Robbin J. Peterson - Conviction

September 2, 2013

I stared down forty thousand miles and tried to swallow the dread that had lodged itself in the back of my throat. Bretts large shoulders bumped mine as he shifted to get the middle seat to lean back more. Wed been in the air for over two hours, and although my legs werent nearly as large or long as Bretts, they were beginning to feel cramped.

Are you nervous? Brett asked.

I shrugged. For someone who had pretty much ignored me my whole life, he was sure chatty now that we were missionary companions. Hed let me have the window seat because it was my first time on an airplane, and hed found a place for my heavy backpack in the overhead. It made it hard to pretend he wasnt there, forget where I was going, and who I was with.

Why? Are you nervous? I asked, still staring out the window.

Sure, he said. Ukraine is the real deal. What if we get with companions who are jerks? What if people dont want to listen to us? What ifhe paused dramaticallyall the girls are ugly? He grinned. Admit it. Youre also afraid of that.

I didnt answer or even smile. My fears had nothing to do with girls.

It had been easy the past twelve weeks in the MTC to go along with Bretts energetic charisma that plowed over everything in his path, but today, I couldnt do it anymore. Maybe it was because today, leaving for Ukraine, being alone for the first time with Brett, everything had finally come to a head. He didnt know anything about me or what Id done; if he did, hed probably tackle me right here and leave me to die. Sometimes I wished he would just so I wouldnt have to face the guilt that constantly tore at my insides when he was around.

For what had to be the tenth time, he asked, Dont you think its weird were serving in the same mission, leaving the same day?

Yeah. This time, I gave a small chuckle and looked at him. His head was back, and he was staring at the ceiling. I knew what he really meant was it was weird that two people in our tiny ward, from our small town of Standish, were leaving to serve a mission on the same day. Not that it was weird that he was serving with me .

But really, it was more than weird that he was serving with me.

The fact that it was him out of the fifty thousand other elders serving around the world was more than crazy coincidence. My original decision to put my papers in had had as much to do with escaping him as pleasing my mom. It was as if the Lord had sifted through a bag of really good punishments, pulled out Brett Tysons name, and said, Ah, yeah, this is gonna be good.

God knew what Id done. Hed inspired Salt Lake to put me with Brett. I knew how Jonah felt when he was swallowed by the whale. The second Bretts call came to the same mission Id been called to, I knew there was no running from my problems, there was no running from the Lord.

Hed find me.

Brett was my whale.

But to be honest, which was not one of my strengths, it wasnt totally Gods fault I was here. There were a thousand moments I could have refused the mission call. But for reasons I still couldnt explain, I was in an airplane rocketing toward Ukraine. I was like one of our cattle, voluntarily getting on a truck that would take me to my death. Maybe it was because not going would mean seeing the hurt on my moms face, something Id successfully hidden from since last November.

The pilot interrupted my thoughts, announcing we were beginning our descent into Chicago. I felt for the belt buckle and tightened it, pressing myself into the back of my seat. There was a tug on my stomach and pressure in my ears as we circled around and came lower.

Brett leaned his large frame forward and rested his head against the seat in front of him. Hey. He waited until I met his eyes. You doing okay?

I rubbed my prickling thumbs together. Sure.

He looked past me and out the small window. You thought Salt Lake was a big city? What do you think of Chicago?

I stared outside as we descended even lower. I could see buildings as tall as mountains in the distance, surrounded by dark clouds and layers of smog.

The plane touched the runway, and my heart rate sped up with the thundering sound of the airplane braking. I gripped my hands in front of me and waited for the bumpy ride to end. When it finally did, my head swam with the lack of motion. A ding sounded as the seat-belt light flicked off and people came to life around us, standing and grabbing luggage from the overhead.

Brett stood and stretched up and over the sleeping man on the end to get our bags. Should I wake him? I asked, pointing at the man.

Brett tugged the bags down and handed me mine. Nah, that guy was drinking some expensive stuff. I wonder why he wasnt sitting first class. He stretched his legs out into the aisle. Id use my money for more legroom rather than booze.