Groundhog Day

Summer is raging here in Buenos Aires. For those of you who think you see signs of warmth in the Northern Hemisphere, you’ve been sorely misled. I can safely assert that there are absolutely no signs of cold here, which means there is little or no chance of warmth coming to you there any time soon.

Also I remembered last week that it was Groundhog Day. I hate that holiday. That stupid rat has cost me a haystack of misery in my day. He always sees his shadow. ALWAYS. Until suddenly, I realized that six more weeks of winter for you means six more weeks of summer for me.

Yes. Life in blissfully warm Buenos Aires is, as the Argentines say, "todo tranquil"

I thought a lot about Groundhog Day this week. Not the actual holiday, rather the hit comedy film wherein a fictional weatherman, Phil Connors, is forced to live the same day over and over and over again until he can finally live it right. Having spent 11 weeks here with Elder Valerin, I feel like I am now starring in Groundhog Day.

The mission is cruel like that. The things you want to change stay the same, and the things you want to hold on to change. Everything is up in the air. On a daily basis though, between transfers, things get redundant. It’s what I would call the "trenches" of missionary work. Where the real eternal battle is fought.

Elder Valerin and I have felt exhausted this week. And we’re not completely sure why. My solution: Groundhogs day. Avellaneda has worn me down. It’s the same day every day, often with the same mistakes. The same missed contacts. The same disagreements. The same weaknesses. The same highs. The same lows.

The beauty of Groundhog Day is that eventually Phil Connors finds a way to live the perfect day, by losing himself in the lives of others. It takes him literally years of living the same day over and over, but eventually he makes the small changes necessary to become someone different. To change for the better.

Avellaneda, as redundant as it has seemed at times, has always afforded me the opportunity to start over at the beginning of a new day. The changes that are made are rarely perceptible in the moment, but as I look back at the big picture, the past 11 weeks, I don’t know if I’ve ever changed so much.

The beauty of a new day is the opportunity we all have to, as President Hinckley said, "Try a little harder to be a little better."

So that’s what I think of when I think of Groundhog Day. The little chances we have in the redundancy of life's endless cycle to become something. And rather than resenting our circumstance, slowly learning to love it. Even if all we can do is try.

Because when we do our best, that’s when the miracles happen. And when they do, it makes it all worth it. When they do, that’s when we finally know our efforts have been accepted and even though we can’t, the Lord can.

On that note, we’ve seen a miracle. Sylvina has decided to get baptized this Saturday.

The area they all told me was dead, the companion they all told me was hopeless, the circumstances they all told me were insurmountable, have all been overcome. And I am left with nothing to say for myself but the goodness of God. Because the Elders of Avellaneda 2 don’t really know how to do missionary work. They don’t always ask for references, and they don’t leave the perfect commitments. They don’t teach perfectly, and their Spanish could use some work.

We can say nothing for ourselves.

But God is perfect. I know He lives and loves us. Thankfully, this isn’t our work, it’s His. And even if all we can say at the end of the day is that we tried to be obedient, that’s good enough for Him. He is our father. He is mindful of our needs, and He knows us better than we know ourselves. I have seen His hand here when I didn’t think I could take another step, He was always there. I have seen angels around me bearing me up in very real ways. I have felt your prayers and your love in my behalf being answered and strengthening me. And oh, what a marvelous work and a wonder I have seen here in Avellaneda 2. I will never ever forget what spectacular things that God did for me. And the miracles I saw the likes of which were not deserved.

As groundhogs day may come to an end, what I take is a lesson learned, and a testimony refound.