09/18/2026
He’s been gone 16 days, and he’s officially in Ohio now.
It’s taken me 16 days to be able to post this.
I expected to miss him. I didn’t expect to grieve him.
It’s a strange kind of grief because nothing is wrong. In fact, everything is right. He is exactly where he wants to be, doing exactly what I hoped he would have the courage and faith to do.
Someone called it “miserable joy.” I can’t think of a better way to describe it.
When we said goodbye at the MTC, I had this sudden realization: the next time I hug my 18-year-old son, he’ll be over 20.
And for some reason, that thought nearly undid me.
I’ve had daughters move far away. I thought that would have prepared me for this. But there is something different about knowing your child is stepping completely out of the life they know for two years—not because they have to, but because they believe there is something worth giving two years of their young life to.
Right now, young missionaries are scattered all over the world—learning new places, knocking on unfamiliar doors, missing home, being rejected, serving strangers, loving people they just met, and trying in their own imperfect way to bring a little more light into the world.
Whatever your faith looks like, I think there is something hopeful about young people willing to do that.
So if you pray, say one for them. For their courage when they feel inadequate. For comfort on the homesick days. For kind people to cross their paths. For their safety. And for the moms, dads, siblings and people at home learning how to love someone from very far away.
I know these two years will change him.
I didn’t realize how much sending him would change me, too.
Ohio, take care of my boy.
Godspeed, Elder Kassing. 🤍