Missionary Training Center. That’s what MTC stands for, right? Well, it depends on you.
I remember in a previous ward where we lived, around the time a young man was about to leave on a mission, his younger sister was worried because she thought her brother was going to the Empty Sea. You know, that big, vast, scary waterless ocean? That’s what she thought until her dad sat her down and gave her a little better explanation.
Then there’s the teenager who thinks that MTC stands for My Trial’s Coming. A mission is an ominous, mysterious obligation to outwardly anticipate but to inwardly dread. No fun.
And what about the moms? Some think it’s short for Mother’s Torture Chamber. It’s where they separate from their babies. Which is really hard. (It’s not so easy for the dads either.)
Finally, there’s the dedicated missionary, the one who’s there because she wouldn’t rather be any other place in the world, the one who willingly forgets how to complain, the one who feels the Spirit so strong that she finally feels like she’s found home. For such a missionary, MTC means My Time with Christ.
Your definition of MTC might be different than others’, depending on where you are in your life. It’s not so much a matter of age or station, but it has a lot to do with attitude and spirit, two things that determine what road you’ll travel.
I prefer the high road. The view’s a lot better. The road signs are much easier to read. And there’s always 24-hour roadside service. And no matter what, you’ll always arrive at your destination in one piece.