Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Ten Mission Truths
Hermana Dupape challenged me to author a list. The numerical limit is ten. The experiences span the last 18 months. Ready, set, write:
1. God loves me.
My journal says so. Four hundred fifty days of repeated chorus: "This is how I saw His love today." New stories, same theme.
2. God loves you.
Let's pretend that the people that I've met over the past 18 months constitute a random sampling of all of God's children. Drawing upon my excellent inner statistical skills*, I have learned that God loves approximately...well, everyone. He definitely loves a lot of people that I had never considered before.
He loves the drug dealer with whom we prayed at the Raindance apartments last February. I know, because I felt compassion for the man when he told the story of his debased, abused life. He loves nine-year old Avery** in Lawton. He led us to her because he knew that she needed a pair of adoring sister missionaries and the love of a doting ward. God also loves the man who pulled a knife on us that summer in his apartment breezeway. I know because I felt like laughing and conversing with the kid despite the seriousness of the situation. We prayed for him again that night, and I'm sure I'll never forget his name -Steven- to pray for him.
God has given me spiritual (if not statistical) eyes. I've seen something of the human soul that quite surprised me (D&C 18:10).
3. The Priesthood is real.
Elders are weird. They wear ties and dress shirts every day. They don't date. They play sports only once a week, and then they play with uncanny sportsmanship. I'm sure they're just boys, but I find them peculiar.
I hear what regular teenage boys say, and I see what they do. Elders are weird, but in the most sacred sense. Weird like God is weird. Weird like I hope my husband will be weird. Weird simply because they are separated from the world and live on a higher plane.
I will be eternally grateful for Priesthood holders, and for the example of teenage disciples of Jesus Christ (Matthew 10). This is how God teaches us to be men, or to be women, and to work together. The Priesthood is His way.
4. I am happy.
And I can be happy even when my humanoid agenda gets all crumpled up and frustrated. Here is the secret: Kind words. Find them wherever you can. Speak them, sing them, incorporate them in increasingly complex ways into your vocabulary. Tell them to others. Shout them enthusiastically when the situation is dark. Listen to them. Search them out in books. Spend time with people who use them (children are obviously the best).
I choose to be happy.
5. Shouting praises is fun.
I've wondered about this "shouting praises" thing. The scriptures speak of heavenly noises, but I wasn't sure how to translate them into everyday vernacular. I thought I knew what it was when I became acquainted with Pentecostal Christians, but it didn't quite fit. Then I met Hermana Dupape.
Shouting praises is discussing miracles every day. It is saying, "Sister. You won't BELIEVE what I learned from the scriptures today!!" It is giving your companion a standing ovation just because she exists. Putting a robust operatic tune to psalms and singing them aloud. It is jumping up and clicking one's heels while tracting. It is authentic and exuberant and real.
6. God loves the dreamer.
He has answered every pulsating plea of my heart. Sometimes I start to doubt Him, but it's really just a matter of time. I write it down, I pray about it, I visualize it in my head. And it happens! Graduation and Jerusalem and nannying and missions...it all happens. Someday the list will include travel and PhDs and marriage and children. Ether promises the faithful that they can hope for a better world (Ether 12). It's sort of Matthew 5-7ish.
8. "Prayer is better than sleep." ~Kismet
Not that sleep isn't fabulous. But 18 months without naps demands alternative modes of rest. The lunchtime cat-nap is commendable, as is the honest journal entry. But the most restful non-sleep that I have yet discovered is the heavenly gift of prayer.
9. God loves all of His children.
We might reasonably claim a fullness, but I find sacred perspectives in all religions. I hereby applaud the Jehovah's Witnesses for tracting with us. The Baptists for being loud about Christ. Non Denominationals for including everyone. Church of Christ for giving homage to striving families. Muslims for loving prophets.
"Perhaps the Lord needs such men on the outside of His Church to help it along. They...can do more good for the cause where the Lord has placed them, than anywhere else...hence some are drawn into the fold and receive a testimony of the truth; while others remain unconverted...the beauties and glories of the gospel being veiled temporarily from their view, for a wise purpose. The Lord will open their eyes in His own due time. God is using more than one people for the accomplishment of His great and marvelous work. The Latter-day Saints cannot do it all. It is too vast, too arduous for any one people." (Orson F.Whitney)
10. "If we would be eminently successful, Jesus is our example." ~President Spencer W. Kimball
Many years ago I read Joseph Smith History, and then prayed for God to introduce me to His Son. I envied Joseph for his personal knowledge of Jesus Christ.
God is answering my prayer. The introduction is not physical. For me, it is through stories and poetry and adventurous human interactions. Matthew 5-7, the great keynote lecture of two nations (3 Nephi 12), shows me how to live and think. Eleven companions have provided a practical field for practicing Christlike attributes. Inquisitive investigators and antagonistic strangers have blessed me with books of inspired questions and spiritual truths.
When I boil it all down and sift through for an overarching conclusion, this is what I find:
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me;
Because the Lord hath anointed me
To preach good tidings unto the meek.
He hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to them that are bound.
...To comfort all that mourn;
...To give unto them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
(Isaiah 61)
* I barely scraped through college Stats, but it's something I aspire to!
** Name changed
1. God loves me.
My journal says so. Four hundred fifty days of repeated chorus: "This is how I saw His love today." New stories, same theme.
2. God loves you.
Let's pretend that the people that I've met over the past 18 months constitute a random sampling of all of God's children. Drawing upon my excellent inner statistical skills*, I have learned that God loves approximately...well, everyone. He definitely loves a lot of people that I had never considered before.
He loves the drug dealer with whom we prayed at the Raindance apartments last February. I know, because I felt compassion for the man when he told the story of his debased, abused life. He loves nine-year old Avery** in Lawton. He led us to her because he knew that she needed a pair of adoring sister missionaries and the love of a doting ward. God also loves the man who pulled a knife on us that summer in his apartment breezeway. I know because I felt like laughing and conversing with the kid despite the seriousness of the situation. We prayed for him again that night, and I'm sure I'll never forget his name -Steven- to pray for him.
God has given me spiritual (if not statistical) eyes. I've seen something of the human soul that quite surprised me (D&C 18:10).
3. The Priesthood is real.
Elders are weird. They wear ties and dress shirts every day. They don't date. They play sports only once a week, and then they play with uncanny sportsmanship. I'm sure they're just boys, but I find them peculiar.
I hear what regular teenage boys say, and I see what they do. Elders are weird, but in the most sacred sense. Weird like God is weird. Weird like I hope my husband will be weird. Weird simply because they are separated from the world and live on a higher plane.
I will be eternally grateful for Priesthood holders, and for the example of teenage disciples of Jesus Christ (Matthew 10). This is how God teaches us to be men, or to be women, and to work together. The Priesthood is His way.
4. I am happy.
And I can be happy even when my humanoid agenda gets all crumpled up and frustrated. Here is the secret: Kind words. Find them wherever you can. Speak them, sing them, incorporate them in increasingly complex ways into your vocabulary. Tell them to others. Shout them enthusiastically when the situation is dark. Listen to them. Search them out in books. Spend time with people who use them (children are obviously the best).
I choose to be happy.
5. Shouting praises is fun.
I've wondered about this "shouting praises" thing. The scriptures speak of heavenly noises, but I wasn't sure how to translate them into everyday vernacular. I thought I knew what it was when I became acquainted with Pentecostal Christians, but it didn't quite fit. Then I met Hermana Dupape.
Shouting praises is discussing miracles every day. It is saying, "Sister. You won't BELIEVE what I learned from the scriptures today!!" It is giving your companion a standing ovation just because she exists. Putting a robust operatic tune to psalms and singing them aloud. It is jumping up and clicking one's heels while tracting. It is authentic and exuberant and real.
6. God loves the dreamer.
He has answered every pulsating plea of my heart. Sometimes I start to doubt Him, but it's really just a matter of time. I write it down, I pray about it, I visualize it in my head. And it happens! Graduation and Jerusalem and nannying and missions...it all happens. Someday the list will include travel and PhDs and marriage and children. Ether promises the faithful that they can hope for a better world (Ether 12). It's sort of Matthew 5-7ish.
8. "Prayer is better than sleep." ~Kismet
Not that sleep isn't fabulous. But 18 months without naps demands alternative modes of rest. The lunchtime cat-nap is commendable, as is the honest journal entry. But the most restful non-sleep that I have yet discovered is the heavenly gift of prayer.
9. God loves all of His children.
We might reasonably claim a fullness, but I find sacred perspectives in all religions. I hereby applaud the Jehovah's Witnesses for tracting with us. The Baptists for being loud about Christ. Non Denominationals for including everyone. Church of Christ for giving homage to striving families. Muslims for loving prophets.
"Perhaps the Lord needs such men on the outside of His Church to help it along. They...can do more good for the cause where the Lord has placed them, than anywhere else...hence some are drawn into the fold and receive a testimony of the truth; while others remain unconverted...the beauties and glories of the gospel being veiled temporarily from their view, for a wise purpose. The Lord will open their eyes in His own due time. God is using more than one people for the accomplishment of His great and marvelous work. The Latter-day Saints cannot do it all. It is too vast, too arduous for any one people." (Orson F.Whitney)
10. "If we would be eminently successful, Jesus is our example." ~President Spencer W. Kimball
Many years ago I read Joseph Smith History, and then prayed for God to introduce me to His Son. I envied Joseph for his personal knowledge of Jesus Christ.
God is answering my prayer. The introduction is not physical. For me, it is through stories and poetry and adventurous human interactions. Matthew 5-7, the great keynote lecture of two nations (3 Nephi 12), shows me how to live and think. Eleven companions have provided a practical field for practicing Christlike attributes. Inquisitive investigators and antagonistic strangers have blessed me with books of inspired questions and spiritual truths.
When I boil it all down and sift through for an overarching conclusion, this is what I find:
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me;
Because the Lord hath anointed me
To preach good tidings unto the meek.
He hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to them that are bound.
...To comfort all that mourn;
...To give unto them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
(Isaiah 61)
* I barely scraped through college Stats, but it's something I aspire to!
** Name changed
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Consolation
So you grieve. Your mission is over. It's natural to be sad.
But occasionally a thought crosses your mind about the life yet to come. It urges you to do the happy dance.
Like the moment that you realize that you can hold babies again!!!
Here is a direct quote from the accursed page 35 of the White Handbook:
As in all other relationships, never be alone with a child. Avoid any behavior that could be misunderstood or that could appear to be inappropriate, including tickling, changing diapers, holding children, and allowing children to sit on your lap. Never babysit children of any age.
These words have been a stab in the heart for 17 months.
And I will never, EVER, ever have to abide by them again, starting in less than two weeks.
Ladies and gentlemen, please consider my consolation:
But occasionally a thought crosses your mind about the life yet to come. It urges you to do the happy dance.
Like the moment that you realize that you can hold babies again!!!
Here is a direct quote from the accursed page 35 of the White Handbook:
As in all other relationships, never be alone with a child. Avoid any behavior that could be misunderstood or that could appear to be inappropriate, including tickling, changing diapers, holding children, and allowing children to sit on your lap. Never babysit children of any age.
These words have been a stab in the heart for 17 months.
And I will never, EVER, ever have to abide by them again, starting in less than two weeks.
Ladies and gentlemen, please consider my consolation:
 |
| Two handsome nephews, ready to dig with me. |
 |
| Two adorable nieces, with one more on the way. |
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Family History on Campus
The Spirit of Elijah is alive and well on the OCCC campus! Triple the referrals!
Endings
I do not like them, Sam I Am. I do not like this cruel wham.
Sometimes I watch planes fly into the airport (why did they put the airport in my area?!), and I get a little euphoric stomach-squeezing sensation. I think about hugging my family members at the airport, and then I want to cry. But then I can't decide whether the tears are happy or sad. And the word "sad" makes me think of everyone that I'm leaving. How rude. Members remind me at least three times daily that I am leaving, and missionaries pipe a continual funeral dirge. It's confusing. Marvelous and horrible and confusing.
I am OCD-organized., so I find solace in lists. God knows this, so He inspires me with list titles to organize my thoughts into hopeful, pragmatic patterns. This week's lists were thus:
1. Things I Will Miss
2. Things I Look Forward To
3. Things I Am Uncertain About
4. Things That Will Remain The Same
The first two lists were quite expansive. If you are reading this blog, know that you are included in number two. I can't wait to see you!!
Number three was comfortingly short. True, the uncertainties loom large (job, location, schooling, dating, etc), but I couldn't come up with more than a pint-sized paragraph no matter how I tried.
Number four is the best list of all. It speaks of eternal things, and of gratitude for a finer vision than I had 18 months ago. I will still serve. I'll feed the people I love. I will teach. I'll probably still annotate the ward list with colors and details about every member I meet until I know them all.
I will still pray in every soulful, hungering, and delighted token of thanks. I will study scriptures with difficult questions in mind. God will still reveal an answer. And I'll attend church with an other-oriented gaze.
I will still love my family, and I will love Oklahomans too.
I will still be Sister Stewart, though I will go by Jenny on most days.
"There seems to be something inside of us that resists endings. Why is this? Because we are made of the stuff of eternity...In His plan, there are no true endings-only everlasting beginnings."
~President Dieter F. Uchdorf
Sometimes I watch planes fly into the airport (why did they put the airport in my area?!), and I get a little euphoric stomach-squeezing sensation. I think about hugging my family members at the airport, and then I want to cry. But then I can't decide whether the tears are happy or sad. And the word "sad" makes me think of everyone that I'm leaving. How rude. Members remind me at least three times daily that I am leaving, and missionaries pipe a continual funeral dirge. It's confusing. Marvelous and horrible and confusing.
I am OCD-organized., so I find solace in lists. God knows this, so He inspires me with list titles to organize my thoughts into hopeful, pragmatic patterns. This week's lists were thus:
1. Things I Will Miss
2. Things I Look Forward To
3. Things I Am Uncertain About
4. Things That Will Remain The Same
The first two lists were quite expansive. If you are reading this blog, know that you are included in number two. I can't wait to see you!!
Number three was comfortingly short. True, the uncertainties loom large (job, location, schooling, dating, etc), but I couldn't come up with more than a pint-sized paragraph no matter how I tried.
Number four is the best list of all. It speaks of eternal things, and of gratitude for a finer vision than I had 18 months ago. I will still serve. I'll feed the people I love. I will teach. I'll probably still annotate the ward list with colors and details about every member I meet until I know them all.
I will still pray in every soulful, hungering, and delighted token of thanks. I will study scriptures with difficult questions in mind. God will still reveal an answer. And I'll attend church with an other-oriented gaze.
I will still love my family, and I will love Oklahomans too.
I will still be Sister Stewart, though I will go by Jenny on most days.
"There seems to be something inside of us that resists endings. Why is this? Because we are made of the stuff of eternity...In His plan, there are no true endings-only everlasting beginnings."
~President Dieter F. Uchdorf
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Feminist
"All human beings -male and female- are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual and premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose."
The Family: A Proclamation To The World
Am I a feminist?
Well, I do believe that men and women should be held to an equal standard of responsibility. But I also maintain a number of unfashionable beliefs:
1. Women aren't (physically) as strong as men. Sure, there's an occasional Helga who serves as the exception, but I don't really mind not running as fast or lifting as much weight. We're different, no competition needed.
2. Men should open doors. Why? Because my dad opens my mom's door. Terrible epistemology? Sure. But it is personal, and this is my blog, so I reserve the right to tell the world as I see it. If a gentleman opens my door, I take it as a commentary about his goodness, and not about my own ability. He doesn't open the door because I am not able, but because he is truly that kind.
3. Men can have the Priesthood. God said so. I'm grateful, and not at all envious. I like wearing dresses. I don't want to pass the sacrament, and thanks be to heaven that I'll never have to be a Bishop.
4. Men and women should work for unity rather than divisiveness.
To the dear Mormon women who are picking a fight with the Priesthood, I applaud your zeal. But I'm not so sure of your cause. I would ask you to explain, but this is a blog. And so I must content myself with my own opinion.
For the last twelve months, I have been serving as a Sister Training Leader. This is a new position in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We work shoulder-to-shoulder with priesthood leaders in wards and in our mission to bring about the work of salvation. We sit in on Mission Leadership Council. We minister to sisters. We strive to uplift the elders. We teach and train and go on exchanges. We are needed, and we like that.
People worried about the influx of so many sister missionaries. They arrived, just two transfers behind me, in great hoards. But there is so little flirting. There is not much bickering. Elders and Sisters are not romantic comrades, and they are not mortal enemies. We are partners. I might venture to say that a crucial element of the work of salvation is for men and women to learn to work together.
The priesthood is like an umbrella. God has asked men to hold the umbrella, and women and children take shelter underneath its expanse. As a woman, there is no power of the priesthood that I lack. I can minister and pray and heal as well as a man, I am sure. I can probably even recite the words and actions of ordinances and blessings. But God reserved the Priesthood as a divine means for teaching men how to be men. And women are all the better for it.
The Priesthood is the highest and most divine organization of female advocacy that exists in the world today. Why should we fight against it?
If we, as women, successfully wrested the Priesthood from men (and, but the way, we won't; it is the Eternal order of God), what would we accomplish? A serious gate-keeping issue, that's what. Already overworked women would simply be left alone (in pants) to bless the sacrament, oversee family spirituality, provide financially, and preside in meetings. No dresses allowed.
No thank you! I'll marry a man who open doors, and I'll wear a dress.
I've worked myself through a heated strand of thought, and I ask myself again, am I a feminist?
Well, yes. But only if I can be a Men-inist also. I insist upon the goodness of man and on the goodness of woman. The Family: A Proclamation To The World* is quite enough for me.
*https://www.lds.org/topics/family-proclamation
The Family: A Proclamation To The World
Am I a feminist?
Well, I do believe that men and women should be held to an equal standard of responsibility. But I also maintain a number of unfashionable beliefs:
1. Women aren't (physically) as strong as men. Sure, there's an occasional Helga who serves as the exception, but I don't really mind not running as fast or lifting as much weight. We're different, no competition needed.
2. Men should open doors. Why? Because my dad opens my mom's door. Terrible epistemology? Sure. But it is personal, and this is my blog, so I reserve the right to tell the world as I see it. If a gentleman opens my door, I take it as a commentary about his goodness, and not about my own ability. He doesn't open the door because I am not able, but because he is truly that kind.
3. Men can have the Priesthood. God said so. I'm grateful, and not at all envious. I like wearing dresses. I don't want to pass the sacrament, and thanks be to heaven that I'll never have to be a Bishop.
4. Men and women should work for unity rather than divisiveness.
To the dear Mormon women who are picking a fight with the Priesthood, I applaud your zeal. But I'm not so sure of your cause. I would ask you to explain, but this is a blog. And so I must content myself with my own opinion.
For the last twelve months, I have been serving as a Sister Training Leader. This is a new position in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We work shoulder-to-shoulder with priesthood leaders in wards and in our mission to bring about the work of salvation. We sit in on Mission Leadership Council. We minister to sisters. We strive to uplift the elders. We teach and train and go on exchanges. We are needed, and we like that.
People worried about the influx of so many sister missionaries. They arrived, just two transfers behind me, in great hoards. But there is so little flirting. There is not much bickering. Elders and Sisters are not romantic comrades, and they are not mortal enemies. We are partners. I might venture to say that a crucial element of the work of salvation is for men and women to learn to work together.
The priesthood is like an umbrella. God has asked men to hold the umbrella, and women and children take shelter underneath its expanse. As a woman, there is no power of the priesthood that I lack. I can minister and pray and heal as well as a man, I am sure. I can probably even recite the words and actions of ordinances and blessings. But God reserved the Priesthood as a divine means for teaching men how to be men. And women are all the better for it.
The Priesthood is the highest and most divine organization of female advocacy that exists in the world today. Why should we fight against it?
If we, as women, successfully wrested the Priesthood from men (and, but the way, we won't; it is the Eternal order of God), what would we accomplish? A serious gate-keeping issue, that's what. Already overworked women would simply be left alone (in pants) to bless the sacrament, oversee family spirituality, provide financially, and preside in meetings. No dresses allowed.
No thank you! I'll marry a man who open doors, and I'll wear a dress.
I've worked myself through a heated strand of thought, and I ask myself again, am I a feminist?
Well, yes. But only if I can be a Men-inist also. I insist upon the goodness of man and on the goodness of woman. The Family: A Proclamation To The World* is quite enough for me.
*https://www.lds.org/topics/family-proclamation
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
FHE Talent Show
How to eat Girl Scout cookies the proper way?
Don the Charlie Chaplin look.
Then begin at the forehead and move the cookie to the mouth via facial contortions.
Rivendell
| This is our favorite neighborhood because all of the street names are from Lord of the Rings. Hola to my inner hobbit. |
Teenage Sage
"There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: But God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape..."
~1 Corinthians 10:13
Tracy* is black. I say this as a hairstylist, not as a racist. He's a 16 year-old with a fabulous two-inch fro who wears neon knee-high socks. His life revolves around tennis and girls. He was baptized six months ago, and he is a leader among the youth. He is unconventional, and for that I love him.
The elders were worried on Saturday night when Tracy didn't answer his phone. He was giving his first talk in sacrament meeting, and they were supposed to help him write it. I'm so glad that they didn't.
What proceeded from Tracy's mouth on Sunday morning was a thirty-minute exposition that made a few people squirm and quite a few people giggle, but which really needed to be said. He was asked to speak about a topic from the For The Strength of Youth** pamphlet. He chose the things that were most pertinent to his teenage lifestyle: Sexual Purity and Media and Entertainment.
"I got involved in some stuff that I'm not going to say," he started. "All you ladies out there might be pure, and I don't want to talk about it."
Alright, I've read Jacob Chapter 2 a few times, and this made my ears perk up. He like Jacob, was going to be plain of speech, but he worried for the wives and children, many of whose feelings are exceedingly tender and chaste (Jacob 2:7). His vernacular was pidgin, but the kid was all over this.
The word he never said was "pornography."
He proceeded to describe how his friend had shown him a video, and then he got hooked. He said he didn't know it at the time, but he was addicted. He had to watch the videos all the time, until one day his older brother blew his cover in front of the missionaries.
My favorite part of the talk is that Tracy, who delivered most of the talk with his eyes closed, opened his eyes for a few minutes to show us how he looked when he was addicted to pornography. He stooped his head and his eyes got dark and broody. He just stared. He said that he was raised to think that it was OK to do what you wanted with women (again he was a little uncouth in his language), and that his dad had this look about him all the time. He mom takes care of seven kids and pretends not to notice when her husband stays up at night looking at pictures on his cell phone.
Tracy wanted something better from his life, so he cleaned up his act. On Sunday after church, he received the Aaronic Priesthood. Next week he will pass the sacrament.
Tracy understands two wonderful things: 1. Wives and children need husbands and fathers who are pure and chaste. 2. Pornography is addictive, and harmful to self and others. Nothing about Tracy's life promotes these two truths, and yet this is what he has gleaned from six months in the restored Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His life, and the lives of his children and wife will be forever changed because he knows these things.
There is a third thing that Tracy knows, and it is this thing that I would like to testify of today: The Atonement of Jesus Christ is adequate to overcome pornography addiction. I know it because I have seen it. To any that might struggle, please consider Tracy's plain speech. If his words aren't enough, take the testimony of a living apostle:
"We (need) men that women can trust, that children can trust, and that God can trust...Prepare to be a good husband and father; prepare to be a good and productive citizen; prepare to serve the Lord, whose priesthood you hold. Wherever you are, your Heavenly Father is mindful of you. You are not alone, and you have the priesthood and the gift of the Holy Ghost...It is true that we are in many ways ordinary and imperfect, but we have a perfect Master who wrought a perfect Atonement." ~Elder Todd Christofferson***
How I love the good, and imperfect, men of the Church! Here's to virtue, to priesthood, and to the wonderful men in my life. Most of all to the Man of all Men, Jesus Christ our Redeemer.
*Name changed.
**This booklet is nothing short of life-changing! We use it in lessons as often as possible. The standards given to Mormon youth are keys to success for all people of any age! https://www.lds.org/bc/content/shared/content/english/pdf/ForTheStrengthOfYouth-eng.pdf?lang=eng
***Brethren, We Have a Work To Do (Christopherson) https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/brethren-we-have-work-to-do?lang=eng
~1 Corinthians 10:13
Tracy* is black. I say this as a hairstylist, not as a racist. He's a 16 year-old with a fabulous two-inch fro who wears neon knee-high socks. His life revolves around tennis and girls. He was baptized six months ago, and he is a leader among the youth. He is unconventional, and for that I love him.
The elders were worried on Saturday night when Tracy didn't answer his phone. He was giving his first talk in sacrament meeting, and they were supposed to help him write it. I'm so glad that they didn't.
What proceeded from Tracy's mouth on Sunday morning was a thirty-minute exposition that made a few people squirm and quite a few people giggle, but which really needed to be said. He was asked to speak about a topic from the For The Strength of Youth** pamphlet. He chose the things that were most pertinent to his teenage lifestyle: Sexual Purity and Media and Entertainment.
"I got involved in some stuff that I'm not going to say," he started. "All you ladies out there might be pure, and I don't want to talk about it."
Alright, I've read Jacob Chapter 2 a few times, and this made my ears perk up. He like Jacob, was going to be plain of speech, but he worried for the wives and children, many of whose feelings are exceedingly tender and chaste (Jacob 2:7). His vernacular was pidgin, but the kid was all over this.
The word he never said was "pornography."
He proceeded to describe how his friend had shown him a video, and then he got hooked. He said he didn't know it at the time, but he was addicted. He had to watch the videos all the time, until one day his older brother blew his cover in front of the missionaries.
My favorite part of the talk is that Tracy, who delivered most of the talk with his eyes closed, opened his eyes for a few minutes to show us how he looked when he was addicted to pornography. He stooped his head and his eyes got dark and broody. He just stared. He said that he was raised to think that it was OK to do what you wanted with women (again he was a little uncouth in his language), and that his dad had this look about him all the time. He mom takes care of seven kids and pretends not to notice when her husband stays up at night looking at pictures on his cell phone.
Tracy wanted something better from his life, so he cleaned up his act. On Sunday after church, he received the Aaronic Priesthood. Next week he will pass the sacrament.
Tracy understands two wonderful things: 1. Wives and children need husbands and fathers who are pure and chaste. 2. Pornography is addictive, and harmful to self and others. Nothing about Tracy's life promotes these two truths, and yet this is what he has gleaned from six months in the restored Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His life, and the lives of his children and wife will be forever changed because he knows these things.
There is a third thing that Tracy knows, and it is this thing that I would like to testify of today: The Atonement of Jesus Christ is adequate to overcome pornography addiction. I know it because I have seen it. To any that might struggle, please consider Tracy's plain speech. If his words aren't enough, take the testimony of a living apostle:
"We (need) men that women can trust, that children can trust, and that God can trust...Prepare to be a good husband and father; prepare to be a good and productive citizen; prepare to serve the Lord, whose priesthood you hold. Wherever you are, your Heavenly Father is mindful of you. You are not alone, and you have the priesthood and the gift of the Holy Ghost...It is true that we are in many ways ordinary and imperfect, but we have a perfect Master who wrought a perfect Atonement." ~Elder Todd Christofferson***
How I love the good, and imperfect, men of the Church! Here's to virtue, to priesthood, and to the wonderful men in my life. Most of all to the Man of all Men, Jesus Christ our Redeemer.
*Name changed.
**This booklet is nothing short of life-changing! We use it in lessons as often as possible. The standards given to Mormon youth are keys to success for all people of any age! https://www.lds.org/bc/content/shared/content/english/pdf/ForTheStrengthOfYouth-eng.pdf?lang=eng
***Brethren, We Have a Work To Do (Christopherson) https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/brethren-we-have-work-to-do?lang=eng
Friday, March 28, 2014
My Favorite Sermon
The best sermon in sacrament meeting happens on the second row.
I prefer the vantage point from the east pews, halfway back, where I can watch the dapper 2 year-old do acrobatics over the bench in his pinstriped vest. There are six children in the Gates* family, and they are as well-behaved as can be expected of any confined soul under the age of 12.
They are adorable, but the sermon exists in the person of their mother.** Her glory is summed up in one singular feature: a smile.
She smiles at the toddler as she carries him back to his seat. He drapes himself over her arm like a contented airplane, and then she smiles at her 8 year-old son when the airplane's rudder swats him in the face. She smiles at her husband on the stand, and I suspect that those smiles are what keep the over-burdened bishop going on hard days.
Her children smile, too. The happiness is contagious. It's positively inexplicable, absolutely paradoxical! It's not as though life were easy, or resources abundant, or the situation perfect. That's where the sermon is. She smiles despite it all.
Once, she was asked to play the piano in Relief Society. Judging by the performance, I'm not sure that Sister Gates has played the piano since fourth grade. But she was their only option, so she agreed. There were more missed notes than correct ones, and my outspoken German friend hissed over her shoulder to me. "G~, this is terrible!" (She is still working on eliminating her expletives.) But over the top of the piano I spied a pretty sight: smile wrinkles! She was actually humored by her own ill performance!
This is the essence of strong womanhood. Satan would rather us berate ourselves. The common woman in this situation goes red in the face, gives up, or gets upset at the thoughtless Relief Society president who wrangled her into playing in the first place. But Sister Gates just smiles ruefully.
Feeling bewildered by her joy, I asked Sister Gates how she manages to be such a happy Bishop's wife. Wives with husbands in high demand,even for altruistic purposes, tend to become bitter and burdened. She does it with such ease! What is her secret?
"You know the movie, The Incredibles?" she said. Now she's talking! Disney-Pixar is a language that I speak fluently.
"Well, we quote that to each other. In the movie, the wife shouts at the husband, "It's not about you!!" And it's true, Sister Stewart. It really isn't about us. It's about what the Lord wants. And if He wants Chris* to be the Bishop, then Christ will be the Bishop. It's not about me or about Him. It's all about the Lord."
And then she smiles through it for five years.
This is faith, dear friends. A smile.
*You know the drill. Pseudonyms to preserve their superheroic identities.
**She is merely one of a million women just like her. I won't be writing on this blog for Mother's day this May; I'll be home with my own angel mother. So take this as my Mother's Day entry. Three cheers for the women who raised us!!
I prefer the vantage point from the east pews, halfway back, where I can watch the dapper 2 year-old do acrobatics over the bench in his pinstriped vest. There are six children in the Gates* family, and they are as well-behaved as can be expected of any confined soul under the age of 12.
They are adorable, but the sermon exists in the person of their mother.** Her glory is summed up in one singular feature: a smile.
She smiles at the toddler as she carries him back to his seat. He drapes himself over her arm like a contented airplane, and then she smiles at her 8 year-old son when the airplane's rudder swats him in the face. She smiles at her husband on the stand, and I suspect that those smiles are what keep the over-burdened bishop going on hard days.
Her children smile, too. The happiness is contagious. It's positively inexplicable, absolutely paradoxical! It's not as though life were easy, or resources abundant, or the situation perfect. That's where the sermon is. She smiles despite it all.
Once, she was asked to play the piano in Relief Society. Judging by the performance, I'm not sure that Sister Gates has played the piano since fourth grade. But she was their only option, so she agreed. There were more missed notes than correct ones, and my outspoken German friend hissed over her shoulder to me. "G~, this is terrible!" (She is still working on eliminating her expletives.) But over the top of the piano I spied a pretty sight: smile wrinkles! She was actually humored by her own ill performance!
This is the essence of strong womanhood. Satan would rather us berate ourselves. The common woman in this situation goes red in the face, gives up, or gets upset at the thoughtless Relief Society president who wrangled her into playing in the first place. But Sister Gates just smiles ruefully.
Feeling bewildered by her joy, I asked Sister Gates how she manages to be such a happy Bishop's wife. Wives with husbands in high demand,even for altruistic purposes, tend to become bitter and burdened. She does it with such ease! What is her secret?
"You know the movie, The Incredibles?" she said. Now she's talking! Disney-Pixar is a language that I speak fluently.
"Well, we quote that to each other. In the movie, the wife shouts at the husband, "It's not about you!!" And it's true, Sister Stewart. It really isn't about us. It's about what the Lord wants. And if He wants Chris* to be the Bishop, then Christ will be the Bishop. It's not about me or about Him. It's all about the Lord."
And then she smiles through it for five years.
This is faith, dear friends. A smile.
It is easy enough to be pleasant,
When life flows by like a song,
But the man worthwhile is one who will smile,
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with the years,
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth
Is the smile that shines through tears.
~Hazel Felleman
(a favorite poem oft-quoted by our beloved prophets:
President Thomas S. Monson and President Gordon B. Hinckley.)
**She is merely one of a million women just like her. I won't be writing on this blog for Mother's day this May; I'll be home with my own angel mother. So take this as my Mother's Day entry. Three cheers for the women who raised us!!
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Adopted In
With a title like this, you might expect an exposition on the Abrahamic Covenant. Perhaps I will disclose deep doctrinal secrets about bloodlines and the manner in which Gentiles receive the lineal rights of Abraham. All of my anthropological knowledge will be presented in a calculated lecture on gospel adoption.
No sir! Today I must tell you about a glorious affair, punctuated by a joking comment from our bishop. He called us after a 2 1/2 hour visit with Ann and Tom Wilkes*, our library security guard member and his darling Pentecostal wife.
"You'll need to set up an interview because she's getting baptized tomorrow," he said. Obviously a joke, but a hopeful missionary heart can't be sure.
"Wait, you're kidding, aren't you Bishop?"
He laughed and said yes. "But they sure love you two. I think they're halfway through the adoption paperwork already."
Well, I have a loving set of parents at home that I will be glad to return to in May. But dear Ann and Tom Wilkes, I will gladly claim you as my Oklahoma grandparents!!
I am positively jubilant! Our Mission President's wife visited Ann with us on Wednesday. We read the Book of Mormon and she responded to the questions in a most genial manner.
Then on Friday, Hermana Dupape's mom sent a surprise for Ann - her very own quad! She has been wanting her own set of Mormon scriptures, and soon Tom will have a set as well. The gift was given anonymously, so the entire ward is now suspect as benefactor and friend in Ann's mind.
But best of all was Sunday morning. After sacrament meeting, we found Ann in the women's restroom. As I washed my hands, she casually mentioned that God was answering her prayers. "I told Him that I needed an answer," she said. I stopped messing with the paper towels and listened. She explained that she had woken up at 5 am. She turned to her scriptures for guidance, and where did God take her?
Ephesians 4:11.
She opened up her quad to read it to us, but there were already tears in Sister Dupape's eyes, and I was grinning like an idiot. Every missionary know what Ephesians 4:11 says - PROPHETS!!!
God is beginning to teach Ann Wilkes that the Church of Jesus Christ has been restored to the earth. We have prophets on the earth today. It is the greatest age since the beginning of time, and she can be part of it.
Ah. There aren't words enough to capture the feelings of my heart. I have the greatest thing in the world, and I get to share it with the greatest people in the world. God loves Ann and Tom Wilkes, and He shares them with me!!
*Names changed. But I get the idea that they'll be part of my life forever, so you might just discover their true identities someday.
No sir! Today I must tell you about a glorious affair, punctuated by a joking comment from our bishop. He called us after a 2 1/2 hour visit with Ann and Tom Wilkes*, our library security guard member and his darling Pentecostal wife.
"You'll need to set up an interview because she's getting baptized tomorrow," he said. Obviously a joke, but a hopeful missionary heart can't be sure.
"Wait, you're kidding, aren't you Bishop?"
He laughed and said yes. "But they sure love you two. I think they're halfway through the adoption paperwork already."
Well, I have a loving set of parents at home that I will be glad to return to in May. But dear Ann and Tom Wilkes, I will gladly claim you as my Oklahoma grandparents!!
I am positively jubilant! Our Mission President's wife visited Ann with us on Wednesday. We read the Book of Mormon and she responded to the questions in a most genial manner.
Then on Friday, Hermana Dupape's mom sent a surprise for Ann - her very own quad! She has been wanting her own set of Mormon scriptures, and soon Tom will have a set as well. The gift was given anonymously, so the entire ward is now suspect as benefactor and friend in Ann's mind.
But best of all was Sunday morning. After sacrament meeting, we found Ann in the women's restroom. As I washed my hands, she casually mentioned that God was answering her prayers. "I told Him that I needed an answer," she said. I stopped messing with the paper towels and listened. She explained that she had woken up at 5 am. She turned to her scriptures for guidance, and where did God take her?
Ephesians 4:11.
She opened up her quad to read it to us, but there were already tears in Sister Dupape's eyes, and I was grinning like an idiot. Every missionary know what Ephesians 4:11 says - PROPHETS!!!
God is beginning to teach Ann Wilkes that the Church of Jesus Christ has been restored to the earth. We have prophets on the earth today. It is the greatest age since the beginning of time, and she can be part of it.
Ah. There aren't words enough to capture the feelings of my heart. I have the greatest thing in the world, and I get to share it with the greatest people in the world. God loves Ann and Tom Wilkes, and He shares them with me!!
*Names changed. But I get the idea that they'll be part of my life forever, so you might just discover their true identities someday.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Marginal Miracles
These are side effects of diligence: unintended, unexpected, but highly manifest of God's thoughtful nature.
*A young woman comes out teaching with us once or twice a week. She is not an investigator, but we are seeing true repentance as a result of her missionary service! We let her borrow an EFY CD, and she told us that she is beginning to change her music from dark tones to things that help her feel the Spirit. We gave her a Book of Mormon upon parting, and she has already given one away and has plans for two others. She invited her friend to church this week! Many of our less-actives have been impressed by her bold testimony.
*We had 30 minutes in between appointments, so we went to a pre-designated apartment complex, said a prayer, and found miracles! We knocked on four doors and got two return appointments. We taught one of them with a member that same day. He warned us that he is "not a promising prospect," but he also says that he'll read and pray about the Book of Mormon...ha! Famous last words. We have an appointment with his neighbor tomorrow.
*I went on exchanges with Sister N. I have been her STL for her entire mission (9 months) and I think it is because we both struggle with anxiety/perfectionism. She expressed her concerns, and I felt inspired to ask her to role-play being an STL. I didn't know what to do for her, but I sensed that she might know how to nourish herself. I played the part of another sister in our mission who is struggling with similar issues, and Sister N counseled me beautifully and profoundly. She doesn't love her mission, and she feels guilty for that. We set goals for cultivating gratitude.
*Our investigator stopped reading the Book of Mormon, so we felt inspired to ask her to read a chapter a day and then text us her response to it. It's been wonderful! She texts us daily, and I am learning new things from the book of First Nephi as a result of her insights!
*Bishop G invited two of our less-actives and an investigator to his home for FHE last night. The example of righteous families is the most convincing evidence of all! We love tapping into the power of our members.
*A young woman comes out teaching with us once or twice a week. She is not an investigator, but we are seeing true repentance as a result of her missionary service! We let her borrow an EFY CD, and she told us that she is beginning to change her music from dark tones to things that help her feel the Spirit. We gave her a Book of Mormon upon parting, and she has already given one away and has plans for two others. She invited her friend to church this week! Many of our less-actives have been impressed by her bold testimony.
*We had 30 minutes in between appointments, so we went to a pre-designated apartment complex, said a prayer, and found miracles! We knocked on four doors and got two return appointments. We taught one of them with a member that same day. He warned us that he is "not a promising prospect," but he also says that he'll read and pray about the Book of Mormon...ha! Famous last words. We have an appointment with his neighbor tomorrow.
*I went on exchanges with Sister N. I have been her STL for her entire mission (9 months) and I think it is because we both struggle with anxiety/perfectionism. She expressed her concerns, and I felt inspired to ask her to role-play being an STL. I didn't know what to do for her, but I sensed that she might know how to nourish herself. I played the part of another sister in our mission who is struggling with similar issues, and Sister N counseled me beautifully and profoundly. She doesn't love her mission, and she feels guilty for that. We set goals for cultivating gratitude.
*Our investigator stopped reading the Book of Mormon, so we felt inspired to ask her to read a chapter a day and then text us her response to it. It's been wonderful! She texts us daily, and I am learning new things from the book of First Nephi as a result of her insights!
*Bishop G invited two of our less-actives and an investigator to his home for FHE last night. The example of righteous families is the most convincing evidence of all! We love tapping into the power of our members.
Musicals
"Persistence is the answer, and a sense of humor helps." ~Elder Quentin L. Cook
This is a copy-paste from the letter that I sent to my little brother this morning. I'm running short on e-mail time, and I am racking my mind for something profound to say. I'm coming up empty.
So here you go. Missionary work is generally quite sober, but sometimes God reminds us that we are just human.
Here's to humanity, and may you have a jolly day!
Dear Joe,
We ate dinner with a family on Monday, and they were a riot. Brother Peters* said, "Honey, wouldn't you like to tell the missionaries about your musical talents?" She hissed, "No, I would not."
He wouldn't drop it, and we innocently insisted that we would like to hear them for ourselves.
Finally, she broke down, "Fine! So we went to the temple on Saturday, and I ate right before we went through for sealings. And then when we knelt over the alter, my stomach was a little musical."
Her husband roared with laughter. "A little musical?! Her butt-cheeks were flapping!"
Bahahaha, farting in the temple.
This is so irreverent. And I thought you might love it.
Much love,
Sister Stewart :)
*The name is most definitely changed. His good wife might strangle him if we revealed her true identity.
This is a copy-paste from the letter that I sent to my little brother this morning. I'm running short on e-mail time, and I am racking my mind for something profound to say. I'm coming up empty.
So here you go. Missionary work is generally quite sober, but sometimes God reminds us that we are just human.
Here's to humanity, and may you have a jolly day!
Dear Joe,
We ate dinner with a family on Monday, and they were a riot. Brother Peters* said, "Honey, wouldn't you like to tell the missionaries about your musical talents?" She hissed, "No, I would not."
He wouldn't drop it, and we innocently insisted that we would like to hear them for ourselves.
Finally, she broke down, "Fine! So we went to the temple on Saturday, and I ate right before we went through for sealings. And then when we knelt over the alter, my stomach was a little musical."
Her husband roared with laughter. "A little musical?! Her butt-cheeks were flapping!"
Bahahaha, farting in the temple.
This is so irreverent. And I thought you might love it.
Much love,
Sister Stewart :)
*The name is most definitely changed. His good wife might strangle him if we revealed her true identity.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Snow Days
Snow days - as magical to missionaries as they are to children.
When the temperature drops to -6* with wind chill, our day is entirely subject to the providence of God. He treated us most favorably this Sabbath.
We were unsuccessfully attempting to chip ice from our windshield at 7am when the ward mission leader texted that all church meetings were canceled for the day. We slipped back inside (and I mean it when I say slipped - Oklahoma makes good with its freezing rain) and then curled up in blankets for our usual morning studies. By 10 am the zone leaders were texting that cars were grounded. Living out of our area, we had no choice but to spend the day indoors. Call me lazy, but this was a rare treat. God forced my hand; I simply had to take a break and enjoy myself!
Rice bags* and squishy, underappreciated** sofas were our constant companions on this true day of rest. What can missionaries do all day in their apartment? Discuss at length their future member missionary dreams. Pre-missionaries dream of serving a mission, but missionaries dream of serving as involved ward member-missionaries. They might also watch Legacy on their portable DVD player. Did you know that this innocent pioneer movie shows kissing four times!? The most scandalizing thing I've seen in 14 months! They might even crochet ties for the elders and listen to talks by General Authorities.
According to the goodness of our members, we were the recipients of fresh, plate-sized indun tacos***. And to crown the evening, our favorite investigators braved the storm to pick us up for a second dinner and a lesson in their home. Committed investigators and good friends? Methinks so.
So, there. I'll let you be the judge. Best day ever, or best day ever?
I love being a missionary!
* the frugal missionary version of heating pads...hand-sewn innovations that cost only $2 to make!
** underappreciated? Why, you insensitive missionary, neglecting your sofas like that! No, not really. Have you seen the rigorous schedule of a missionary? These marvelous couches aren't open for use except at meal times and after we return home. Needless to say, it was some much-needed quality time with my upholstered friends.
***Not Navajo, that's tribal. Not even Indian, that's turrible pronunciation. We're Oklahoman, folks.Them be INDUN tacos.
When the temperature drops to -6* with wind chill, our day is entirely subject to the providence of God. He treated us most favorably this Sabbath.
We were unsuccessfully attempting to chip ice from our windshield at 7am when the ward mission leader texted that all church meetings were canceled for the day. We slipped back inside (and I mean it when I say slipped - Oklahoma makes good with its freezing rain) and then curled up in blankets for our usual morning studies. By 10 am the zone leaders were texting that cars were grounded. Living out of our area, we had no choice but to spend the day indoors. Call me lazy, but this was a rare treat. God forced my hand; I simply had to take a break and enjoy myself!
Rice bags* and squishy, underappreciated** sofas were our constant companions on this true day of rest. What can missionaries do all day in their apartment? Discuss at length their future member missionary dreams. Pre-missionaries dream of serving a mission, but missionaries dream of serving as involved ward member-missionaries. They might also watch Legacy on their portable DVD player. Did you know that this innocent pioneer movie shows kissing four times!? The most scandalizing thing I've seen in 14 months! They might even crochet ties for the elders and listen to talks by General Authorities.
According to the goodness of our members, we were the recipients of fresh, plate-sized indun tacos***. And to crown the evening, our favorite investigators braved the storm to pick us up for a second dinner and a lesson in their home. Committed investigators and good friends? Methinks so.
So, there. I'll let you be the judge. Best day ever, or best day ever?
I love being a missionary!
* the frugal missionary version of heating pads...hand-sewn innovations that cost only $2 to make!
** underappreciated? Why, you insensitive missionary, neglecting your sofas like that! No, not really. Have you seen the rigorous schedule of a missionary? These marvelous couches aren't open for use except at meal times and after we return home. Needless to say, it was some much-needed quality time with my upholstered friends.
***Not Navajo, that's tribal. Not even Indian, that's turrible pronunciation. We're Oklahoman, folks.Them be INDUN tacos.
What do missionaries do with beer?
 |
That's right! We pour it down the sink! Got to do this twice this week.
|
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Amateur Heroism
Sarrah Turner tells me that only nerds read the Bible Dictionary. So I'm a nerd. So was Peter Parker. Nerds have a well-established reputation for greatness.
Now that my social status has been established, you can trust me as a legitimate lover of scriptures! The Bible Dictionary states that miracles are based upon three prerequisites:
1. Prayer
2. Felt Need
3. Faith
Prayer is easy. We pray when we leave the apartment, when we leave the car, at meals, during planning, after planning, before miracles, after miracles, before bed, and when we wake up in the morning.
Felt need is also easy. I'm surrounded by needy people all day long. They're tired, they're crabby, they're discouraged, they're deceived. They're hungry and impatient and hurt. In every instance, they are in need. They need saving from provincial cares and mortal burdens.
Superpower
Faith takes a little more trust, but it is the magical component that hastens the miracles. There is a phrase used in academics. They say that "What is perceived to be real is real in its effect." It is the self-fulfilling prophecy, the potent power of symbolic interaction-ism. Perception (ie: faith) is everything. No longer left to Cindy Lou-Who and other holiday-loving folk, I suspect that faith is the fire that drew Abraham Lincoln through the Civil War. It is the key to greatness and accomplishment.
This is no less impressive than the stuff of comic strips and action films. We have a fearsome enemy, a valiant captain, and a divine sense of identity in our miracle-making endeavors.
I feel like Spiderman mastering my webs. Or Batman putting the finishing touches on his mobile. There is a power in faith unlike anything that I have ever imagined. It's super-human in quality, something that only Marvel films and comic strips acknowledge. The soul that longs to minister will be made heroic through faith in Jesus Christ.
The True Hero
Jesus Christ is the true Hero, the original Hercules. Half-deity, He came. Human so that He could empathize, Godly so He could save, motivated only by the people He was sent to rescue.
He read an Isaiac verse and then brought it to life in His own good life:
"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because he hath anointed me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind..." (Luke 4:18)
Do you sense the heroism? There were no capes or crowds, and his side-kicks were simple fishermen, but in Him we have the archetypal Hero, the only true Savior of mankind.
"...to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness..." (Isaiah 61:1-3)
To the Rescue!
When we claim discipleship, His quest becomes our own. We engage in amateur heroism! We must heal the broken-hearted and give joy where there is mourning, praise where there is heaviness. When we exercise faith in someone else's behalf, we see miracles.
So don your spiritual cape, make you a mask, and join me in the ministry! With faith as our power and Jesus Christ as our example, we can rescue distressed damsels and would-be villains.
Where there is felt need, we add our faith and prayer. And the Bible Dictionary assures us that this recipe, properly cooked, yields miracles. This my friend, is amateur heroics.
Now that my social status has been established, you can trust me as a legitimate lover of scriptures! The Bible Dictionary states that miracles are based upon three prerequisites:
1. Prayer
2. Felt Need
3. Faith
Prayer is easy. We pray when we leave the apartment, when we leave the car, at meals, during planning, after planning, before miracles, after miracles, before bed, and when we wake up in the morning.
Felt need is also easy. I'm surrounded by needy people all day long. They're tired, they're crabby, they're discouraged, they're deceived. They're hungry and impatient and hurt. In every instance, they are in need. They need saving from provincial cares and mortal burdens.
Superpower
Faith takes a little more trust, but it is the magical component that hastens the miracles. There is a phrase used in academics. They say that "What is perceived to be real is real in its effect." It is the self-fulfilling prophecy, the potent power of symbolic interaction-ism. Perception (ie: faith) is everything. No longer left to Cindy Lou-Who and other holiday-loving folk, I suspect that faith is the fire that drew Abraham Lincoln through the Civil War. It is the key to greatness and accomplishment.
This is no less impressive than the stuff of comic strips and action films. We have a fearsome enemy, a valiant captain, and a divine sense of identity in our miracle-making endeavors.
I feel like Spiderman mastering my webs. Or Batman putting the finishing touches on his mobile. There is a power in faith unlike anything that I have ever imagined. It's super-human in quality, something that only Marvel films and comic strips acknowledge. The soul that longs to minister will be made heroic through faith in Jesus Christ.
The True Hero
Jesus Christ is the true Hero, the original Hercules. Half-deity, He came. Human so that He could empathize, Godly so He could save, motivated only by the people He was sent to rescue.
He read an Isaiac verse and then brought it to life in His own good life:
"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because he hath anointed me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind..." (Luke 4:18)
Do you sense the heroism? There were no capes or crowds, and his side-kicks were simple fishermen, but in Him we have the archetypal Hero, the only true Savior of mankind.
"...to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness..." (Isaiah 61:1-3)
To the Rescue!
When we claim discipleship, His quest becomes our own. We engage in amateur heroism! We must heal the broken-hearted and give joy where there is mourning, praise where there is heaviness. When we exercise faith in someone else's behalf, we see miracles.
So don your spiritual cape, make you a mask, and join me in the ministry! With faith as our power and Jesus Christ as our example, we can rescue distressed damsels and would-be villains.
Where there is felt need, we add our faith and prayer. And the Bible Dictionary assures us that this recipe, properly cooked, yields miracles. This my friend, is amateur heroics.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Apron Strings Ministry
My father assures me that the way to a man's heart is through the stomach.
I can't verify this (my platonic lifestyle doesn't currently provide opportunities to experiment with the theory), but I am learning a closely related truth: the way to anyone's heart is through the stomach! Food is one of the most convincing evidences of God's love, and a critical element of successful missionary work.
President Monson recently related a story** of a woman who received homemade bread in answer to a personal prayer. We saw this very story play out in OKC 2nd ward this week, but with banana pudding! Sister Bartly* a recently reactivated Native American woman (and one of our finest meal advocates), came down with a nasty stomach bug. She texted us and said that "nanner puddin" was the only thing that sounded palatable. It was Sunday and we were pinched for time, but something in our sisterly hearts longed to give her what she desired. She feeds us every week, and we dearly wanted to return the favor.
The light bulb clicked on instantly. Sister Martel*, our widow neighbor, had been talking about making banana pudding for us for days! Coincidence? We thought not. So we called Sister Martel and she was delighted to be the answer to someone's prayer. Within 30 minutes we were delivering a "nanner puddin" miracle to Sister Bartly. From one sister to another, just the way her mama made it. "God does notice us, and He watches over us. But it is usually through another person that He meets our needs." (President Spencer W. Kimball)
In a second instance of culinary compassion, a gift of food gave legitimacy to our message of Heavenly manna.
On Saturday we taught one of the most convincing lessons on the Atonement that I have ever witnessed. What made the difference between this lesson and every other lesson about the Savior's love? With 14 months of practice, you'd think it would be words or content or inspired questions. Nope. It wasn't me or my companion at all. It was a simple meal, delivered by the Relief Society, to our investigator's ailing sister.
Over and over Carilynn* exclaimed about the simple act of compassion. It was "so unexpected, so unasked for, so unprecedented!" What better to teach about the unexpected, unasked for, unprecedented love of Jesus Christ? Dinner was the essential prerequisite for our investigator to trust in the grace of Jesus Christ.
When Jesus admonished his disciples to feed his sheep (John 21:16), and to care for the hungry (Matt 25:37; Mosiah 4:26), he meant it spiritually. But over and over I have seen this spiritual feeding take powerful physical form.
It is my favorite missionary tool and one that is easily accessible for each of us. What can be done for our non-progressing investigators? Cinnamon rolls. And for the inactive young woman? Frozen yogurt. For the overworked bishop? A casserole. Unexpected, unasked for, unprecedented.
I am a missionary, and it is in my blood to invite you, my darling reading audience, to ACT on my message. I promise that you will learn the truth of this message for yourself through prayer and experience! So here is my 3-step challenge:
1. Bake a plate of cookies. If you're classier than cookies, go for a full meal. If cooking isn't your style, then buy two Crunchwrap Supremes instead of one next time you grace the Taco Bell drive-through.
2. Pray. Ask which little sheep God wants you to feed. The name will probably come easily, because you have been thinking about them or wondering about them already. It's the new move-in or that primary kid who never comes to church. It might even be someone you've never met before. Whoever comes to mind, go with it.
3. Deliver & minister. Don't do a drive-by. Don't write a note. Deliver it in person, or have them over for dinner. Buy them lunch. Whatever you do, feed the whole soul, not just the stomach, for this is the Lord's chosen way.
4. Bonus points if you write to me and tell me how it went!! Follow-up is my favorite, and the letters are a little slow these days:
Sister Jennifer Stewart
Oklahoma OKC Mission
416 SW 79th St Ste 210
Oklahoma City, OK 73139
* Names changed
**http://www.lds.org/prophets-and-apostles/unto-all-the-world/we-never-walk-alone?lang=eng
I can't verify this (my platonic lifestyle doesn't currently provide opportunities to experiment with the theory), but I am learning a closely related truth: the way to anyone's heart is through the stomach! Food is one of the most convincing evidences of God's love, and a critical element of successful missionary work.
President Monson recently related a story** of a woman who received homemade bread in answer to a personal prayer. We saw this very story play out in OKC 2nd ward this week, but with banana pudding! Sister Bartly* a recently reactivated Native American woman (and one of our finest meal advocates), came down with a nasty stomach bug. She texted us and said that "nanner puddin" was the only thing that sounded palatable. It was Sunday and we were pinched for time, but something in our sisterly hearts longed to give her what she desired. She feeds us every week, and we dearly wanted to return the favor.
The light bulb clicked on instantly. Sister Martel*, our widow neighbor, had been talking about making banana pudding for us for days! Coincidence? We thought not. So we called Sister Martel and she was delighted to be the answer to someone's prayer. Within 30 minutes we were delivering a "nanner puddin" miracle to Sister Bartly. From one sister to another, just the way her mama made it. "God does notice us, and He watches over us. But it is usually through another person that He meets our needs." (President Spencer W. Kimball)
In a second instance of culinary compassion, a gift of food gave legitimacy to our message of Heavenly manna.
On Saturday we taught one of the most convincing lessons on the Atonement that I have ever witnessed. What made the difference between this lesson and every other lesson about the Savior's love? With 14 months of practice, you'd think it would be words or content or inspired questions. Nope. It wasn't me or my companion at all. It was a simple meal, delivered by the Relief Society, to our investigator's ailing sister.
Over and over Carilynn* exclaimed about the simple act of compassion. It was "so unexpected, so unasked for, so unprecedented!" What better to teach about the unexpected, unasked for, unprecedented love of Jesus Christ? Dinner was the essential prerequisite for our investigator to trust in the grace of Jesus Christ.
When Jesus admonished his disciples to feed his sheep (John 21:16), and to care for the hungry (Matt 25:37; Mosiah 4:26), he meant it spiritually. But over and over I have seen this spiritual feeding take powerful physical form.
It is my favorite missionary tool and one that is easily accessible for each of us. What can be done for our non-progressing investigators? Cinnamon rolls. And for the inactive young woman? Frozen yogurt. For the overworked bishop? A casserole. Unexpected, unasked for, unprecedented.
I am a missionary, and it is in my blood to invite you, my darling reading audience, to ACT on my message. I promise that you will learn the truth of this message for yourself through prayer and experience! So here is my 3-step challenge:
1. Bake a plate of cookies. If you're classier than cookies, go for a full meal. If cooking isn't your style, then buy two Crunchwrap Supremes instead of one next time you grace the Taco Bell drive-through.
2. Pray. Ask which little sheep God wants you to feed. The name will probably come easily, because you have been thinking about them or wondering about them already. It's the new move-in or that primary kid who never comes to church. It might even be someone you've never met before. Whoever comes to mind, go with it.
3. Deliver & minister. Don't do a drive-by. Don't write a note. Deliver it in person, or have them over for dinner. Buy them lunch. Whatever you do, feed the whole soul, not just the stomach, for this is the Lord's chosen way.
4. Bonus points if you write to me and tell me how it went!! Follow-up is my favorite, and the letters are a little slow these days:
Sister Jennifer Stewart
Oklahoma OKC Mission
416 SW 79th St Ste 210
Oklahoma City, OK 73139
* Names changed
**http://www.lds.org/prophets-and-apostles/unto-all-the-world/we-never-walk-alone?lang=eng
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Milagros
I am so happy.
On February 12th of last year, my trainer called President Taylor to counsel with him because I wanted to go home. I was sure that I couldn't do this anymore.
I never want to go to that dark place again, so I have been praying since August for divine aid to take me through February 2014. These three gifts stand out to me as merciful details that only a perfect Father could orchestrate in my behalf:
1. No transfers! I am still here in my quaint little organized apartment with my own bathroom. These details matter. They make a Jenny sane. I know the area, and I love the ward. I know my social and spiritual resources, and I know my limits. I am comfortable settled into a pleasing daily ritual. I know who I am, and I know what to expect.
2. Hermana Dupape. She is 20 years old, from Seattle, Washington. She wears a masked Batman onesie to bed and cooks Mexican food for lunch. (I should mention here that she is caucasian, but deeply enamored with all things Hispanic.) She misses the Spanish branch, so she coaches me through a chapter of the Book of Mormon in Spanish every day. And most of all, she believes in miracles. Her faith in Jesus Christ and in the converting power of the gospel is without limit.
3. The temple. How ironic that my second temple trip of the mission is on February 12th, the one-year anniversary of my lowest point of the mission. Big alligator tears slipped out of my eyes when I recognized that God was arranging for me to be a guest in His home on the very day that I worried about the most. I told myself that I could count myself victorious if I made it to February 12th.
So even though it's cloudy and the temperatures are in the teens, I am happy. I hesitate to quote the hymn, but there's simply no better way to say it: there is sunshine in my soul today!
Oh, and our library security guard? He came to church with his wife yesterday. They stayed all three hours. and tonight they are feeding us and the elders. And then we will teach them a Plan of Salvation that will change their lives.
Genta*? She also came to church. I hadn't even mentioned her in letters because I thought she'd never come. Betsy Crockett*, our weekly less-active visitee of the last six months? She was there too. These are the miracles of February.
God loves us. I learned a word in Spanish that I think we all need to apply this week:
Milagros.
Miracles!
As you look for work and serve in your callings, please know that I believes in miracles. Milagros. It is simply a divine display of Fatherly affection.
*Changed names. Hermana Dupape needs no pseudonym. If she discovers this blog entry someday, she can know how much I love her.
On February 12th of last year, my trainer called President Taylor to counsel with him because I wanted to go home. I was sure that I couldn't do this anymore.
I never want to go to that dark place again, so I have been praying since August for divine aid to take me through February 2014. These three gifts stand out to me as merciful details that only a perfect Father could orchestrate in my behalf:
1. No transfers! I am still here in my quaint little organized apartment with my own bathroom. These details matter. They make a Jenny sane. I know the area, and I love the ward. I know my social and spiritual resources, and I know my limits. I am comfortable settled into a pleasing daily ritual. I know who I am, and I know what to expect.
2. Hermana Dupape. She is 20 years old, from Seattle, Washington. She wears a masked Batman onesie to bed and cooks Mexican food for lunch. (I should mention here that she is caucasian, but deeply enamored with all things Hispanic.) She misses the Spanish branch, so she coaches me through a chapter of the Book of Mormon in Spanish every day. And most of all, she believes in miracles. Her faith in Jesus Christ and in the converting power of the gospel is without limit.
3. The temple. How ironic that my second temple trip of the mission is on February 12th, the one-year anniversary of my lowest point of the mission. Big alligator tears slipped out of my eyes when I recognized that God was arranging for me to be a guest in His home on the very day that I worried about the most. I told myself that I could count myself victorious if I made it to February 12th.
So even though it's cloudy and the temperatures are in the teens, I am happy. I hesitate to quote the hymn, but there's simply no better way to say it: there is sunshine in my soul today!
Oh, and our library security guard? He came to church with his wife yesterday. They stayed all three hours. and tonight they are feeding us and the elders. And then we will teach them a Plan of Salvation that will change their lives.
Genta*? She also came to church. I hadn't even mentioned her in letters because I thought she'd never come. Betsy Crockett*, our weekly less-active visitee of the last six months? She was there too. These are the miracles of February.
God loves us. I learned a word in Spanish that I think we all need to apply this week:
Milagros.
Miracles!
As you look for work and serve in your callings, please know that I believes in miracles. Milagros. It is simply a divine display of Fatherly affection.
*Changed names. Hermana Dupape needs no pseudonym. If she discovers this blog entry someday, she can know how much I love her.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Library Rules
We must remember that those mortals we meet in parking lots, offices, elevators, and elsewhere are that portion of mankind God has given us to love and to serve. ~President Spencer W. Kimball
The elders warned us that we are never allowed to proselyte to the library staff. Previous missionaries have been kicked out for such conduct. But still, we see them every P-day, and they're always so nice. What's a girl to do?
He started it. He introduced himself as Tom*, so we told him who we were. And he's a real chatty-kathy, so we just listened. Eventually he worked the conversation towards spirituality (it's not hard to do when we're wearing name tags that proclaim Jesus Christ), and it all went smoothly from there.
Would you believe it? The library security guard is Mormon! He was baptized on Temple Square over 20 years ago, and he says that he still believes it even though he's not active. Missionaries might have known it sooner, were it not for the library rules.
Something possessed me. I blame it on hunger. Sister Ellis says I had my sassy pants on. Whatever the case, I boldly invited Tom to church. That failed, so I asked when we could expect an invitation to dinner. BINGO! It is contrary to everything my mother ever taught me to invite myself to dinner, but it is a delightfully fruitful deviant behavior.
Tom and his dear wife Ann* hosted the three of us to a lovely Sunday dinner last night. The table was set with their Christmas dinnerware, and they encouraged us to eat first, second, and third helpings. We ate for an hour, and then they kept us for two hours more. We taught Ann the message of the Restoration, and then they drilled us with questions.
Polygamy, sacred garments, and temple worthiness have never been discussed in more genial tones! Characteristically abrasive questions were benign. Sister Ellis responded to a query about "holy underwear" by declaring, "Are you kidding me? These things are brand new! I don't have holes in my underwear!"
I love Tom and Ann. We have a return appointment for next Monday.
All because someone broke the library rules.
* Will the dear gentleman ever read this? Most likely not. But out of courtesy, I've given him a nice generic alias. And another for his lovely wife.
The elders warned us that we are never allowed to proselyte to the library staff. Previous missionaries have been kicked out for such conduct. But still, we see them every P-day, and they're always so nice. What's a girl to do?
He started it. He introduced himself as Tom*, so we told him who we were. And he's a real chatty-kathy, so we just listened. Eventually he worked the conversation towards spirituality (it's not hard to do when we're wearing name tags that proclaim Jesus Christ), and it all went smoothly from there.
Would you believe it? The library security guard is Mormon! He was baptized on Temple Square over 20 years ago, and he says that he still believes it even though he's not active. Missionaries might have known it sooner, were it not for the library rules.
Something possessed me. I blame it on hunger. Sister Ellis says I had my sassy pants on. Whatever the case, I boldly invited Tom to church. That failed, so I asked when we could expect an invitation to dinner. BINGO! It is contrary to everything my mother ever taught me to invite myself to dinner, but it is a delightfully fruitful deviant behavior.
Tom and his dear wife Ann* hosted the three of us to a lovely Sunday dinner last night. The table was set with their Christmas dinnerware, and they encouraged us to eat first, second, and third helpings. We ate for an hour, and then they kept us for two hours more. We taught Ann the message of the Restoration, and then they drilled us with questions.
Polygamy, sacred garments, and temple worthiness have never been discussed in more genial tones! Characteristically abrasive questions were benign. Sister Ellis responded to a query about "holy underwear" by declaring, "Are you kidding me? These things are brand new! I don't have holes in my underwear!"
I love Tom and Ann. We have a return appointment for next Monday.
All because someone broke the library rules.
* Will the dear gentleman ever read this? Most likely not. But out of courtesy, I've given him a nice generic alias. And another for his lovely wife.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Eggs on the Skillet
"God makes glorious our failed good intentions." ~journal entry, March 10, 2013
The lady struck a mirthful chord in us, which we could not forget.
The door was a dark red, sort of scuffed up around the edges. This is an important detail to no one, but it should be mentioned because missionaries are connoisseurs of doors. We look at them all day long, hoping that someone will answer our knock and relieve us of observing doors and wreaths and entryways so we can move on to loftier purposes of praying and teaching.
When the red door opened, we were greeted by an air of energy. a short, skinny, old woman stood before us, but "old" is the wrong descriptor. I'm sure she's at least 65, but her blond bouncy curls and middle-school outfit make age a confusing barometer. She sported a Catching Fire t-shirt tucked into skinny jeans, crowned with a sparkly turquoise belt. Her dentures provided a bright-white smile, and she looked at us so expectantly, I was sure she'd let us in.
We were halfway through our introductions when she interrupted us. "That's so nice. But I've got eggs on the skillet." But then she looked at us expectantly again, so we haltingly offered her a card. Once again, appreciation flowed forth followed by a description of her eggs on the skillet. The spatula in her right hand gave evidence of her task, so we let her go with a promise to return.
We shook our heads and laughed as we went back to the car. I wrote her address in my planner on a whim, and we quickly adopted "eggs on a skillet" as a versatile punch-line. How do we excuse our less-active friend when he doesn't answer the door for our visit? It's OK; he's definitely got eggs on his skillet. Mindy can't come to the appointment that we've had set for the last three weeks? No problem; she probably has eggs on the skillet! So the elders are grouchy; it's OK, they've got eggs on the skillet!!
Despite our love for the woman (and her eggs), she was never home when we dropped by to visit.
Enter God into the messy equation.
Five days after our initial encounter, in a neighborhood four streets away, we sat at the bedside of a woman bemoaning her husband's death. Imagine our surprise when the doorbell rang and the woman behind the screen (this time a white door with windows) was none other than Eggs on the Skillet! Corinne Umphrey** introduced herself, and her outfit was just as animated as the first time: red bowling shoes, red striped gauchos, and a red plaid button-up shirt. She was there with a bouquet of plastic flowers for our mourning friend.
And I loved her even more when she stooped down to pick up the bits of dog-bitten diaper that littered the floor. I had looked at them with distaste, but it hadn't even occurred to me to clean them up. She pulled out her plastic flowers and arranged them in a dollar-store vase, and we made an official introduction.
This week we will ask our member friend to introduce us to Corinne Umphrey, and perhaps she will let us share a message. I felt a divine hand of orchestration in our second encounter with this breakfast-making diva. Perhaps God has a metaphorical spatula in His hands and He's stewing up something nice for the children He so loves...
I sense some providential eggs on the skillet today!
*sorry all you loved ones over 60...it's only old if you're a tiny bopper like me. You are obviously only a day over 30.
**Name changed but only slightly. It's such a fitting name for the woman of description.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Priorities
"When priorities are in place, one can more patiently endure unfinished business."
~Elder Russell M. Nelson
~Elder Russell M. Nelson
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Greenie
Amateur. Novice. Infant.
New.
Newness is hard, and sometimes I forget that.
I have been reading my journal from a year ago, and I hardly recognize the faith-filled struggle that faced Sister Stewart of January 2013. Everything was hard: talking to people; getting up; smiling; feeling good; looking good; working fast; teaching well.
Sister Ellis expresses the challenge perfectly:
"It kind of feels like I went to school naked, and every now and then I'm getting clothes. But it's nothing big-like a sock or a headband or something."
This is it exactly! The mission thrusts us beyond "developmentally appropriate curriculum" and into a world that is as divine as it is challenging.We gain skills and faith little by little, but it never feels like enough to cover our vulnerable consecrated offering. And it is in the is overwhelming experience that we lose ourselves, find ourselves, and learn who the Christ really is.
Now I watch Sister Ellis battle the Goliaths unique to being a new missionary, and I wish that I could promise her a quick-fix to peace and confidence. But I feel that the endowment of power that I have received (and that which she will also receive) is the culmination of faith-filled days. There is power alone in enduring to the end, in learning to trust God, day after difficult day, for the duration of 18 or 24 months. If I were with the hosts of Israel as they wandered in the wilderness, I am sure that I would have tried to store up extra manna for my tomorrows. But the mission will not allow it. I am so grateful for 13 months under my belt. Thirteen months represents approximately 400 days of gathering manna.
And now I trust in God.
I still work hard, but I don't credit successes or failures to my own efforts. As Paul said, "I have planned, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase." (1 Cor 3:6)
This is His work. New things grow old, and seasons pass away. But we are saints of all seasons, and He will Guide us in every stage.
New.
Newness is hard, and sometimes I forget that.
I have been reading my journal from a year ago, and I hardly recognize the faith-filled struggle that faced Sister Stewart of January 2013. Everything was hard: talking to people; getting up; smiling; feeling good; looking good; working fast; teaching well.
Sister Ellis expresses the challenge perfectly:
"It kind of feels like I went to school naked, and every now and then I'm getting clothes. But it's nothing big-like a sock or a headband or something."
This is it exactly! The mission thrusts us beyond "developmentally appropriate curriculum" and into a world that is as divine as it is challenging.We gain skills and faith little by little, but it never feels like enough to cover our vulnerable consecrated offering. And it is in the is overwhelming experience that we lose ourselves, find ourselves, and learn who the Christ really is.
Now I watch Sister Ellis battle the Goliaths unique to being a new missionary, and I wish that I could promise her a quick-fix to peace and confidence. But I feel that the endowment of power that I have received (and that which she will also receive) is the culmination of faith-filled days. There is power alone in enduring to the end, in learning to trust God, day after difficult day, for the duration of 18 or 24 months. If I were with the hosts of Israel as they wandered in the wilderness, I am sure that I would have tried to store up extra manna for my tomorrows. But the mission will not allow it. I am so grateful for 13 months under my belt. Thirteen months represents approximately 400 days of gathering manna.
And now I trust in God.
I still work hard, but I don't credit successes or failures to my own efforts. As Paul said, "I have planned, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase." (1 Cor 3:6)
This is His work. New things grow old, and seasons pass away. But we are saints of all seasons, and He will Guide us in every stage.
Miracles, duly noted
"Never live life without miracles." -Elder Neil L. Anderson
* My companion opened up this week. This is big, because she's been trying to battle her demons alone. I feel the tension, but there's nothing I can do until she talks. Now we're growing close, and I know that God can burst the pavilion that she thought was separating them.
*Food. Lots of it! We only had two meal appointment this week. I'm spoiled, and I hate to see a week with blank dinner slots. Members help fight discouragement, and their food helps fight the grocery bill. So I prayed, and Brother Newman* (a big-hearted inactive gentleman) responded. He delivered three large bags of groceries. Now our cupboards are stocked, and I know that God hears my petty, tummy-rumbling prayers.
*ARP. I love the church's addiction recovery program! We started working through step one with a less-active woman who is trying to quit smoking. We felt inspired to bring a counselor from the Relief Society with us, and it turns out that she is also struggling with smoking! We simply sat back and let the two of them encourage each other. What a miracle.
* New investigators, no effort required. We chatted with our neighbor Laura* as we always do (she smokes outside, so we see her all the time). She mentioned that her niece moved in with her, and she readily accepted the invitation to get her 13-year-old involved in Young Womens. Ellie* carpooled with us to a Bishop Chat last night, and our sweet young women looked past her non-For-Strength-of-Youth-outfit and befriended her. Miracle!
*Green! It's my favorite color. It is also the color that represents "healthy" on the missionary stress test. I have spent most of my mission in an anxious orange zone, but green is my new norm! Huzzah!! God is blessing me with skills to overcome anxiety. No pill required, simply doctrine of Christ applied.
*Names changed. Bonus points if you find yourself despite the alias!
* My companion opened up this week. This is big, because she's been trying to battle her demons alone. I feel the tension, but there's nothing I can do until she talks. Now we're growing close, and I know that God can burst the pavilion that she thought was separating them.
*Food. Lots of it! We only had two meal appointment this week. I'm spoiled, and I hate to see a week with blank dinner slots. Members help fight discouragement, and their food helps fight the grocery bill. So I prayed, and Brother Newman* (a big-hearted inactive gentleman) responded. He delivered three large bags of groceries. Now our cupboards are stocked, and I know that God hears my petty, tummy-rumbling prayers.
*ARP. I love the church's addiction recovery program! We started working through step one with a less-active woman who is trying to quit smoking. We felt inspired to bring a counselor from the Relief Society with us, and it turns out that she is also struggling with smoking! We simply sat back and let the two of them encourage each other. What a miracle.
* New investigators, no effort required. We chatted with our neighbor Laura* as we always do (she smokes outside, so we see her all the time). She mentioned that her niece moved in with her, and she readily accepted the invitation to get her 13-year-old involved in Young Womens. Ellie* carpooled with us to a Bishop Chat last night, and our sweet young women looked past her non-For-Strength-of-Youth-outfit and befriended her. Miracle!
*Green! It's my favorite color. It is also the color that represents "healthy" on the missionary stress test. I have spent most of my mission in an anxious orange zone, but green is my new norm! Huzzah!! God is blessing me with skills to overcome anxiety. No pill required, simply doctrine of Christ applied.
*Names changed. Bonus points if you find yourself despite the alias!
Monday, January 6, 2014
Miracle Number 27,000,009
Really, I've lost count. As soon as I quit counting the costs, the miracles skyrocketed.
This week's miracle must be told in three parts. Probably there are more than three characters involved, but these are the key players.
1. Sister Chants*. Old lady with sweet words and a terrible driving record. Takes the missionaries to Cici's Pizza whenever we have a blank on the dinner calendar. Calls us on cold days to make sure we're OK. A saint by all accounts. Her greatest challenge is memory loss. She can't prepare a primary lesson in advance because it will slip from her mind before she has time to deliver it. So, in faith, she simply reads the lesson straight from the manual. I'm not sure how her 8 year-old students respond to this, but it is her token of faith, and God magnifies the gift.
2. Sister Gifford*. Our bishop's wife, fondly dubbed "Heavenly Mother" by the missionaries. She has six children and wears a perma-smile. Somehow makes time to come teaching with the missionaries and to raise bright, happy kids. When wrapping Christmas gifts with her recently, she commented that she felt bad that she isn't a better missionary. "I should be giving out Book of Mormons and finding people to teach, but sometimes I just don't know where I'd fit that into my day," she said. We know better. Life comes in seasons, and her season is one of being a missionary to her children.
3. Tina*. New investigator, recovering addict. She has tried to quilt before, but this time it was for her kids. They are a story of their own. Two adorable little boys, and one has red hair. Melt my heart. We taught them a Christmas lesson about Christ, and her boys eagerly accepted Book of Mormons and an invitation to baptism. We set a return appointment with glowing visions of their family filling an empty pew in the OKC 2nd ward.
On Saturday we arrived a Tina's home with Sister Gifford in tow. She brought Marcus* and Lyle*, ages 9 and 11. They were excited to teach the restoration to Tina's boys. Much to our sorrow, Tina was indisposed and could not meet. Sister Gifford spoke cheerfully to Tina, we invited the family to church, and then they loaded up their minivan and left.
On Sunday we reminded Tina about church. No response to our text. We sat at the back of the chapel and hoped. Our hopes were vain, as no family arrived. Disappointment is the common lot of missionary work, but this is not the end of the story.
Our story continues with Sister Chants. That same day, she read her primary lesson to her class. sister Gifford's nine year-old was the only child in attendance, so they sat in a little room and she read while he listened. A dull lesson to most children, but Lyle went home that day and told his mom about the lesson. "Mom, I heard a story about a family who said a prayer, and the prayer wasn't answered. So then they fasted, and their prayer came true!" He then concluded, "I want to fast for Tina's family to come to church."
And so on a Monday morning while we blindly pursued our P-day activities, a consecrated nine year-old prayerfully skipped breakfast so our investigators would come to church.
This the miracle. I do not know how the story will end, but I do know that the faith of a child-the unexpected product of many faithful adults-has given me the faith that I need to believe. I will work harder and pray more this week because a child cared enough about his neighbors to sacrifice his bowl of cereal for their salvation.
This week's miracle must be told in three parts. Probably there are more than three characters involved, but these are the key players.
1. Sister Chants*. Old lady with sweet words and a terrible driving record. Takes the missionaries to Cici's Pizza whenever we have a blank on the dinner calendar. Calls us on cold days to make sure we're OK. A saint by all accounts. Her greatest challenge is memory loss. She can't prepare a primary lesson in advance because it will slip from her mind before she has time to deliver it. So, in faith, she simply reads the lesson straight from the manual. I'm not sure how her 8 year-old students respond to this, but it is her token of faith, and God magnifies the gift.
2. Sister Gifford*. Our bishop's wife, fondly dubbed "Heavenly Mother" by the missionaries. She has six children and wears a perma-smile. Somehow makes time to come teaching with the missionaries and to raise bright, happy kids. When wrapping Christmas gifts with her recently, she commented that she felt bad that she isn't a better missionary. "I should be giving out Book of Mormons and finding people to teach, but sometimes I just don't know where I'd fit that into my day," she said. We know better. Life comes in seasons, and her season is one of being a missionary to her children.
3. Tina*. New investigator, recovering addict. She has tried to quilt before, but this time it was for her kids. They are a story of their own. Two adorable little boys, and one has red hair. Melt my heart. We taught them a Christmas lesson about Christ, and her boys eagerly accepted Book of Mormons and an invitation to baptism. We set a return appointment with glowing visions of their family filling an empty pew in the OKC 2nd ward.
On Saturday we arrived a Tina's home with Sister Gifford in tow. She brought Marcus* and Lyle*, ages 9 and 11. They were excited to teach the restoration to Tina's boys. Much to our sorrow, Tina was indisposed and could not meet. Sister Gifford spoke cheerfully to Tina, we invited the family to church, and then they loaded up their minivan and left.
On Sunday we reminded Tina about church. No response to our text. We sat at the back of the chapel and hoped. Our hopes were vain, as no family arrived. Disappointment is the common lot of missionary work, but this is not the end of the story.
Our story continues with Sister Chants. That same day, she read her primary lesson to her class. sister Gifford's nine year-old was the only child in attendance, so they sat in a little room and she read while he listened. A dull lesson to most children, but Lyle went home that day and told his mom about the lesson. "Mom, I heard a story about a family who said a prayer, and the prayer wasn't answered. So then they fasted, and their prayer came true!" He then concluded, "I want to fast for Tina's family to come to church."
And so on a Monday morning while we blindly pursued our P-day activities, a consecrated nine year-old prayerfully skipped breakfast so our investigators would come to church.
This the miracle. I do not know how the story will end, but I do know that the faith of a child-the unexpected product of many faithful adults-has given me the faith that I need to believe. I will work harder and pray more this week because a child cared enough about his neighbors to sacrifice his bowl of cereal for their salvation.
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