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.