THIS MESSAGE IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY WAL MART
Sigh....
This week has been rough.
But I´ve grown a lot!
Whenever I get too comfortable someplace, that´s when it´s time to leave. Like I said earlier, God takes away the training wheels so we can learn to ride free. Unfortunately you still might fall down in the process. Especially if you were dependent on the training wheels...
I´m taking this metaphor too far
So Elder Valerin. He stands about a foot shorter than me with thick glasses and defined lips. The best description I can afford of him is that of Gonzo from the Muppets.
Avillaneda is a big city. A BIG CITY.
Tip of the hat today goes to, no not BYU football (although it is deserved. Go Cougars. Jonathan I won´t have time to write you this week, but thanks for the football season updates. Let me know how basketball is going), but rather globalization.
Yep, globalization.
Thanks to globalization, I have two Wal-Marts in my area, both of which have an incredible variety of international foods. I now enjoy things like pretzels again. And refried beans. Rosarita refried beans. Saturday I made my nachos and washed them down with a Twix bar. The unceremonious homogenization of contemporary society as we know it never tasted so good.
It´s like I can walk back to the states anytime I want.
Wal Mart. What a great place.
It is actually quite depressing.
I need to get a picture of the Wal-mart and McDonalds sign with the endless fields of Argentine shacks in the background. It´s such a cliché political statement, but suddenly has become disturbingly real.
Anyways. ENOUGH ABOUT WAL-MART.
This area is a big city. A BIG CITY. Downtown Buenos Aires. And not the good part. About half of our gigantic area has been red flagged, or deemed as too dangerous to enter. Pretty cool huh?
This place is actually struggling. In more than one way. When I got here, I realized that Elder Valerin didn´t have any plans for the night. A very bad sign. We spent most of the time wandering and contacting. Another thing about the big city, the people here are very cold. It´s either too much money, or devastatingly poor. There is no middle class here. Unfortunately, we´ve been red flagged around the devastatingly poor. So we´re preaching to the plata now.
I had to set in order the area book the next morning. I suddenly felt like Gordon Ramsey on one of those episodes of Ramsey´s kitchen nightmares. The area book was a random barrage of one time visit new investigators, the likes of which were completely lost on Elder Valerin. I finally found the only progressing ones that we had, which left us with a progressing investigator section thinner than a saltine cracker.
So this week has been about touching doors. And touching doors. And more doors. Doors doors doors. And walking. And rejection. A whole lot of rejection. You know the cliché vision of missionary work. The vision of missionary work I’ve had for my whole life.
Suddenly I had appreciation for the European missions. (Thanks for the letter by the way Jason! It straight up made my day!)
The worst part is, Elder Valerin is looking to me. TO ME to get something done in this area. For example he´ll ask, "So where do you want to go now?" As if I have any idea. I´ve been here for about two days, not to mention only three months in Argentina.
So it´s been rough. Real rough. I´m learning a ton though.
Thanksgiving day, I was thinking about the family as I was tracting through rain getting rejection. I thought of the big old turkey and the warm company. I thought about how lonely, stressed, and lost I felt at that moment. I looked down at my watch and it was about six o clock. I figured you were probably starting in on dinner about then. I thought about how we always prayed for the missionaries at dinner, and how at that moment on the other side of the world, my family was probably gathered together praying for me.
No sooner had I thought that, when we contacted a middle aged man who immediately invited us out of the rain and into his home. He offered us food and drink and intently listened to our message. He promised to read and pray about the Book of Mormon, expressing how much sense it all made.
As I left, I had the distinct impression that I had been led to him because of your prayer. I don´t know why, but I did. I knew I didn´t have a turkey. I didn´t have much. I was lost and a bit lonely. Very out of place. But I was also very grateful. Grateful I could be doing something on thanksgiving that was actually worth being thankful for. Grateful for a family that´s concerned about me. Grateful for a God that is guiding me. For the opportunity to be His servant.
I´m grateful for all of you. Thank you for your prayers in my behalf. I feel them all the time, and in a large part they got me through this week.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Navidad in Avillevera
If the title didn´t clue you in, I´m bound for Christmas, but not in Ensenada. Just like I was predicting, I got transferred.
Speaking of Christmas I got the first package today. Props mom on sending it cheap. I don´t know what you did, but you did it right. I only had to pay 4 pesos. To put it into perspective others were paying upwards of 300. The other missionaries were, in book of Mormon terms, "Exceedingly astonished," at my cheap package.
So I was up until 1 30 last night getting my things together. And we were awake at 530 this morning to catch a train to the mission home in Bonfield. I am EXHAUSTED!
So that´s where I am right now, in Bonfield at a random Argentine cyber with a space bar that is making it incredibly difficult to write.
It doesn´t help that I have a TON of things to write about.
I´ve yet to see my new area, and I met my new comp about an hour ago. Elder Valedin. His dad is from Costa Rica, but he grew up in California speaking English in Spanish. So he´s essentially native in both languages. It´s a golden opportunity to really start developing my Castellano. Elder Bushman and I got real lazy with our Spanish speaking.
I´m leaving the stretching fields and tranquil riverbeds of Ensenada for down town Buenos Aires. Our area is HUGE. I´m yet to see it yet, but it is gigantic. It´s going to be a whole new type of adventure. Frankly, I’m a bit nervous. Ensenada was a fairly sheltered tranquil place. Avillevera... well, welcome to the jungle.
Leaving Ensenada was rough. Very rough. I was so content with Elder Bushman. He was a best friend to me, always so easy to get along with. Wonderful members, great atmosphere. I even knew where to buy cheddar cheese!
This week was up and down. At the beginning, we had 3 days straight where all our plans fell through. We still found people to teach, but we were doing a LOT of contacting. It was quite discouraging.
On Monday one of our investigators with a baptismal date, Angela, told us she didn´t want to hear from us anymore and wouldn´t let us in. It turns out her daughter found out about her baptism and went totally crazy. She threatened to not let her Mom see her kids or anything. It hit us pretty hard.
The good news is, we had a baptism, which essentially became our light at the end of the tunnel.
After a few more days, Angela agreed to have us over, and we got back on track. She informed us that she had prayed and was going to get baptized anyway. We told her how happy we were, and then asked her how she was doing with giving up smoking. It turns out that Angela didn´t know that she actually had to be keeping the word of wisdom to be baptized. She just thought it was health advice. One obstacle down, then another rises. It´s quite frustrating.
On Thursday we heard from Elder Bednar. It was an incredible talk. He just answered questions the entire time. I don´t have space for details, but it was amazing.
On Friday, we had the baptism of Karen. She was so ready. Elder Bushman told me it was the first flawless baptism he had ever been to.
Before the service, I had a lot of frustrating things on my mind. The programs weren´t printing. I wasn´t getting help from Elder Bushman. A lot of little things. But once I saw Karen dressed in white, ready to make her first covenant with the Lord, everything fell into perspective.
As we started the service, there was such a distinct spirit, one I hadn´t felt before. We began by singing "A donde me mandes iré" or "I´ll go where you want me to go" I looked down and saw myself dressed in white as we were singing, and thought back to when I quoted that song in my farewell talk. I had no idea how hard it would actually be. I thought of hours of MTC study, and 2 months of confusion in Argentina. I thought of all the heartbreaks in Ensenada. All the frustrating non progressing investigators. All the failed contacts. All the people we had seen flake and fall away from the gospel. And after everything, Karen had persevered through it all. I had never seen such devotion and faith.
I was nervous to actually baptize someone. On top of that Karen had a huge full name. Karen Antonela Predovan Gagnotti. It was hard enough remembering the baptismal prayer. I definitely felt the Lord help me, to make the moment special for her.
I had seen baptisms before. I had seen the 8 year olds go into the font, still innocent, locked to their families and tradition. There was always a sweet spirit there. But to have known Karen before. To see how much she doubted herself, how she couldn´t even believe in God, and now to see her in those waters, words fail me to describe.
A quick plunge, and the sound of rushing waters, a flash of light, and then she emerged. New. Clean. Pure. Should I live a thousand years I will never forget that face. So alive and radiant. The peace of mind that only true repentance brings. Like a thousand pounds had been taken from her back and she now stood relieved. That face that once wept tears of shame and weakness, now stained with tears of joy. That´s the gospel I believe in. That´s the change that you can have. That´s the miracle of peace. Peace of mind that only Christ can bring.
Karen stood and bore a mighty testimony. There was no doubt in my mind that her conversion was real and lasting. That Sunday, she helped teach a gospel principles class. After church, she met with the Bishop, to talk about the mission she was dedicated to serve.
That, my friends, is conversion. That´s a broken heart and a contrite spirit. There is NOTHING the Lord can ask Karen that she won´t do.
My last days in Ensenada were tranquil, and slow. I thought of the growth I had had there. All those that had helped me along. The Angels the Lord had put in my path. This morning, I left. The same way I came. 3 bags, one backpack and a black suit. What changed? It´s not in my luggage, or my worn shoes. It´s in my eyes. And as the bus pulled round the riverbed into the endless green of Argentine fields, I thought of the words to a favorite hymn.
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I’m come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
The fields stretched for miles and miles, as did my mission before my eyes. I knew that trials and adventures countless in number awaited on the horizon. But I also knew that the Lord had guided my paths in Ensenada. And as Samuel of old, I had transformed the little river town to my own spiritual Ebenezer. Symbol of divine help and strength.
God lives. He loves us, and guides us. And if you´re listening you can always hear his voice. He never fails you. Never.
Speaking of Christmas I got the first package today. Props mom on sending it cheap. I don´t know what you did, but you did it right. I only had to pay 4 pesos. To put it into perspective others were paying upwards of 300. The other missionaries were, in book of Mormon terms, "Exceedingly astonished," at my cheap package.
So I was up until 1 30 last night getting my things together. And we were awake at 530 this morning to catch a train to the mission home in Bonfield. I am EXHAUSTED!
So that´s where I am right now, in Bonfield at a random Argentine cyber with a space bar that is making it incredibly difficult to write.
It doesn´t help that I have a TON of things to write about.
I´ve yet to see my new area, and I met my new comp about an hour ago. Elder Valedin. His dad is from Costa Rica, but he grew up in California speaking English in Spanish. So he´s essentially native in both languages. It´s a golden opportunity to really start developing my Castellano. Elder Bushman and I got real lazy with our Spanish speaking.
I´m leaving the stretching fields and tranquil riverbeds of Ensenada for down town Buenos Aires. Our area is HUGE. I´m yet to see it yet, but it is gigantic. It´s going to be a whole new type of adventure. Frankly, I’m a bit nervous. Ensenada was a fairly sheltered tranquil place. Avillevera... well, welcome to the jungle.
Leaving Ensenada was rough. Very rough. I was so content with Elder Bushman. He was a best friend to me, always so easy to get along with. Wonderful members, great atmosphere. I even knew where to buy cheddar cheese!
This week was up and down. At the beginning, we had 3 days straight where all our plans fell through. We still found people to teach, but we were doing a LOT of contacting. It was quite discouraging.
On Monday one of our investigators with a baptismal date, Angela, told us she didn´t want to hear from us anymore and wouldn´t let us in. It turns out her daughter found out about her baptism and went totally crazy. She threatened to not let her Mom see her kids or anything. It hit us pretty hard.
The good news is, we had a baptism, which essentially became our light at the end of the tunnel.
After a few more days, Angela agreed to have us over, and we got back on track. She informed us that she had prayed and was going to get baptized anyway. We told her how happy we were, and then asked her how she was doing with giving up smoking. It turns out that Angela didn´t know that she actually had to be keeping the word of wisdom to be baptized. She just thought it was health advice. One obstacle down, then another rises. It´s quite frustrating.
On Thursday we heard from Elder Bednar. It was an incredible talk. He just answered questions the entire time. I don´t have space for details, but it was amazing.
On Friday, we had the baptism of Karen. She was so ready. Elder Bushman told me it was the first flawless baptism he had ever been to.
Before the service, I had a lot of frustrating things on my mind. The programs weren´t printing. I wasn´t getting help from Elder Bushman. A lot of little things. But once I saw Karen dressed in white, ready to make her first covenant with the Lord, everything fell into perspective.
As we started the service, there was such a distinct spirit, one I hadn´t felt before. We began by singing "A donde me mandes iré" or "I´ll go where you want me to go" I looked down and saw myself dressed in white as we were singing, and thought back to when I quoted that song in my farewell talk. I had no idea how hard it would actually be. I thought of hours of MTC study, and 2 months of confusion in Argentina. I thought of all the heartbreaks in Ensenada. All the frustrating non progressing investigators. All the failed contacts. All the people we had seen flake and fall away from the gospel. And after everything, Karen had persevered through it all. I had never seen such devotion and faith.
I was nervous to actually baptize someone. On top of that Karen had a huge full name. Karen Antonela Predovan Gagnotti. It was hard enough remembering the baptismal prayer. I definitely felt the Lord help me, to make the moment special for her.
I had seen baptisms before. I had seen the 8 year olds go into the font, still innocent, locked to their families and tradition. There was always a sweet spirit there. But to have known Karen before. To see how much she doubted herself, how she couldn´t even believe in God, and now to see her in those waters, words fail me to describe.
A quick plunge, and the sound of rushing waters, a flash of light, and then she emerged. New. Clean. Pure. Should I live a thousand years I will never forget that face. So alive and radiant. The peace of mind that only true repentance brings. Like a thousand pounds had been taken from her back and she now stood relieved. That face that once wept tears of shame and weakness, now stained with tears of joy. That´s the gospel I believe in. That´s the change that you can have. That´s the miracle of peace. Peace of mind that only Christ can bring.
Karen stood and bore a mighty testimony. There was no doubt in my mind that her conversion was real and lasting. That Sunday, she helped teach a gospel principles class. After church, she met with the Bishop, to talk about the mission she was dedicated to serve.
That, my friends, is conversion. That´s a broken heart and a contrite spirit. There is NOTHING the Lord can ask Karen that she won´t do.
My last days in Ensenada were tranquil, and slow. I thought of the growth I had had there. All those that had helped me along. The Angels the Lord had put in my path. This morning, I left. The same way I came. 3 bags, one backpack and a black suit. What changed? It´s not in my luggage, or my worn shoes. It´s in my eyes. And as the bus pulled round the riverbed into the endless green of Argentine fields, I thought of the words to a favorite hymn.
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I’m come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
The fields stretched for miles and miles, as did my mission before my eyes. I knew that trials and adventures countless in number awaited on the horizon. But I also knew that the Lord had guided my paths in Ensenada. And as Samuel of old, I had transformed the little river town to my own spiritual Ebenezer. Symbol of divine help and strength.
God lives. He loves us, and guides us. And if you´re listening you can always hear his voice. He never fails you. Never.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Listo Para Bautizar
If the subject didn´t indicate it, we´re baptizing this week. That´s right. Submerging in water and everything. What missionary work is all about (and all that other kind of important stuff.)
But seriously, Karen is about as listo to get baptized as I’ve ever seen anyone. Seeing as how we´ve only had one baptism prior I don´t have much ground to talk. The point is she´s really ready to get baptized. She informed us yesterday of her desire to serve a mission. I´m so happy for her and the way her life changed. When I arrived, Elder Ponce had had two appointments with her. She was very pessimistic and reclusive. She couldn´t even believe in God. Now she is full of light. She´s always smiling. I love seeing what the Gospel has done to someone.
This week has been fantastic. Probably the best numbers we put up to date.
I don´t know if I told you, but we don´t have any Book of Mormons because the offices didn´t get a new shipment. How hard is doing missionary work without the BOM? The answer is impossible. This week we had three left, and focused on finding families. We managed to still find nine people with three BOMS. Nine people! Que capo eh?
Yesterday Elder Bushman and I took the second round at the roast. This time instead of returning to a smoke filled pension we walked into the sweet smell of slow cooked Argentine Beef. Words in this email fail me to describe how good that roast was. Not to brag or anything, after all, I learned from the best.
We have some new guests in the Pension. No, not other missionaries. Cockroaches. Big, brown, nasty, cockroaches. I love summer. I really do. But these things are ruining my Argentine paradise. I´ll get up in the morning, take out a box of cereal and jump back about five feet as the blasted creature scurries around. Anyone with creative ways to kill these things should email me ASAP. I don´t think I have the stomach to do it again with my foot.
ugh
Anyways.
This week Elder Bednar is coming to the Buenos Aires Missions. We´re all traveling to the capital to hear him speak. It´s very exciting.
So the other day was our zone activity for P-day. We went to our favorite pizza place, Pizza Libre. It features such exotic hits as, hot dog and mustard, french fries, and eggs. Mind you pizza toppings. I love pizza libre, and was intent on getting the most out of my experience. I wanted to eat more pizza libre pizza than I ever had before. I probably ended up eating about 1 and a half pizza libre pizzas, and I felt the consequences. I could barely move. "I´ll never eat pizza again" I promised myself. It was about that time when I realized we had a dinner appointment in four hours with the familia Ochea, who was cooking pizza, and had specifically instructed us to come "very very hungry."
I let out a silent groan of horror as my poor stomach gurgled in protest.
So we went.
And the pizza had anchovies... and eggs. Anchovy and egg pizza. It wasn´t as bad as you would think, but still pretty bad. And with roughly sixteen pounds of pizza libre pizza smoldering in my stomach, I was in no mood to eat ANY MORE PIZZA. But with Hmno Ochea shouting "COMA elder por favor! Usted no ha comido nada!" I ended up eating yet another pizza. I don´t know how I did it, but mind you I did do it.
And I felt like a champion.
Anyways...
All of our investigators are doing well. Marta still isn´t progressing. After another frustrating cita with her, we were ready to drop her to antiguos. We essentially gave her the do or die lesson. We used Alma five and everything. Marta apparently sensed the dire nature of the situation, gave us each a peach as recompense, and showed up to church bright and early on Sunday. With her, we´re not sure if we can drop her. She´s been receiving the discussions for a year now, and just isn´t progressing. Elder Bushman and I settled on just passing by once a week until she can make progress giving up smoking.
With Liliana, the poor investigator who was progressing great, we ran into a wall. She is moving to a different side of Ensenada, and we´re afraid we´re going to lose touch with her.
We had a good finding story the other day. It was in the afternoon, and we had made contacts for the better portion of two hours. Both of us were sick of touching houses. We started talking to a lady who was moderately interested in what we have to say when her husband ran out of the house and started yelling "¡TOMATELA!" over and over again. Essentially translated it means, beat it. His wife really was interested. The next house we went to, it was the same thing, rejection over again in the form of getting yelled at. Finally we saw a man walking into his house down the street. We both felt compelled to talk to him. As we walked closer to his house, I felt my foot sink into something wet and cold. I immediately jumped back and to my horror, realized I had stepped foot in a Sangah, or outdoor sewer. In most places here the sewer just runs to the sides of the street in ditches. This one was fairly concealed. I let out a small yelp, which drew the attention of the man. Upon seeing my situation, he offered to let us come inside. He got a rag out and some water and helped me clean off my shoe. Hearing that we were missionaries, he intuitively listened to a brief recounting of the apostasy and restoration. Long story short we set an appointment and left a Book of Mormon.
Moral of the story
The Lord works in mysterious ways. Sometimes even stepping in a Sangah.
But seriously, Karen is about as listo to get baptized as I’ve ever seen anyone. Seeing as how we´ve only had one baptism prior I don´t have much ground to talk. The point is she´s really ready to get baptized. She informed us yesterday of her desire to serve a mission. I´m so happy for her and the way her life changed. When I arrived, Elder Ponce had had two appointments with her. She was very pessimistic and reclusive. She couldn´t even believe in God. Now she is full of light. She´s always smiling. I love seeing what the Gospel has done to someone.
This week has been fantastic. Probably the best numbers we put up to date.
I don´t know if I told you, but we don´t have any Book of Mormons because the offices didn´t get a new shipment. How hard is doing missionary work without the BOM? The answer is impossible. This week we had three left, and focused on finding families. We managed to still find nine people with three BOMS. Nine people! Que capo eh?
Yesterday Elder Bushman and I took the second round at the roast. This time instead of returning to a smoke filled pension we walked into the sweet smell of slow cooked Argentine Beef. Words in this email fail me to describe how good that roast was. Not to brag or anything, after all, I learned from the best.
We have some new guests in the Pension. No, not other missionaries. Cockroaches. Big, brown, nasty, cockroaches. I love summer. I really do. But these things are ruining my Argentine paradise. I´ll get up in the morning, take out a box of cereal and jump back about five feet as the blasted creature scurries around. Anyone with creative ways to kill these things should email me ASAP. I don´t think I have the stomach to do it again with my foot.
ugh
Anyways.
This week Elder Bednar is coming to the Buenos Aires Missions. We´re all traveling to the capital to hear him speak. It´s very exciting.
So the other day was our zone activity for P-day. We went to our favorite pizza place, Pizza Libre. It features such exotic hits as, hot dog and mustard, french fries, and eggs. Mind you pizza toppings. I love pizza libre, and was intent on getting the most out of my experience. I wanted to eat more pizza libre pizza than I ever had before. I probably ended up eating about 1 and a half pizza libre pizzas, and I felt the consequences. I could barely move. "I´ll never eat pizza again" I promised myself. It was about that time when I realized we had a dinner appointment in four hours with the familia Ochea, who was cooking pizza, and had specifically instructed us to come "very very hungry."
I let out a silent groan of horror as my poor stomach gurgled in protest.
So we went.
And the pizza had anchovies... and eggs. Anchovy and egg pizza. It wasn´t as bad as you would think, but still pretty bad. And with roughly sixteen pounds of pizza libre pizza smoldering in my stomach, I was in no mood to eat ANY MORE PIZZA. But with Hmno Ochea shouting "COMA elder por favor! Usted no ha comido nada!" I ended up eating yet another pizza. I don´t know how I did it, but mind you I did do it.
And I felt like a champion.
Anyways...
All of our investigators are doing well. Marta still isn´t progressing. After another frustrating cita with her, we were ready to drop her to antiguos. We essentially gave her the do or die lesson. We used Alma five and everything. Marta apparently sensed the dire nature of the situation, gave us each a peach as recompense, and showed up to church bright and early on Sunday. With her, we´re not sure if we can drop her. She´s been receiving the discussions for a year now, and just isn´t progressing. Elder Bushman and I settled on just passing by once a week until she can make progress giving up smoking.
With Liliana, the poor investigator who was progressing great, we ran into a wall. She is moving to a different side of Ensenada, and we´re afraid we´re going to lose touch with her.
We had a good finding story the other day. It was in the afternoon, and we had made contacts for the better portion of two hours. Both of us were sick of touching houses. We started talking to a lady who was moderately interested in what we have to say when her husband ran out of the house and started yelling "¡TOMATELA!" over and over again. Essentially translated it means, beat it. His wife really was interested. The next house we went to, it was the same thing, rejection over again in the form of getting yelled at. Finally we saw a man walking into his house down the street. We both felt compelled to talk to him. As we walked closer to his house, I felt my foot sink into something wet and cold. I immediately jumped back and to my horror, realized I had stepped foot in a Sangah, or outdoor sewer. In most places here the sewer just runs to the sides of the street in ditches. This one was fairly concealed. I let out a small yelp, which drew the attention of the man. Upon seeing my situation, he offered to let us come inside. He got a rag out and some water and helped me clean off my shoe. Hearing that we were missionaries, he intuitively listened to a brief recounting of the apostasy and restoration. Long story short we set an appointment and left a Book of Mormon.
Moral of the story
The Lord works in mysterious ways. Sometimes even stepping in a Sangah.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Cerca al fin
I´m nearing the end of my second transfer. What does that mean? It means I´m probably getting transferred. As a matter of fact I´m almost positive.
As to the people that have been asking me if I can see stars, I think you grossly underestimate the pollution of the Argentine sky. It´s very dark here when the lights go out. But tonight I´ll climb up to the top of the pension (there´s stairs mom, don´t worry) and take a look.
It´s taken us four weeks, but me and Elder Bushman have finally got things running where we want them. We have set weekly appointments with all our progressing investigators, and a clean updated area book. Now the work is on fire. We should be pushing seven baptisms by the end of December, hopefully more. The bad news is... I´m only going to baptize Karen and then get transferred.
Ok Ok Ok Ok. A transfer at this point is mas o menos a foregone conclusion. Usually how it works is North Americans or foreign speakers get two transfers in their first area and then, chow (however you actually spell that.)
We had a solid fecha with one of our best investigators, Angela, for November 19. But, as it turns out, Elder Bednar is coming to all the Buenos Aires missions to address us. It´s exciting to say the least. But heartbreaking for me as I won´t actually see her enter the waters of baptism. She was so prepared.
As a matter of fact, Angela has a fantastic story behind her.
She´s about 50-60 years old, and was suffering from the death of her husband a few months prior. She was looking for religion, but had settled on a mix of Hindu and her own beliefs. Some twisted form of reincarnation. Upon experiencing a large trial in her life (she´s yet to specify) she got down on her knees and prayed to God to send her a sign, send her something to help her.
The next day, Angela went to her niece’s house to babysit, where a frustrated Elder Ponce and a slightly less frustrated Elder Jensen were fruitlessly making contacts. We passed by and gave her a pamphlet about the plan of salvation. She couldn´t let us in, but apparently we left a good impression.
When we actually passed by her house, she had a bit of apprehension, tried to convince us that she had her own beliefs and didn´t need an organized religion. After a bit of persuasion, she let us in.
Fast forward about a month and a half.
Angela started reading the Book of Mormon on her own, and has read all the way through Mosiah at this point. She loves sharing the stories with me, especially about Alma and the Sons of Mosiah. She isn´t forced to read, she wants to. She received an answer by persistently reading. When I see investigators like Angela, it shows me what Moroni really meant when he wrote "ask with a sincere heart, having real intent."
Angela, not wanting to go to church on her own, brought her granddaughter, Mocarena, who sits in with the discussions and recently told us that she received an answer that the Book of Mormon is true. She´ll probably get baptized shortly after Angela does.
But it doesn´t stop there.
A friend of Angela noticed the change that had taken place, and asked her why she´s so happy all the time. "What happened?" Angela explained about the missionary discussions, and about the Book of Mormon. Her friend is going to come to our next visit. Along with Angela´s daughter if she can move work around.
AND SO....
the moral of the story is this.
When Elder Ponce and I found Angela, we didn´t have a spiritual prompting. We didn´t hear a voice. We didn´t see a light. We were just working. Doing what we usually did. The point is, when we do what we´re supposed to, when we´re obedient, our steps are guided.
I´ve learned that in missionary work, that if we are obedient, we don´t have to worry about whether it´s the still small voice, or just ourselves, our steps are guided. We find people that are ready to receive us, that are prepared to listen. We see miracles, even if it just seems like our normal routine.
Thus the moral of the story is, be obedient. Study your scriptures, say your prayers, and go to church. You know the cliché stuff. Then when the opportunity comes, you´ll be in the right place. God is over all. There is a purpose in everything we do, sometimes even in the mistakes we make. In the end, when the chips have fallen, and the accounting is made, the only thing we can really say for ourselves is that we were obedient and when someone needed a miracle we were there.
As to the people that have been asking me if I can see stars, I think you grossly underestimate the pollution of the Argentine sky. It´s very dark here when the lights go out. But tonight I´ll climb up to the top of the pension (there´s stairs mom, don´t worry) and take a look.
It´s taken us four weeks, but me and Elder Bushman have finally got things running where we want them. We have set weekly appointments with all our progressing investigators, and a clean updated area book. Now the work is on fire. We should be pushing seven baptisms by the end of December, hopefully more. The bad news is... I´m only going to baptize Karen and then get transferred.
Ok Ok Ok Ok. A transfer at this point is mas o menos a foregone conclusion. Usually how it works is North Americans or foreign speakers get two transfers in their first area and then, chow (however you actually spell that.)
We had a solid fecha with one of our best investigators, Angela, for November 19. But, as it turns out, Elder Bednar is coming to all the Buenos Aires missions to address us. It´s exciting to say the least. But heartbreaking for me as I won´t actually see her enter the waters of baptism. She was so prepared.
As a matter of fact, Angela has a fantastic story behind her.
She´s about 50-60 years old, and was suffering from the death of her husband a few months prior. She was looking for religion, but had settled on a mix of Hindu and her own beliefs. Some twisted form of reincarnation. Upon experiencing a large trial in her life (she´s yet to specify) she got down on her knees and prayed to God to send her a sign, send her something to help her.
The next day, Angela went to her niece’s house to babysit, where a frustrated Elder Ponce and a slightly less frustrated Elder Jensen were fruitlessly making contacts. We passed by and gave her a pamphlet about the plan of salvation. She couldn´t let us in, but apparently we left a good impression.
When we actually passed by her house, she had a bit of apprehension, tried to convince us that she had her own beliefs and didn´t need an organized religion. After a bit of persuasion, she let us in.
Fast forward about a month and a half.
Angela started reading the Book of Mormon on her own, and has read all the way through Mosiah at this point. She loves sharing the stories with me, especially about Alma and the Sons of Mosiah. She isn´t forced to read, she wants to. She received an answer by persistently reading. When I see investigators like Angela, it shows me what Moroni really meant when he wrote "ask with a sincere heart, having real intent."
Angela, not wanting to go to church on her own, brought her granddaughter, Mocarena, who sits in with the discussions and recently told us that she received an answer that the Book of Mormon is true. She´ll probably get baptized shortly after Angela does.
But it doesn´t stop there.
A friend of Angela noticed the change that had taken place, and asked her why she´s so happy all the time. "What happened?" Angela explained about the missionary discussions, and about the Book of Mormon. Her friend is going to come to our next visit. Along with Angela´s daughter if she can move work around.
AND SO....
the moral of the story is this.
When Elder Ponce and I found Angela, we didn´t have a spiritual prompting. We didn´t hear a voice. We didn´t see a light. We were just working. Doing what we usually did. The point is, when we do what we´re supposed to, when we´re obedient, our steps are guided.
I´ve learned that in missionary work, that if we are obedient, we don´t have to worry about whether it´s the still small voice, or just ourselves, our steps are guided. We find people that are ready to receive us, that are prepared to listen. We see miracles, even if it just seems like our normal routine.
Thus the moral of the story is, be obedient. Study your scriptures, say your prayers, and go to church. You know the cliché stuff. Then when the opportunity comes, you´ll be in the right place. God is over all. There is a purpose in everything we do, sometimes even in the mistakes we make. In the end, when the chips have fallen, and the accounting is made, the only thing we can really say for ourselves is that we were obedient and when someone needed a miracle we were there.
Monday, November 2, 2009
La Diferencia
This week was another solid week in Ensenada. I never cease to learn the principles of missionary work here. The longer I stay here, the more attached I get. Leaving this place in three weeks is going to be a heartbreaker. There´s always the chance I´ll get a third transfer here, but it´s unlikely.
At the very least, I´ll be baptizing Karen possibly the last week I´m here. She has truly been the story of Ensenada. I guess what you have to understand about her to understand why I keep referencing her is she truly did receive a mighty change of heart. A few weeks ago she couldn´t even believe in God, all of the sudden she has one of the strongest testimonies of the Gospel I´ve ever seen. She´s firm and unshakable in her faith. Me and Elder Bushman sit back in our meetings and marvel at what the Lord has done with her.
Additionally, we took out another baptismal date with a woman we found last transfer. Angela. I think what´s so special to me about Angela is I was there when she was found. I can´t say that about many others. She was a grandmother coping with the death of her husband. When we came to her house this week we found that she had read all the way through Mosiah in the Book of Mormon, and told us that she knew it had come of God. We subsequently committed her to be baptized.
This week we did a lot of contacting in the poorer areas of Ensenada. There´s poor and then there´s third world poor. The villa. It´s a field off to the side of Ensenada with a bunch of wooden boxes springing up. At first glance, you think their stables for animals. Then you realize their houses. I was more humbled than I’ve ever been. I have been so blessed in my life. So incredibly blessed.
We found a woman there, Liliana, who immediately let us in. We left a copy of the Book of Mormon, and upon returning she told us she knew it was true. Even though she couldn´t understand it, when she read it she felt peace in her dire circumstances. We testified that was the Holy Ghost bearing witness of the truth. We´re going to set a baptismal date with her in about fifteen minutes.
This and other circumstances have reiterated a powerful quote from preach my gospel. "Regardless of circumstance, all people are best helped as they come to receive the restored Gospel."
Contrast the above experiences, with the following.
We ran into an old investigator while contacting close to the forest side of Ensenada. His name was Marcos, and was eager to let us in. To our dismay, we found out quickly he was more interested in talking about U.S. politics than he was talking about the gospel. We managed to get a flimsy commitment to read and pray. When we returned, he told us how he had read the introduction and how fascinating the historical origin of the book was. He wanted to know where he could find the gold plates so he could verify if it was true. We explained that the gold plates had been taken back into the heavens by the Angel Moroni, and the way we can know if the book is true is by asking of God. He became very doubtful, and lectured us on the implausibility of it all, telling us that if there really was a prophet of God on the earth today, he needed a sign to believe it. He refused to read and pray, so we told him that we couldn´t pass by until he was going to make an effort to find out if these things were true. He had no interest in them. No desire to change. He said he was content where he was spiritually, and we were ignorant and being deceived.
The irony is, the Book of Mormon speaks directly to men like him.
I realized about then, the great wisdom of God. Because if people could feel the gold plates, if they could see with their eyes the mysteries of God without searching, they would look with their eyes. Look for their reason for assurance. There is only one way to know if this message is true, and that´s through God Himself. And those who are learned and prideful will never receive a witness of spiritual things. Even if the signs were laid out before their eyes they still wouldn´t believe. The Book of Mormon teaches us many times that seeing is clearly not believing. (Alma 5:40-46 (I´m pretty sure it´s somewhere in there), 1 Nephi 3 (end of the chapter).
The truth is everyone has doubts. We don´t have a perfect knowledge. We´re not supposed to. The difference comes between the ones who are humble enough to suspend disbelief and tred into the dark, and the ones who choose instead a God after their own design. A religion that tells them what they want to believe, not what they need to become.
Regardless, I´ve received a considerably greater witness of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. It feels like this week especially I´ve had to defend it. And I love doing so. I know it´s true. I love that book. I love the precepts and the testimonies. I love the prophets and the doctrine. And especially, I love the testimonies of Christ, and more specifically the atonement. It is central to missionary work. Truly the keystone of our religion.
At the very least, I´ll be baptizing Karen possibly the last week I´m here. She has truly been the story of Ensenada. I guess what you have to understand about her to understand why I keep referencing her is she truly did receive a mighty change of heart. A few weeks ago she couldn´t even believe in God, all of the sudden she has one of the strongest testimonies of the Gospel I´ve ever seen. She´s firm and unshakable in her faith. Me and Elder Bushman sit back in our meetings and marvel at what the Lord has done with her.
Additionally, we took out another baptismal date with a woman we found last transfer. Angela. I think what´s so special to me about Angela is I was there when she was found. I can´t say that about many others. She was a grandmother coping with the death of her husband. When we came to her house this week we found that she had read all the way through Mosiah in the Book of Mormon, and told us that she knew it had come of God. We subsequently committed her to be baptized.
This week we did a lot of contacting in the poorer areas of Ensenada. There´s poor and then there´s third world poor. The villa. It´s a field off to the side of Ensenada with a bunch of wooden boxes springing up. At first glance, you think their stables for animals. Then you realize their houses. I was more humbled than I’ve ever been. I have been so blessed in my life. So incredibly blessed.
We found a woman there, Liliana, who immediately let us in. We left a copy of the Book of Mormon, and upon returning she told us she knew it was true. Even though she couldn´t understand it, when she read it she felt peace in her dire circumstances. We testified that was the Holy Ghost bearing witness of the truth. We´re going to set a baptismal date with her in about fifteen minutes.
This and other circumstances have reiterated a powerful quote from preach my gospel. "Regardless of circumstance, all people are best helped as they come to receive the restored Gospel."
Contrast the above experiences, with the following.
We ran into an old investigator while contacting close to the forest side of Ensenada. His name was Marcos, and was eager to let us in. To our dismay, we found out quickly he was more interested in talking about U.S. politics than he was talking about the gospel. We managed to get a flimsy commitment to read and pray. When we returned, he told us how he had read the introduction and how fascinating the historical origin of the book was. He wanted to know where he could find the gold plates so he could verify if it was true. We explained that the gold plates had been taken back into the heavens by the Angel Moroni, and the way we can know if the book is true is by asking of God. He became very doubtful, and lectured us on the implausibility of it all, telling us that if there really was a prophet of God on the earth today, he needed a sign to believe it. He refused to read and pray, so we told him that we couldn´t pass by until he was going to make an effort to find out if these things were true. He had no interest in them. No desire to change. He said he was content where he was spiritually, and we were ignorant and being deceived.
The irony is, the Book of Mormon speaks directly to men like him.
I realized about then, the great wisdom of God. Because if people could feel the gold plates, if they could see with their eyes the mysteries of God without searching, they would look with their eyes. Look for their reason for assurance. There is only one way to know if this message is true, and that´s through God Himself. And those who are learned and prideful will never receive a witness of spiritual things. Even if the signs were laid out before their eyes they still wouldn´t believe. The Book of Mormon teaches us many times that seeing is clearly not believing. (Alma 5:40-46 (I´m pretty sure it´s somewhere in there), 1 Nephi 3 (end of the chapter).
The truth is everyone has doubts. We don´t have a perfect knowledge. We´re not supposed to. The difference comes between the ones who are humble enough to suspend disbelief and tred into the dark, and the ones who choose instead a God after their own design. A religion that tells them what they want to believe, not what they need to become.
Regardless, I´ve received a considerably greater witness of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. It feels like this week especially I´ve had to defend it. And I love doing so. I know it´s true. I love that book. I love the precepts and the testimonies. I love the prophets and the doctrine. And especially, I love the testimonies of Christ, and more specifically the atonement. It is central to missionary work. Truly the keystone of our religion.
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