When I was a missionary, I thought it would be fun to be called as the mission secretary. That was basically the executive secretary for the mission president. In many missions today, that role is filled by a senior couple. But in my mission, it was an elder, probably because the senior couples did not speak German.
At one point, the current secretary had been there for several months, and I knew the mission president would be changing secretaries soon. But a new secretary was called, and it was not me. I remember being disappointed, even though I probably tried not to show it.
A few months later, in the April 1988 mission newsletter (Amo Servitum) distributed at zone conference, where the missionaries in the mission office each contributed a short entry on the back page, the current mission secretary (Elder Walhood) jokingly announced that he was accepting applications to replace him. His request stated that resumes and pictures were required, and that bribes might help.
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| Elder Walhood's job posting |
I thought I would still like to be the mission secretary, so I decided to apply.
Since there was no actual application, I made my own. I created a form with blank fields for name, interests, address, background, and so on. Then I filled it out using a crayon.
Unfortunately, I did not keep a copy.
A few weeks earlier, my dad had bought a new pickup truck. As a joke, he sent pictures of the engine, the inside of the door, the instrument panel, and the gearshift, but never a picture of the whole truck. Some of the pictures were a bit blurry as the camera focus was not set correctly.
In my application letter, I wrote that the job posting said to send pictures, but did not specify what kind. So, I included a few of my own.
I enclosed those same random pictures of the inside of my dad’s truck.
I bundled it all together and mailed it to the mission office, addressed to Elder Walhood.
Later that month, I received a letter calling me to be the next mission secretary. I was honestly surprised and could not help but wonder if my application had something to do with it. Either way, it worked. I was also pretty excited. It was something I had wanted to do, even if you are not supposed to want specific callings. More than anything, I think I was happy that the effort meant something. It felt like it had been seen.
I still have the calling letter from President Burton.
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| Mission Secretary Calling President Warren L. Burton Munich, 21 April 1988 |
A few weeks after I arrived in the mission office, the mission president, my companion, and the assistants to the president all had a good laugh about the application and their reaction when they first opened it. Apparently, it stood out. President Burton even mentioned in the letter that it was unusual to receive applications at all, let alone one like mine. That fit him well. He had a great sense of humor and brought that into the way he led the mission.
My only regret is that I did not keep a copy of the application or the pictures I sent. It would be a fun thing to have now.
I have thought about that experience many times since. Sometimes it seems like small, even slightly ridiculous efforts, end up opening doors. At the very least, they make you harder to overlook.
A few weeks after I left the mission office, President Burton sent me a letter. I had not thought much about my time there until I read it. It made me realize that the experience had mattered in ways I had not fully seen at the time.
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| Thank You Letter President Warren L. Burton Munich, 13 November 1988 |
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| Amo Servitum Back Page April 1988 |
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