donkey I rode was not equipped was 21 speed.

                                                               

I understand you don't like sweating, in fact it's something to hate.                          

  I remember when I sweat blood from every pore, oh the agony was great.

 I see you don't like your companion you would rather have someone else.

 I once had a companion named Judas who sold my life for wealth

                            

It's hard to wear a helmet and have people make fun of you.

I remember when they put thorns in my head and called me king of the Jews.

So you feel burdened down by the weight of your pack.

I recall how heavy the cross was when they slammed it on my back.

Your hands hurt from tracting and knocking on doors all day.

I guess when they pounded nails into mine, I ached in a similar way.

It's hard not to hear from home when your family was not there to see.

I lost communication on the cross and cried, "Father why hast thou forsaken me?"

We have a lot in common, but there's a difference between us you see. 

I endured to the end and finish my mission, so follow and do like me."

 He embraced me with his arms, his light filled me with his love.

With tears in my eyes, I watched as he went back to the father above.

I stood with awe and wonder when the beep rang in my head.

I listened and heard the alarm, when I realized I was in my bed.

My companion lets out a groan, "6:30 already, no way!"

I sit up and say, "Come on, I'll even carry your scriptures today."

There are those days not just for missionaries that we all just want to through in the towel. Life is hard. But REMEMBER the words of the Savior, "I am with thee, even unto the end of thy days."

I am so grateful for my Savior and for the chance I have to walk with Him every day.