What message are we sending?

The very foundation of my beliefs as an LDS mom is that I can always repent of any mistakes I have made because Jesus Christ made that possible for me. I have been taught that it doesn’t matter how bad I have messed up, it can all be fixed, it can all be forgotten, and life will go on just as normally as the family next door. If I give the Savior everything I have, He will make up the difference.  But I feel an entirely different message is sent to a missionary that messes up – whether he messed up before he left or while he was out in the field it doesn’t matter.  The message we send to a missionary is just the opposite of what we teach.  We say “oh well, nice try but you aren’t good enough to be out here so we’re sending you back home.” 

When the church “raised the bar” a few years ago, many of us sat in our homes while listening to conference and applauded that decision because we knew that some of “those parents with those kids” had missionaries serving that perhaps had no business being out there.   I was one of them and I have learned a very humbling lesson.  But a funny thing happens to those kids- and these are kids we are dealing with. While they may not have been perfect when they were ripped from their mothers arms out of a moving vehicle at the MTC, they certainly come to understand in a matter of days the importance of the work they are going to do for two years and they actually get excited about it.  And then a stranger thing happens. These boys have a fire that begins to burn inside of them and they want to convert every living creature in their path because of the conviction they feel inside their souls.  I’m convinced it’s why these young men raise their hands and say, “I messed up and I can’t live with this burden anymore.” But then it’s too late. Instead of someone wrapping their arms around them and saying, “You can be forgiven, life can go on, and your desire to serve is still important,” they are sent home where 80% of these elders will fall away from the church.  My son is part of that 80% and that will break my heart for as long as I’m on this earth.  But I have to wonder if anyone realizes what a high statistic that number is and what can we do to bring it to zero?