Along for the Ride

This week has been solid. Ensenada has been cold for four weeks since our only baptism, but all of the sudden the fruits of our labor are finally coming to bloom.

Elder Ponce engineered a Noche de Cine for a ward activity to watch kung fu panda. Obedient, disobedient, I don´t really know. And I can´t exactly express my concerns. So I washed my hands of the situation and just buckled down for the ride.

"Elder Jensen:

Along for the ride"

I like to compare my experience to the first transfer to wake boarding. Only my wrists are tied to the boat. Whether I´m in the wake cruising, or being dragged behind, the boat is going. Indeed, along for the ride.

Anyways, I had my doubts about cinema night. But about half the ward showed up, to my surprise, and two of our most important progressing investigators.

Hmno Marchoni tried to write a welcome message in English on the blackboard at the entrance to the chapel. Turned into something like "Welcome to night of the home" or something like that. Not sure where that was derived from still...

Anyways the night was a huge success. Except in the closing moments of the film, torrents of rain started falling outside. Not rain in the typical sense. Rain like I had never seen before. Like that one time that we were in Nauvoo and it started pouring. Worse than that. So bad we couldn´t hear anything above the sound of water crashing into the steel roof.

So we ended up waiting for our investigators to hire a cab. And didn´t get back to the pension at 11.

When we arrived, the main floor of our pension was soaked in water, minor flooding. I don´t keep any of my things on the floor, and they pretty much designed to flood. They´re tile and angled down toward a drain. Complete with a squeegee (spelling) and everything. Flooding is kind of expected here.

That night Elder Wells called with the transfers. Elder Ponce had told me he didn´t think he was going anywhere, and I had confidence. He had 8 months already in Ensenada. There was no reason to believe he would head out now. As he read the list of transfers our entire district was turned upside down. It reminded me of the MTC days when every week another group of our best friends flew out. Amidst the radical changes, I was grateful I had finally settled into Ensenada, found my place with Elder Ponce. And then, it happened.

"And Elder Ponce," read Elder Wells, "You're going to report to Romero on Monday"

And just like that, everything was upside down all over again.

Sunday was a looooooong day. Prepping to take the reins of Ensenada was a frightening prospect. As we sat in the ward testimony meeting, I looked around at his work, how many lives he had touched. His hands were worn in their service. He loved them, and they loved him. I was scared. Scared I couldn´t live up to that kind of trust. I felt like Gary Crowton taking over after Lavell Edwards, a feeling, which for you cougar fans filled me with some frightful prospects concerning the destiny of my area.

Karen, the investigator that came the night before, shocked us by coming to church as well. Mind you, this is the same Karen that openly professed atheism to us over and over. When Elder Ponce found her, she was gothic, and her mom a former Jehovah’s Witness. Not exactly your cookie cutter missionary investigator. Earlier that week she was in tears during our visit, telling us how she couldn´t change.

After church that day, we went to her house so Elder Ponce could say goodbye. Karen had changed. She was determined to do something with her life. I saw a miracle with her. She asked us, "What are the requirements to serve a mission?" I kid you not; she was seriously investigating the prospect of serving an LDS mission. We explained that she had to be baptized first, which didn´t seem to faze her. What had changed? What in the world had happened that week?

To be honest, I’m still wondering that same thing. The night before, amidst the torrents of rain she told us how much she hated that people didn´t care about where they´re going, where they came from, or purpose in life. During our visit, she expressed holding the Book of Mormon how much she wanted to use her intelligence to do good. With sincerity, to turn her life over to God.

I look to Mosiah 5:2 for the explanation. I am yet to confirm it, but I can already tell. Karen had a change of heart. She found something, a testimony, a purpose, a love of God. A faithful vision that where she felt dissatisfied with whom she was, she could find direction by turning her life over to a greater cause. A truly mighty change of heart. I´ve never seen an investigator turn around like that.

Ensenada is on fire. Spring is here, and with the blossoms of the season come the blossoms of our labors as well.

It´s a shame that Elder Ponce has to leave so soon, and when so much is looking up for us. Now I´m with Elder Bushman, a lanky North American from Spanish fork. As of about 2 hours ago. I´m yet to be able to give a full assessment, but he seems like a decent enough fellow.

It´s hard to see Elder Ponce leave. He was a diligent example of what missionary work is really about. Love of the people. Elder Ponce wasn´t about numbers. He relished every contact he made. Every lesson he taught. He was concerned, genuine, and prayed for his investigators often. He taught me charity.

And so it is that every passing face is another lesson. God takes away our trice and gives us training wheels, then he takes the training wheels off and gives us a two wheeler, and so on and so forth. We learn; we progress not by our comforts, but by our discomforts. But like any loving father, He is always there. We may fall down, but we learn that we were never in any real danger. He was there. All along. And from the pitfalls of our mortal experience, our troubled souls cry, "Lord save me!" And then comes the comforting condolence, "oh ye of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt."

God lives. He loves each of His children. The worth of their souls is indeed great. I know he lives, and like any father is always there for His children. We need only look around us to see his hands.

I have felt His "arms unfailing round me" these past six weeks. I was never alone. Never. Even in the darkness of the cold argentine night, huddled like a child in the arms of a loving parent. Even when I couldn´t see the light at first, He was there. I can testify He was there.

I feel your prayers and your love. Even a world away.