New Year Nostalgia

Four months left of my mission, and sometimes I wonder what God is preparing for my future. Serving a mission is hard--the hardest thing I've ever done--but it is beautiful when I look ahead. I hope that I will look back in 30 years and see how knocking doors and teaching lessons and training missionaries prepared me to serve in powerful ways and in new places.

President Monson says that "the future is as bright as your faith."

Consider the bright faith of my mother. Thirty years ago, she did not have a husband or children or grandchildren. I was not even a thought. But she had faith, and God was preparing her.

My mom is in Logan, Utah, today, but she must be afflicted with the same New Year's nostalgia that is infecting me in Oklahoma City. Here I deliver her words as my own, hoping that my path will become a reflection of hers one day:

May I take a moment to get nostalgic? As we were gathered for Christmas Eve, I surveyed our little gathering and marveled. Thirty Christmases ago, I was with my birth family for the annual celebration. Little did I know that would be the last Christmas with my family of origin, as a child, in my parent's home. That was 1983. Now in 2013, I have spent this Christmas with my own family, multiple generations. I could not have even imagined all of these wonderful people in my life 30 years ago: my sweet  husband (whom was serving his mission in 1983), my incredible children (each of them such a welcomed blessing), my children's spouses, and tender grandchildren (all five!). None of them were present in my 1983 life, and now they are the soul focus of my earthly life. As we hung up those 13 stockings on Christmas Eve (knowing that one more is in Oklahoma, plus one more on the way,), I marveled at my life, my family, my miracle. I remember very distinctly one thought that came to me on the day your dad and I were married. We were in the sealing room, filled to the brim with loved ones. I wondered if my children were witnessing our marriage, the beginning of our family. I love my family! I love living as a family! I want all of my family to be sealed  forever. I am so grateful that we are sealed together.

I am so grateful to serve a full-time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints! I want to share the gift of eternal families with the world! Lasting family units are founded upon the teachings of Jesus Christ, including the living words of God given through prophets and ordinances available only in His holy temples.

Let us have faith in the future. The Savior came, and He will come again. His role in my life is not limited by the number of pages of the Bible or by the length of my life. His Atonement is infinite.

Excuse the rampaging, ranging testimony of a missionary. It is a weakness of mine to wax tangential with truth. But it's true, you know, however poorly I express it. It's all true.

Happy New Year!

*Mormon Message of the week: Look Not Behind Thee

http://www.mormonchannel.org/video/mormon-messages?v=910930409001&cid=HPTH122613304&im=true

*Conference talk of the week: Look Ahead and Believe by Elder Dube

http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/look-ahead-and-believe?lang=eng

Christmas Video for Y'all

This is what happens when the ward mission leader is a professional photographer! Thank you, thank you, Brother Randy Lusk of Alpha-Omega Productions. Please click on the link and then click "play."

http://www.aopro.com/vimeo/okc2/

Christmas Chuckles or "Ode to Sister Ott"

Sister Ott's finest offering to our companionship was her daily joke. She abandoned me for another area six weeks ago, but the dear soul sent a Christmas gift of witticisms. For your laughing pleasure--the puny genius of Sister Sara Ott:

1) Britney Spears is meeting with Mormon missionaries and they teach her about the Word of Wisdom. She promises to live it even though she likes her coffee. Later, when they call her and ask how it's going, she sings, "Oops! I did it again!"

2) Justin Timberlake converts and he opens up a shop for missionaries; when you walk in you hear, "Here I come in my suit and tie/suit and tie."

3) Christina Agilara meets some Mormon missionaries on the street and when they ask if they can teach her she starts singing, "Come on over, come on over, baby."

4) Two Mormon missionaries knock on Nicolas Cage's door and he says to them, "I was knowing you'd come."

5) Ace of Base walks into a bar and the bartender refuses to serve them so they pray about which way to go. Immediately they meet some Mormon missionaries and want to meet with them. The missionaries are surprised and ask why. Ace of Base starts singing, "I saw the sign."

6) Why did Sister Stewart cross the road? She had an appointment on the other side. Why did Sister Ott cross the road? She was Sister Stewart's companion.

7) There were two young men dressed up in suits that walk to a bar and the bartender asks what they want and then they are so frightened and yelled, "We're not supposed to be in here! We're Mormon!"

8) All the members of Nsync convert and decide to go on missions. They all have their farewells in the same ward and for their musical number they all sing, "Bye Bye, Bye."

9) One Direction begins investigating the church and they're trying to keep their thoughts clean. As their mantra they're always singing, "Get out, get out, get out of my head."

10) The members of Nsync are out on their missions and there's one investigator deciding who will baptize him. Nsync breaks out into, "It's gonna be me."

11) Mormon missionaries teach Johnny Depp a lesson and he won't agree to baptism. The missionaries ask him about it and he says that he would end up cutting of someone's wrist and nose because of his scissor hands.

12) Carrie Underwood doesn't know how to pray so some missionaries teach her in a lesson. Later she almost ends up in a car wreck and starts praying for Jesus to take the wheel.

13) All the members of Backstreet Boys convert and find out that they're all in the same ward one Sunday and afterwards starting singing, "Everybody...Backstreet's Back."

14) How many missionaries have graduated from BYU? None! No missionaries go there; they're all RMs.

15) Zachary Levi is given a Book of Mormon and starts to read it and when he meets with the missionaries they ask him what he thought about it and he starts singing, "At last I see the light, and is't like the fog has lifted."

16) Two Mormon missionaries knock on a preacher's house and ask if they can teach him a lesson. He says no, but asks why they knocked on his door. Their reply was, "We thought you were a devil worshiper because your house number is 666."

17) Sleeping Beauty converted to the church because she needed to be married to someone forever--100 years is an awfully long time to sleep!

And my personal favorite-not included in her Christmas e-mail, but once mentioned to a frazzled, less-active woman:
"If you're having a terrible day, don't worry about it. Even Moses was once a basket-case."

Merry Christmas, dear friends and family!!

Creation, Fall, Atonement

I think I have writer's block. I've never had it before, so I can't be sure. The problem is, there is so much loveliness that I can't sort it out into a thesis, main idea, or topic sentences. My sentence structure has been hijacked by happiness!

Forgive the poor writing. Just feel the spirit of God's love, if you will. Pretty sure that's what Moroni requested (Ether 12), and God granted his wish. Perhaps He'll do the same for me.

Creation, Fall, Atonement. The pattern relives itself each day of my life. Everyday becomes a redemptive tale, my very own book of Genesis. Yesterday, for example:

Creation
Sunday. A perfect day, as every day is at first. I wake up at 6:22 am, turn on the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and shower. Rush to ward council. Rush back. Study. Microwave leftover butternut squash soup. Go to church. Make copies, talk, counsel, drive. The day continues, and as it progresses, I begin to fall.

Fall
First Fall? Getting snappy with my companion. She's having a bad morning, I can tell. She's not one to self-disclose, but I push for details. Thoughtless of me. Second fall? Under-prepared for ward council. I didn't know they'd want copies of our Family Mission Plans! If only I had planned better! Third fall? My control-freak took over Sisters Best's* project. That was five days ago, actually. But the fall takes life again when a member unknowingly jokes about it. I fell the first time, and I fall again when I feel the fresh guilt of having hurt a friend. I continue to fall all day long.

Atonement
If not for a daily Atonement (yes, even hourly), I would be a wretched creature. The prophet Jacob says that the first judgment that comes upon me "must needs remain to an endless duration" (2Nephi 9:7). So I would be forever fallen: a mean companion, an under-prepared missionary, a controlling friend. But that is not who I am, and it is not who God intends me to be.

The simple gifts of Jesus Christ helped me all day long. I apologized to my companion. I will not push next time. I'll study her needs and desires and pray to know how to communicate better. We ran out of the room and made copies. Next time we'll be better prepared. And Sister Best if forgiving.

I am forever grateful for the eternal gift of Jesus Christ. Because He lives, I will continue to create good things in myself and in the world around me, even when I sometimes fall.

Quarter Centurian

Happy birthday to me! "Grandma Stewart", that's me: the oldest sister of the mission!

Restoration-Twinkie Metaphor

My comp Sister Ellis and her amazing Restoration-Twinkie metaphor (read the boxes!!)

Thanksgiving 2013

Twelve missionaries, the mission president and his wife, our office couple, and one very cute family from the ward. Sister Walkenhorst makes apple pie just like my mom. And they seated us with the children! Yesss!

Thirds Cousins

Sisters Stewart (distantly related, but we call ourselves cousins...if only we didn't have nearly identical names too, then our mail wouldn't be such a debacle!) 

Thanks-Giving Indeed

Holidays on the mission are lovely. God can't provide what you love most (your family), but He makes up for it in the details.

We received a good-morning text from one of our investigators that read, "Please enjoy today as though you were Joseph Smith on the day the church was restored."

I'm not sure that we accomplished this per say, but we came as close as we could.

Our first dinner appointment was with the Galandra family. She makes potatoes and stuffing just like my mom. And he is a nut about Jewish mysticism. Three hour conversation about the gospel from a Jewish perspective? Yes, please. Their daughter sat on the couch with her nose in a book the entire meal; how very Stewart of her.

Our second dinner appointment - distanced three hours apart from the first, just in time for the stomach to crave gravy again - was a missionary smorgasbord. Twelve missionaries, the mission president and his wife, our office couple, and one very cute family from the ward. Sister Walkenhorst makes apple pie just like my mom. And they seated us with the children! Yessss. For the oldest unmarried grandchild, the kid's table has always been my appointed place. The company was perfect. The five year-old exclaimed over and over about the bits of sausage in the stuffing. The twelve year-old was thrilled to tell the sister missionaries about her upcoming musical. And the grumpy seven year-old kept sneaking food onto his sister's plate. These are the details that make Thanksgiving sweet.

We filled the hours remaining by visiting a widow (forty-five minutes looking at family photos) and singing in the Alzheimer's ward at a local care facility (amazing how they forget their own families and yet remember Christmas songs).

Happy Thanksgiving. Happy Christmas! Happy life, dear friends.
God is the author of all this good.

Jesus Speaks To Women

The General Relief Society Meeting is gentler than the General Priesthood Session, and for good reason. Men and women respond to different styles of repentance invitations.

I can't speak for my gender, but I know myself. I respond to kindness and empathy. I rise according to the excellency of my role model. I don't need to be told that I'm doing poorly. Tell me that I'm doing a job well, and I'll do it better. Sharpness only makes me pitiable and helpless.

Satan knows this.

His words to me are biting. He tells me that I'm falling short of expectations. He tells me that I'm unlovable. He points out everything that I do wrong, until my wrongs overwhelm all of my rights.

The Savior knows better.

When he spoke to women, He appealed to their goodness. He taught them to simplify, and to focus on priorities (Luke 10:38-42). He protected them from judgmental crowds (John 8:1-11). He appreciated their gifts, and He often lodged in their homes and ate food that they prepared.

When his disciples criticized Mary Magdalene's sincere offering, He stepped in as her protector. His words have been ringing in my head all week:

"Let her alone; why trouble ye her? She hath wrought a good work on me...She hath done what she could." (Mark 14:3-8)

When I notice myself feeling overwhelmed and inadequate, the Savior steps in to deflect the lies. Satan says, "You're not a good Sister Training Leader. You're not prepared for this lesson. You didn't meet your goals. You don't know how to bless these people."

Jesus says, "Let her alone! Why trouble ye her? She hath done what she could."

My best, no matter how poor by comparison, is always pleasing to the Lord.

Great Expectations

My Expectations:
Looking good, sounding good, saying the right thing, being on time. Being gracious, patient, forgiving. Loving my companion. Finding investigators easily. Teaching powerfully. Loving and being loved by members. Improving daily. Pristine apartment. Safe driving. Taking care of other missionaries. Ministering to others. Planning powerful lessons. Following the Spirit.

Mission President's Expectations:
Go on eight exchanges in a five-week transfer. Maintain a model area. Train a new missionary. Obey all of the rules. Score high numbers.

God's Expectation:
Love


Expectations eat me up. Perfection is what I read in Matthew 7, and perfection is the thing that ever escapes my grasp.

But focusing on Jesus Christ clears things up. When I am calm and forget the perceived judgments of others. I feel the Spirit whisper that I am doing a good job. That I can do better still. And that God is pleased.

Saved

The sweet, dirty smell of weed rushed out at us when the man opened the door. He looked a little gruff but his approach was not unkind, and so we told him honestly why we were there.

"We are representatives of Jesus Christ, and we felt that we should stop and offer to pray with you." It was true. We were lost, and we passed by the street three times before we finally heeded the prompting to get out and knock on a few doors.

"No thanks, I already prayed today. I'm a Christian, and I'm saved by the blood."

And with that he closed the door.

The irony filled me with questions-saved from what? From weed? Maybe Christ would like to save you from those drugs. Or from a bad marriage. Or from unkind words and bad habits and cheap living. There is a better salvation!

That is what I want to say. If I had the voice of an angel, I would tell Oklahoma that salvation requires us to emulate the Man whose blood saves us.

"Saved" is the word on Oklahoman lips. It's so common, it's almost cheap. It becomes an excuse. They don't need to go to church because they're saved. Don't worry about praying with them: they're saved. So they're living out of wedlock and mistreating their children-what's it to you? They're saved!

But God is saving us for greater purposes. For lasting relationships, for beautiful surroundings, for gracious words, for inspiriting service and uplifting occupations and mighty knowledge. He's saving us from low-living, degrading behaviors, and debilitating thoughts.

Emulation. That is the essence of salvation. The moment we begin to emulate the Savior Jesus Christ, we experience a sanctifying, ennobling change within ourselves. And as our hearts change, our lives change. And then it's infectious. My goodness rubs off on you; yours rubs onto your family; your family blesses your community; and before we know it, the world is a better place.

Salvation is only in and through the Savior Jesus Christ. And the way to enjoy this sacred gift is to become like Him! Read His words, and do His works. Obedience, self-discipline, sacrifice. This is the way.

This is the salvation of Jesus Christ.

Liberal

I thought Mormons were generally conservative. Missionaries, more than anyone, should be conservative. Then why is my heart so liberal?

KJ told us that he couldn't pray with us because he was Elohist. He started to shut the door, and I said, "Wait. Who are you? What did you say you believe?"

And he told us. For one hour we stood in the rain and asked him questions. We exchanged beliefs and compared doctrine, but mostly we just listened.

Jehovah as Korean man in the early 1900s? Well, I claim a 14 year-old American boy in the 1800s as prophet. Mother God? Hmm, I have no problem with that. Intense religious fervor? Again, I relate too well. But we both believe in Jesus Christ, in families, in divine inheritances.

His millennial beliefs differ. The timing, order, and characters are unusual. But still, the only thing I can feel to bear testimony of is that God loves all of His children, and that He adores our quest for truth.

And so our conversation ended thus: "KJ, thank you for being a disciple of Jesus Christ! You reflect the spirit of Peter. When thousands left from following Jesus, the Savior asked his disciples if they would also leave him. Peter said, Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe, and are sure that thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God. (John 6:67-69) We are also sure that Jesus is the Christ. We bear testimony of Him, as do you."

And with words of mutual admiration, we left our newly-made friend and went our way.

Loving others. Respecting their beliefs. Listening. Asking. Admiring. Learning. These are the days of a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Exclamation Point, Smiley Face

I fear that my writing is becoming stagnant. There are really only so many ways to say "God must really love me; let me tell you how." So once again, I attempt to convey the humorous affection of our Heavenly Father.

I went on exchanges with my beloved MTC companion this week. Sister Cooper and I have been out for eleven months now, and we agree that text messages from missionaries should end with an exclamation point and a smiley face. Elders have contested against this uber-happy use of the phone, but after nearly a year as a missionary, I find nothing so happy and worth exclaiming as is God's love.

As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, our lives (as our text messages) should always convey a spirit of "exclamation point, smiley-face!"

When I tell people that we believe in the Book of Mormon, in a living prophet, and in the restoration of ancient truths, I say it with a metaphorical "exclamation point, smiley-face." It shows in my face, in my tone of voice, and in the choices I make. It's not just a bunch of doctrinal dogma, it's life-changing, highly motivating truth. We believe that God cares about us as individuals. We believe that we are innately good, and that we can be better. We believe the radically generous truths taught by Jesus Christ-that we are here on earth for the express purpose of blessing others and learning joy.

So let us live what we preach. Let us pour over the scriptures, sink into prayer, and jump to serve our neighbors!

Say It, Sister Hinckley

"We women have a lot to learn about simplifying our lives. We have to decide what is important and then move along at a pace that is comfortable for us. We have to develop the maturity to stop trying to prove something. We have to learn to be content with what we are."

~Sister Marjorie Pay Hinckley, the ever-sensible and easily-humored wife of beloved Prophet Gordon B. Hinckley

Miracles

"We become the stories we tell."

This is one of my most beloved spiritual truths. The phrase was Spirit-inspired, and it has become my creed of sorts. It defines the music I listen to, the books I read, the classes I take, the way I use the internet, and the friends I choose. It defines how I write and how I talk. It is with this spirit that I feel to share my miracles today. If we would do might things, then we must spin our tellings of daily life as the miracles that they truly are.

I find that my miracles usually take shape in the people around me:

Glinda Hildegaard*

Outspoken. German.

I tried to think of five word to describe Sister Hildegaard, but I think that these two will suffice. From what I know of Germans, the first word could actually be engulfed by the second, and "German" might be the only necessary descriptor.

Maybe it's the Schleckmann in my blood, but I rather adore Germans.

Sister Hildegaard was one of our first member visits, and she continues to be the highlight of my new area. Sister Ott warned me that Sister Hildegaard was very inactive and wouldn't be pushed into anything. This proved to be true on all accounts.

But by some miracle, Sister Hildegaard decided that she liked me, and that she wants to come to church. She dictated the content and length of our 75-minute visit, and what resulted was a lengthy exposition on why the church is superior and why she might want to come...could we arrange a ride for her? And bless the member who brought her to church - she also took her on a tour of the temple grounds. So Sister Hildegaard, who won't be pushed and who thinks that I'm the bees knees (bless her for it, I was feeling rather frightened and unloved) is coming to church. And looking froward to the temple. :)

George Thompson*

"Intellectual blackjack dealer."

This is how we describe George to members and missionaries.

Thirty-three years old with a bachelors degree in philosophy. A dreamer, as all 20- and 30-year-olds should be. Insists on sailboats and trips to South America, and hopes that the Plan of Salvation will allow for such things. In response to his first exposure to Elder Oaks at General Conference he said, "He's scary." ...We're praying that he'll look past the severity of the commandments and start enjoying them.

George is a miracle of a personal sort. He was the first investigator that I taught in our new area, a true kindred spirit. We introduced Adam and Eve, and he immediately referenced Sunset Limited, a compelling book and one of my favorite works of literature. I was tickled.

His current concern is that he might not fit into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because he asks too many questions. Ha! Matthew 7 long ago put that worry to rest for me. As an avid question-asker (and recovering doubter), I take seriously the admonition "Ask, and ye shall receive; knock and it shall be opened unto you." It is a miracle to share my testimony with one who will ask questions as I do.

Ray Zalufa*

Mid-thirties. Native-American. Two adorable little girls and a non-member wife. Ray was baptized as a teenager, but hasn't attended church since then. We knocked on his door my first day in Moore. He's not listed on the ward records, so we were bemused when he asked us if we had eaten dinner.

We returned two days later to have dinner with the family and to teach primary songs to his little girls. Now we are praying for Ray and his entire family to join us at church.

God is serious about His rescue, and He allows us to be participants.

Most miraculous of all is the realization that God is preparing people to receive Him, through us. His work is exciting ("the most remarkable era in the history of the church," says Elder Perry), and WE get to be His hands!!

For behold, angels are declaring it unto many at this time in our land; and this is for the purpose of preparing the hearts of the children of men to receive his word.  Alma 13:24

*Names changed, as usual. I hope that I can remember their real names post-mission! :)

Overwhelmed

Is it acceptable to express weakness in a public venue? Authors traditionally await wisdom or a change of situation before exposition.

But today I need to write, and you happen to be the listener at the other end.

1. Much is good. This must be acknowledged first. Moore is lovely. My companion is bold.* General Conference was downright invigorating. I have the squishiest mattress in all the world. My bike can live in our apartment for a while yet because we still have a car. I am fully unpacked, and my ritualistic cleaning of the apartment is halfway finished. I have much to be grateful  for.

2. I am stressed. I don't know why. Maybe it's all that getting lost. Or trying to replace a beloved sister missionary. It could be the unrelenting pace.  I haven't even begun my two-transfers per week Sister Training schedule yet. All I know is that I want to curl up in a ball and sleep. Or just be alone. Or have a good cry. And there's not much to be done except to endure, and to trust that things will be better.

I don't know how this quote fits into my current situation, but it seems suitable manna for the day. Perhaps it will strengthen you, too:

"We may be insignificant and contemptible in our own eyes and in the eyes of other, but the truth remains that we are children of God." _quoted by President Eyering, Oct 2012 General Conference.

We are children of God. So we push on, keep smiling, say as many kind words as we can, and build the Kingdom of God the best we know to.


*Bold. An anecdote should capture her unabashed style. I commented on my second afternoon that perhaps we should try a new door approach. She said nothing, but at the next door she applied my flippant commentary. A grumpy middle-aged man answered the door. "Hello, we're missionaries and we'd like to sing a song for you today," she said. I turned and stared at her; singing was not a part of the script. "Thanks, but we'ere Baptist," he said. His tone said, "Yeah right. Get off my porch, you punks." I was relieved until my companion responded, "Yeah, but we can still sing to you, can't we?"

I couldn't help it. I laughed. My face went bright pink, and I laughed. Sister Ott stared at me soberly and said, "First verse of Nearer My God To Thee?" She was so serious that all I could do was sing. I can't decide who was more uncomfortable--me, or the homeowner. We sang, shook hands, and left. I continued to laugh all the way up the street and as we drove home. This is going to be an exciting transfer.

Relinquishing Control

A token of wisdom stands out today. Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles shared this parting piece of advice with a new mission president:

"Remember, it's a whole lot more fun when you realize that you're not the one in control."

Two and a half years later, the now-seasoned mission president shared this advice with me. I sat in a puddle of tears, depressed and homesick, and this is what he told me.

It seemed cruel. Up until then in my life, obtaining excellence and taking control were my mutual quest. Now President Taylor was asking me to obtain excellence whilst relinquishing control. It struck me as an entirely incompatible request.

I thought that being an excellent missionary meant spartan obedience and rigorous diligence. That is what others emphasized. Over and over and over again, "obedience, obedience, obedience." Forget the people, just follow the rules.

Whoops, there went both the first and second great commandments (Matt 22:36-40). My peace of mind went with them.

I agonized about handbooks and the ticking of the clock. We'd set up appointments, and the investigators wouldn't show up. Grr. My companion wasn't ready to leave the apartment at precisely 10 am. Augh! We'd knock on doors and not everyone was nice. Humph. Smiles and kind words and true doctrine didn't always equate to success.

Every day represented dozens of small devastations. I'd pour in all of my effort, and it seemed that President Bednar was right: we were not in control.

Only it wasn't fun yet.

Enter Sister Leavitt. She put on ridiculous song-and-dance routines for crabby less-actives. She laughed loud and often. She belted the "Star Spangled Banner" as we walked up the street. She was unhurried and unworried, and I thought it rather strange.

Then Sister Morrell came into my life. When we weren't reaching our daily goals for lessons taught and new investigators, she set new goals for us: Buffalo Pictures. We searched Lawton for all of its hallmark buffalo statues, and she put on a show of scrambling for her camera to preserve each precious buffalo for her posterity; she filled up an entire camera card on buffalo pictures alone. It made me laugh. And it was something that we could control.

Now I am with Sister Howard, and I find myself using neon pink whiteboard markers and a glittery styrofoam microphone at district meetings; I author a well-delivered prank on occasion; and I don't worry so much.

What does all this have to do with relinquishing control: I feel a little radical, but I'm learning to understand what Elder Bednar said. President Packer put it into even prettier terms:


"Live so you can abandon yourself and not read from the scripts."

God is real, and He takes care of me.

I know because none of those tiny daily heartbreaks have a lasting edge on them. I can sing a song, take a picture of a buffalo, or speak into our sparkly microphone, and the hurt is gone. Excellence doesn't mean that everything turns out the way I want it to, when I want it to.

"Excellence" means following the Spirit, and I can do that regardless of the outcome.

Trusting in God means diligent effort and a humble acknowledgement that He is in charge. He loves better, sees more clearly, and plans more thoroughly than I do (Isaiah 55:8-9). Really, He's the only one I feel comfortable giving the reigns to.

I still obey, but I don't worry. And now it's getting to be fun.

* * *

"We need to trust in the Lord and in His timing that a positive response to our prayers and rescue efforts can occur. We do all we can...and remember that there are some things that must be left to the Lord." --Elder Richard G. Scott, For Peace At Home

Transfers

Every six weeks, I experience 45 seconds of sheer horror.

The phone call is short, but the outcomes are significant. The district leader calls and tells you whether you stay or whether you go.

The answer this week was "go."

Go away from Lawton, from your favorite area. From braille Book of Mormons and that darling family of three little girls. From Lawton where the members love you and the fields smell good and people at doors are almost always nice.

Go to Moore, to the heartland of the recent tornado devastation. To Moore, where the Mission President and the Assistants to the President dwell. To Moore, where you might have a bike instead of a car.

So I cried at first. We both did. Sister Howard and I sobbed the loud messy sobs that shouldn't be had in public. But then I was grateful.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. Sleep fled because there were too many blessings to count, and they're not as calming as counting sheep. Finally at midnight I woke Sister Howard up (she wasn't sleeping either) and we wrapped up in blankets and ate cold cereal in the living room. We sat and talked about how much God has blessed us, and then I went to bed.

And now I am happy and well-rested and ready for an adventure.

This is transfers.

Plagiarized Profundities

I believe in recycled wisdom. So my profound thought of the week is a blatant act of theft. Thank you, Aunt Karen, for providing the mental and spiritual stimuli.

You wrote a letter this week that reflects how I have changed, and how I yet hope to change. It is beautiful enough to demand an audience larger than my solitary eyes. Although a mission is the life circumstance of discussion, I find this letter reflective of any woman's walk with Christ:

Dear Sister Stewart,

You asked in your last letter how a mission prepares you for motherhood. I don't think any other experience could be better preparation for motherhood or life in general.

On a mission (again, insert your own life circumstance), you learn to do some very difficult things--AND keep going; you learn to put others first; you learn that the most basic things (here I think of 20-minute naps, healthy snacks, and long walks) make a huge difference; you learn the great value of one person and every person; you learn to work with great strength and diligence; and you learn that you can only rely on the Lord.

The next part of the letter is my favorite. I put in poetic verse because it strikes me as unusually profound:

When a child cries, I know I can take care of them.
When a sick baby needs to be held for days, I know it won't last forever.
When someone asks a question about faith, I know what to answer and I know my answer is true.

Doves, Ducks, and Misheard Prayers

"A good sense of humor helps revelation."
--Elder Richard G. Scott

My comp gave me a supreme compliment during companionship inventory (a sort of weekly "I-love-you;-Please-Be-Better" correction session). She said that I am great at laughing at myself! Haha, this is one of the great gifts of the mission. The days are too long and discouraging without laughter, so I have developed an uncanny knack for making a fool of myself.

In fact, I should provide a small anecdote of my foolery. It may benefit you this day.

Sometimes I forget people's names when we pray with them. This is understandably awkward. Last week I approached a gentleman and misheard both his task and his name. He said he was duck hunting. I prayed that he would do well "dove hunting." (In my head, I wondered why on earth they were wasting bullets on doves. It wasn't until Sister Howard fell into peals of laughter that I realized that he hadn't said "dove" hunting at all.) On top of that, I forgot his name. "Father in Heaven. Please bless Brother...Turner. NO! Brother...Porter?..." That's what I said. Bless my companion, she didn't even help me out. His name was Brother Bradford or something entirely unrelated. At the end of the brief interchange, the unruffled (and uninterested) gentleman said, "Well, bet that's a first. It'll give you something to laugh about in the car later."

And oh, we did so.