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.

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.

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.

The Bushman/Jensen system

This week was a lot like last week. I find things are a lot less dramatic with a North American companion. Less dramatic is definitely a good thing in mission work. After the painfully reclusive Elder Coats, and the solely Spanish speaking Ponce, Elder Bushman is a first class comp. He´s actually me, from a different walk of life. I´m convinced we´re the same person. Which is funny because I have been known to say I would never want to live with myself, because I would drive myself crazy. Quite the contrary, I find living with my other side somewhat alleviating to say the least. Especially when the work is so difficult. It makes the Pension a sanctuary. A beautiful English speaking sanctuary.

Allow me to explain further. Consider this quote.

"I don´t consider myself pessimistic, but sometimes I predict the worst so I won´t be disappointed when it happens."

Sound familiar?

That was directly from Elder Bushman. And that´s when I knew we were brothers.

From a self taught pianist who half heartedly pushed his way through high school band wishing to be somewhere else, to having the hamburger song from veggie tales unashamedly memorized, Elder Bushman is me. Albeit a slightly altered me (you can thank Spanish Fork for that) But me nonetheless.

Ok, so enough about Elder Bushman. Things are going fantastic here. The initial shell shock of elder Ponce´s departure has worn off, and the Bushman Jensen system has been put in place in Ensenada. We´re putting up numbers. Finding, contacting, teaching. And, as of November 20th, and quite possibly sooner, baptizing.

So a little more about Karen.

This week we had an appointment, and she finally decided on a date. The 20th of November. She also decided on someone to baptize her. In the moment, I was readily expecting her to pick Elder Bushman. His Spanish being supreme. I was shocked and humbled when she said, "I´ve chosen someone so profound, with so much faith... Elder Jensen."

It was a sacred moment. One of those moments that lets me know why I´m here. One of those moments that starts to outweigh how hard the past four months have been.

When we went into Karen´s house for that appointment, it was clear skies, muggy and humid. Very hot. When we left, it was so dark I couldn´t see my hand in front of my face. A storm had moved in over the small space of an hour.

This storm was unlike any I had ever seen. Thick darkness, and then above, lightning constantly rolling across the heavens. We tried to get on the bikes, but with little success as we could barely see the paths in front of us illuminated. I felt like I was in a movie.

The weather here is crazy. Honestly disturbing.

Anyways, I guess the best way to describe me right now is content. Content with Ensenada, content with my companion and my investigators. Content on a mission only really ever means one thing. Everything is about to turn upside down.

Love you so much everyone. Thank you for your support and letters and everything!

Le fe Perfecta

With Elder Ponce leaving, I´ve inherited a mess. Elder Ponce did missionary work with his head, not with paper. So Elder Bushman and I have been building Ensenada from the ground up.

A little about Elder Bushman

He has a chip and dell smile complimented by an even part about three fourths down his head. He stands around 6 feet, lanky build, almost as skinny as I am. His voice sounds exactly like Bob the tomato from veggie tales, which is frankly distracting when he´s sharing a scriptural thought....

Elder Bushman is frankly Mr. Everything. Kind of funny with his reserved personality. I think he´s me, from an alternate dimension. He was student body pres of Spanish fork high school, madrigals pres, pres of just about everything else. But has little or no care for his former life. Things kind of came easy for him.

Our mutual past differences aren´t important. What is important is that I finally have someone to talk to. Like really talk to. After a reclusive Elder Coats, and a Chileno Elder Ponce, it´s strange to be able to say exactly what´s on my mind to someone who can actually understand what I’m feeling. I feel like my companion is, well, a friend now. A real friend. Not a forced one.

Anyways, Elder Bushman has been here 8 months. This is his first time being senior comp. And this is my first time without a trainer. So we´re both.... lost to say the least. We´ve had to separate the wheat from the tares of the investigators so to speak.

Ok, so I love the work that Elder Ponce did here, but the bottom line is that plans in the head don´t translate to plans in the area book. We´ve had to rebuild things here. Frankly, I don´t know what we did for the past six weeks here. Elder Ponce just knew where to go. I feel bad I haven´t been able to help Elder Bushman more, but at the same time, it´s been a great experience to actually have to figure things out for myself.

Now that I can understand what my companion says, I can actually help teach the lessons. Not just a spiritual thought and testimony, actually teach.

So our investigators right now, well we don´t exactly know. We´re still trying to find some of them. Let all the Elders within reach of this email understand the importance of keeping an organized updated area book.

Ok, so I know our most frequent and our most progressing. Marta is at a brick wall. She can´t give up smoking. We don´t know what to do with her because she keeps her commitments to read, just has no faith in her ability to dejar de fumar. Now she is trying to find fault in the church. She knows it´s true, but she doesn´t want to quit smoking. So she´s trying to convince herself it´s false so she doesn´t have to. We had a baptismal date with her, but now she´s headed to square one.

Dante also had a date, but he´s living with his wife unmarried, Yamila. She´s the older sister of Mario, the ward member who helped me through a rough spot a few weeks ago. Yamila is a less active member, but they both want this for their kids, so their working to get the paperwork. All the divorce stuff is very complicated.

Nora had a baptismal date, but has gone completely backwards over the past few weeks, to the point of not being able to keep her commitments to read and pray. She has such a big heart, but we´re going to have to drop her if she can´t make time to keep her commitments. It´s tragic--one of the hardest parts of missionary work.

Olga is a recent convert who has decided she knows everything she needs to about the gospel, so she doesn´t need to go to church. Pride has worked its way into her life, and she thinks that God has something more in store for her. In reality she´s depressed that Elder Ponce had to go, and refuses to pay her tithing. Personally I think she got baptized for him. Elder Bushman and I have tried to work with her this week, but she refuses to attach herself to anyone but Ponce.

Then there´s Ruben, the carpenter who knows it´s true, but he´s living with his girlfriend, needs to get divorced, and refuses to pay tithing. Kind of a combination of all the problems. Big spirit, but doesn´t want to do what it takes. ´Keeps all his commitments though and goes to church every Sunday.

And in the veritable cereal box of our investigators, there´s the precious prize at the bottom. Karen.

Yes Karen. The 23 year old atheist who never progressed over 6 weeks and said she could never change. Gothic. Ex Jehovah’s witness mom. Not exactly cookie cutter investigator.

Rewind the clock about 18 years. A member of our Bishopric, Hermano Marchoni is having good conversation with a Jehovah’s Witness and her small daughter. He gives the girl a Book of Mormon and leaves frustrated forgetting about it. That little girl is Karen. Even though she never read that Book of Mormon, the seed was there. Fast-forward about 18 years.

The missionaries contact Karen who wouldn´t otherwise have received them except for recognition of the representatives who talked to her so long ago. She invites them to come in and dusts off her old Book of Mormon that was placed by a faithful member so long ago. She is interested in the missionaries, likes their spirit and conversation, but doesn´t think she can believe in god.

Fast-forward about six weeks.

Karen is in tears, torn between one path or the other. Receptive to the missionary message. But still can´t believe in it for certain. Can´t believe it enough to change her life. The missionaries share their testimony of the atonement, and the mighty change it can bring. That she doesn´t have to be alone, she can find peace through the sacrifice of the savior, and have the strength to follow his path. Subsequently inspired, Karen gets down on her knees like she had so many times before over the past six weeks, praying to a God she still couldn´t believe in, looking for something definitive, a reason to change.

And after six weeks of reading, searching, pondering, and praying, she gets her answer.

Karen´s life changes. Light floods her eyes and her complexion. She goes to church much to the surprise of the missionaries, fueled by an insatiable desire to learn more. The prospect of change is no longer difficult; it is what she knows to be true.

Finally the missionaries want her to show her change. To follow the example of her savior and take the first step on the path of a new life. The one who can speak barely a word of Spanish, asks her to be baptized. She answers without hesitation and with fervent zeal. "Yes, it is my purpose."

If you haven´t figured it out, the missionary who asked Karen to be baptized was me. And that response is the authentic one. "Yes, it is my purpose." I´ll never forget it. As long as I live. Karen worked so hard to get her answer, but now that she has it her heart has changed. She is firm and unshakable in faith. Truly a miracle. I started to cry right there in our appointment. "I´ve never seen faith like this."

That experience, as was conveyed above, was the accumulation of little things someone did to prepare another to receive the gospel. Little seeds that were planted. To me Karen´s story is pretty unbelievable. But sometimes God does some pretty unbelievable things. But sometimes it´s not in the way you expect. It´s the little things. Over a lot of time. And maybe, if you’re listening closely, you can be the hands of God, an angel to someone who needs a big miracle, in a small way. Little things we do under the influence of the spirit may in fact have lasting influence in the eternities to come. And if you’re living faithful, you can say that you were there when someone´s soul was on the line. Not as a hero who has the eyes of the world, as a stranger who nobody saw. I can´t claim a lot to the miracle that is becoming Karen´s story. I can only say when God called, I was there.

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.

The Real Transition

General Conference really does take on new meaning as a missionary. Like Elder Ockey said, it´s the super bowl.

In our mission, you can only attend if you have investigators. Gracias to the language barrier, I never could get a clear reason why promoting investigator attendance outweighed receiving modern revelation. As a result I missed Saturday morning.

When we finally did get to Saturday afternoon session in Villa Vida we had to wait for our investigators to show up. They were running late, and as such I was incredibly distraught. Tapping my foot up and down, pacing back and forth, checking the watch and everything. Why had I never been this excited and desperate for conference before?

Thankfully when I finally did get in, there was an English transmission in the other room.

The next morning we were able to see priesthood session rebroadcast, but this time it was only in Spanish. As such I saw 4 sessions of conference. Missed one, and couldn´t understand the other. I hope we get the ensign out here soon. My personal favorite was Elder Holland. I hope to one day be able to bear a testimony like that of the Book of Mormon.

I couldn´t help but let my thoughts wander back home, especially during the priesthood session. All the guys going off to Rafael´s. Sitting around the table. Dad probably said something like "well Stephen´s all the way in Argentina. Just a few more conference sessions and Jonathan will be somewhere” And Jonathan probably thought, "like that´ll ever happen." I assure you, that day is coming faster than you think.

I guess the true spirit of this week has been transitioning. The real transition. Not just the initial culture shock transition. At this point everything has been new, different, exciting. Now I have to set into a routine. I´ve tried all the new foods (well most of them) and seen most of the, frankly, strange things this place has to offer. Now is the make or break moment. Up until now, it´s just been a fun vacation. Ok, that´s a bit generous. But seriously, more like an adventure. At this point, I have a deep heartfelt yearning for the things I realize I won´t get here for two years.

Random things too. Like cheddar cheese, popcorn, refried beans, limes, and tortilla chips. Essentially all Mexican food. and, surprisingly most of all

Pickles.

I went to burger king today, and they had pickles. Never have I tasted something so delicious in my life. I guess going to BK kind of silenced those yearnings. That doesn´t mean I wouldn´t kill a guy for a slice of cheddar, but that´s beside the point...

I guess the problem is, the problem we don´t realize, in America we don´t really have a cuisine. We eat all sorts of random stuff. We have a HUGE variety of food. Chinese, Mexican, Italian. Here, they eat Argentine. And Argentine is delicious. I guess I’m just hungry for something different.

So I´ve got a problem. I want to cook a roast and introduce Elder Ponce to roast beef mashed potatoes and gravy for Sunday dinner, but after a certain college experience resulting in a piece of meat burnt beyond the point of recollection, seeing as how I’m without Crockpot here I don´t see how it´s feasible. I know I would have to add the water progressively. So here I am with the problem, and I´m sending you what I have. It´s kind of like that scene in Apollo thirteen where they send the materials they have to NASA and they have to figure out a solution. I´ve got six and a half hours (6:30-1:00) and church starts at 9:30. Assume I would be away from the roast for 4 hours with travel time and socializing. Is there any way to cook it without burning it? Like putting extra water in the pot that I cook it in?

Anyways...

This week has been good for me. Minus a small cold I´ve been fighting. I feel like I´m making progress in the language. It´s hard to see though. With Elder Ponce it´s always hard to communicate. Especially after a real long day. I feel like, when I’m on the street doing missionary work, it´s my work. Spanish is my work. So when I get back to the pension, finish planning, and change into my pj´s, the last thing I wanna do is struggle through conversation with Elder Ponce. Which leads to a lot of silence. I kind of have learned to like silence. I´ve.... kind of had to.

The USB for the camera like shut down the entire computer I’m on when I tried to get the pictures and send them. I don´t think it´s going to work, so you might just have to wait for me to send my SD card home. Maybe you could send one down and I could send one home or something like that. I really do want you to see the pics. It was quite a shame. Especially because we went to the cathedral of the Plata today. I was trying not to go all AP art history nerd on everyone, but I couldn´t resist. It was quite amazing. Gothic style. I only dreamed of seeing a cathedral like that in my life. Wow. This really is the perfect place for me. Art history, culture, food like Europe. Warm culture and religiously accepting people of South America.

Random detail dad. You know how they say green olives are strange? Some of the Elders here are convinced their real disgusting, and totally foreign, only to be had in Argentina. Having been raised on green olives in our house my whole life, I fearlessly devoured a ton of green olives right in front of them. Yeah. Fearless.

This week I had an exchange with Elder Wells and went out to Altos de San Lorenzo. This place wasn´t like Ensenada. This was where the immigrants from Paraguay and Bolivia lived. Orient yourself to cliché images of the third world. Dirt roads. Brick shacks with tin roofs. This place had it all. The best part was, we weren´t on bikes. Somehow, I felt like my mission started right there... for real. Something about tracting on foot in the destroyed neighborhood. I wasn´t afraid or anything, very humbled though. Very very humbled.

We ate at a Paraguay family´s house, and I finally met my match for the food. It was this cold chicken cabbage stuff with a real sour sauce. With the help of about two gallons of fanta, I managed to down it fast enough.

I found I understood a lot more of the Paraguay Spanish. This Castellano stuff here really is strange.

I love the work here. I´m starting to actually be able to teach during the lessons instead of just bearing testimony. I know this church is true. Especially el Libro de Mormon. What a miracle that book is. What an incredible miracle. Truly it is the cornerstone of our faith. I love this opportunity, to be out here like saints of old bearing testimony of the prophet Joseph and the word of God.