When my six sons were serving their missions, I wrote them a letter every week.  I thought that it was important for them to get a weekly letter, so I don’t think that I ever missed.  That means that they each received approximately 100 letters from me during their two years of service.  Those letters were a double blessing.  They got the news from home, and I now have a record of those years of my life because I put copies in my journal.

I didn’t think of it at the time, but I was casting my bread upon the waters.  Ecclesiastes 11:1 says:  “Cast thy bread upon the waters; for thou shalt find it after many days.”

Alma says it better.  He says:  “For that which ye do send out shall return unto you again, and be restored…”  (Alma 41:15).

I call that “the law of the boomerang.”

The tables have now turned.  I’m the one who’s on a mission.  The boomerang is on its return journey.  Some of my sons are returning the favor by writing to me every week.  Others rarely write.  While on their missions, they anxiously awaited my letters.  Now I’m the one who’s desperate to hear from home.

When my sons were serving their missions, they missed home.  They counted the months and the days left until they could go home.  The tables have turned again.  I’m the one on the mission, and I’m counting the months until I can go home and see those that I love.  I’m enjoying my service, but I’m anxious to see the family that I haven’t seen and embraced for two years.

Is this like our relationship with our Father in Heaven?  We left His home to serve our missions on earth.  We were each sent to a specific place with some specific purposes to bless some specific lives.  Our Father remains in constant touch with us, but many of us fail to write back.  Many of His children have completely forgotten Him, and never pray.  Others send back short, thoughtless, newsless, disappointing communications.  Some are anxious to return home.  Others have forgotten all about their origins.  Few of us are counting the days until we have the privilege of returning home, because we like where we are; but I wonder if we shouldn’t be looking forward to that event as eagerly as we look forward to the other grand events that we anticipate in our lives.

I picture my Father in Heaven sending out constant messages to me.  He is more anxious about me than I am about my son who is presently serving his mission in Chile.  Because of where I am, I can’t send actual, physical letters to my son and have any assurance that he’s going to ever get them.  He certainly wouldn’t get the letter in a week or a month like my other sons did, but now we have a better system available.  I can send an email to him, and be perfectly assured that when he sits down at a computer once every week, my letter will be waiting there for him to open.

I think that our Father in Heaven is like that.  He has sent personal messages to me that are just waiting there in the ether for me to open.  In fact, I think that there is probably a huge backlog of unopened mail.  Whenever I ask for information, I find that there is always a message already waiting.  It is just like king Benjamin said:  “…he doth immediately bless you…”  (Mosiah 2:24).

I send a weekly letter to my granddaughter, too.  She is presently serving her mission in the Carolinas.  Three generations of us are concurrently serving missions.  We all left in the same month.  Her mission is six months shorter than those of her uncle and grandparents, so she will be the first to return home.  The end of her mission is just three months away.  Her letters are now saying, “I love my mission.  I don’t want to go home!”

She’s like everyone else here in mortality.  We like earth life, and want it to continue.  However, neither earth life nor missions are our real lives or homes.  We go on missions for a predetermined time, and with predetermined release dates.  Our granddaughter knows her mission release date, and looks forward to it with a mixture of dread and gladness.

Similarly, each of us has a release date from mortality.  We don’t know that release date, but it’s certainly one that we should be preparing for.  Many people dread their release date.  Ignoring its approach is a short-sighted and stupid thing to do.  My release date might be 20 years in the future, or it might be in just 20 minutes.  The secret to being prepared is communication.

Unless my boys communicate with me, I can’t know what they’re thinking or what they’re excited about.  I won’t know what problems they are having, so I can’t offer any insights or advice or help.  But whenever they write, I always answer back.  If they ask me a question, I always answer.

They often don’t tell me about their problems and concerns.  I’m not omniscient like our Father in Heaven, so I can’t know about their challenges unless they tell me.  I can’t pray for them with any specificity.  I can only ask my Father to bless them.  One son, however, had some real concerns about his employment, and about the direction the rest of his life should take.  By email he asked me for a father’s blessing, though I was far away.  By email, I answered right back.  It was like laying my hands upon his head even though he was many thousands of miles away.  I think that’s very like what our Father in Heaven does.  He answers immediately, and it’s as if He was standing right behind us with His hands upon our heads.

Our prayers need to be specific.  Then the Lord is able to answer specifically.

Our prayers need to be frequent.  Then we’re able to maintain a constant two-way relationship.

Our communications with our father need to be regular so that he’s not left wondering about us.  He should not have to do all the corresponding.