A Different Kind of Mission

A Different Kind of Mission
By Lena Mattice

When my son was a junior in high school, he told me he wanted to play college football. I smiled and told him, “Okay—but it’s going to take a lot of work.” I asked, “And,What about serving a mission?” We talked about different scenarios, wondering if a college might let him serve and then return to play. But we had no idea where to even begin in getting colleges to notice him.

His coach mentioned a football camp three hours away. So we drove, and he participated. A few coaches took interest and said they’d be watching his senior year. But that senior year was right after COVID. Schedules were unpredictable, and opportunities were uncertain. We still didn’t know who to talk to or how to get his name out there.

Then, during Homecoming week, the team we were scheduled to play had to cancel due to a COVID outbreak. His coach jumped on Twitter, trying to find a replacement team. He found one—but they were two divisions above ours. We needed a game, so the coach said yes.

Our team fought hard, and my son played one of the best games of his life.

After the game, a man approached him. “I heard your coach say you want to play college ball,” he said. “Contact this guy—he can help.” That connection changed everything. Soon, my son was visiting colleges and exploring his options.

In January, we flew to Kansas to visit Fort Hays State University. As we stood in the stadium, I asked him, “Can you see yourself playing on this field?” He looked around and said, “Yeah, I can.” The campus had a small-town, down-to-earth feel—so familiar and comfortable, it almost felt like home. But still, he wanted to be sure.

That night, the players took him out to parties to show him the “fun” side of college football. But my son wasn’t comfortable with the scene. One of the players noticed and asked, “This isn’t really your thing, is it?” My son said no—and the player arranged for someone to take him home. That moment reaffirmed what he already knew: he was there for football, not the lifestyle around it.

The next weekend, we visited a college in Minnesota. It was freezing cold for our Arizona-born son. Standing in that stadium, I asked again, “Can you see yourself playing here?” He shook his head. “Not really.” I smiled. “Sounds like you have your answer.”

On the way home, the Kansas coach texted: “Are you ready to be a Tiger?” I asked my son what he thought. He paused, then said, “Mom, I think that’s where I’m supposed to go.”

In February, he signed with Fort Hays State.

We knew that committing to football meant he wouldn’t be serving a traditional full-time mission. When his friends started receiving mission calls, I asked if he was sad. He smiled and said, “No, Mom. I got my call—just in a different way.” And in my heart, I knew he was exactly where the Lord needed him.

We discovered there was a ward just a couple miles from campus. My son was skeptical when I said they’d take care of him. But I had faith. That first Sunday, while I spoke to the bishop with my son, my husband sat in a pew. A woman turned around and struck up a conversation. She mentioned she had family in a tiny northern Arizona town. My husband grinned. “That’s where my wife is from!” It turns out, I knew her grandmother, and her mom remembered my dad. Dave and Gina Lay have become my son’s parents away from home—another tender mercy.

Just a week after moving in, he was helping families move into the ward—including the new bishop and a counselor. I laughed and said, “See? Heavenly Father knew you needed to meet people—so He sent them to you.”

He was soon called to serve in the Young Men organization. Several moms told me how much they appreciated having him there. “He’s not just another adult telling them how to live,” one said. “He’s a cool football player living his dream and living the gospel.” He also helps teach seminary and talks to youth about peer pressure—something he faces firsthand on campus and on the field. His team knows he doesn’t drink or party. Some have even told him their perspective on members of the Church has changed—for the better.

Once, when anti-Church content started popping up on his social media, he felt prompted to ask the missionaries about some of the things he was seeing. Just days later, a student who often tried to challenge his beliefs asked him a pointed question about the Church. Because he had just talked to the missionaries, he was ready with an answer. I told him, “Heavenly Father prepared you to help that young man.” Later, someone in my ward said, “Maybe that’s the only way that student would get the answer—through your son.”

That’s when I truly realized: my son is on a mission.

Not the traditional kind—but a mission just the same. He’s planting seeds, standing as a witness, and shining his light in ways we never could have imagined. And most importantly, his own testimony has grown. He is truly converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Sometimes, God calls His missionaries to football fields instead of foreign countries. And my son is answering that call, one yard at a time.