How It Happened: The Surprisingly Uneventful Story of the Conversion of Margaret David

A letter from my dear friend, whom I happened to meet as a missionary, and whom I most definitely did NOT convert. 

June 6, 2014

My dear Jenny,

It is such a privelege to write you, love. I know that you will recieve my letters with much rejoicing, and that fills my soul with sunshine and rainbows. And now (*drumroll*) the moment you've been waiting for ...How It Happened: The Surprisingly Uneventful Story of the Conversion of Margaret David!

Jenny, I know you would think that I'm so very interesting that I would just *have* to have a really great story. And of course, it is really, really great in its very own way, but I'm a firm believer that the best is yet to come; I can feel it even thought I can't quite identify it. Still, I will try to humor you as much as possible.

If there were a key to all of this, I know more than ever the power of God's timing and the perfection of His plan. There are so many components, small and large, that have led me here. I had to get a job in Oklahoma City, be furloughed from that job, work at Philmont, meet Jacob the one day he was scheduled to be at my camp, foster that friendship the next time I saw him, fall in love and want to know all I could about the things that are important to him, choose to maintain a long distance relationship, choose to work part of the winter in Idaho which allowed me to get used to going to church with him, see how his lovely family operated in light of their faith, make the difficult move back to OKC to get my job back, find out that Jacob planned to spend a good chunk of time here, feel compelled to start going to the ward in an attempt to network him a place to stay (which worked out beautifully, by the way), feel incredibly welcomed that first day, and then take the opportunities I've been given to learn and grow since that time.

And those are only SOME of the physical things! Here's the good stuff:

Turning Point #1: When I went teaching with you all the very first time, I was moved by her simple faith, She clearly didn't feel like she needed to know everything in order to follow the pull of her heart. I felt small in comparison; I thought my faith was so great, but I realized belief is only a part of that. She was willing to act without complete understanding. I was blessed that night.

Turning Point #2: I read a book called 'Til Faith Do Us Part,' knowing more fully as I finished it that I was far more naïve about my interfaith relationship than I imaged. While this did little to convince me for or against the LDS faith, it did much in the way of showing me how much better it can be for partners to be religiously united. So, I was able to give conversion a fair chance and due consideration. At the very least, I promised myself and Jacob that I wouldn't rule it out.

Turning Point #3: This one was scary. I was fasting one day and asked Abba what I should study. He responded immediately and tangibly, as a voice in my head: "CONSIDER MY WORD." Wow, okay, sure. What exactly do you want me to read? Three times at least, softly in my consciousness at first and then finally I heard clearly: "READ THE BOOK OF MORMON." I literally and physically had a panic attack (saying, "God, you're giving me a panic attack!" to which He quickly replied, "No, you are giving you a panic attack." Funny guy.).  I finally composed myself and read that day 2 Nephi 1-2, 31-32. It showed me that if I could dig that deeply into this book, it was certainly written by the greatest Author of our faith.

Turning Point #4: Reading "Falling in Love with Joseph Smith." 'Nuff said.

Turning Point #4.5: Admitting to Jacob that I love this church and simultaneously finally being answered by my Heavenly Father that the little blue book is truly His.

Turning Point #5: Not being invited to be baptized by you all (if that makes any sense).

Turning Point #6: Feeling a part of the congregation enough to testify in church on June the First 2014 that nothing we do comes as a surprise to God.

Turning Point #7: Having a very long/good convo with Bishop Gillespie and saying yes to his invitation, my first invite from the ward.

Turning Point #8: Realizing my deep fear ("What are you afraid of?" "I don't even know.") only existed as an exercise to hold on to the homeostasis of my faith. Repenting of that blatant sin, receiving true forgiveness, and feeling the fear leave me as quickly as I prayed sincerely, "Lord, I don't want this fear as an excuse anymore!" Then, I was left without any excuse, I'm free to just do.

J, it was only a matter of time, but it had to happen just as it did. Otherwise, I'd never be convinced of myself. It had to be Him all along. He had to show me little by little. This is all true, every whit, and I give it to you in Christ's name, Amen.

love, MED

Liminal Space

Liminal: of, relating to, or being an intermediate state, phase, or condition : in-between, transitional

I love liminal spaces. Airports are my favorite.

The moment that I have dreamed about for 18 months was even better than my nighttime visions.

There were seven of us flying into Salt Lake City, four elders and three sisters. We waited until everyone else was off the plane, and then we delayed a little longer by stopping by the restrooms. When we arrived at the escalators, we froze. There was a great debate about who should go first, but no one volunteered as tribute. We were stuck in a liminal space, too excited and jittery to burst into a new world. 

God sent an angel. He didn't look like one, but I'm sure he was. A nonassuming airport serviceman. He was a smiley man of hispanic descent with a small stud in each ear. He shouted to us as we hovered by the moving stairs.

"Scared?"

We responded in the affirmative. 

"Follow me! They can't see you if you come down the elevator."

Sneak-attack! It was a brilliant plot. We piled into the elevator made only for wheelchairs (this was permissible because he was pushing a woman in a wheelchair, and he had a badge that made him look official enough). It was a short descent. 

He spoke encouraging words over his shoulders while he pushed us down the hall, around the corner...

and there was Ellie on Dad's shoulders. And then a blur of banners and a roaring kindred crowd. I headed to the left where I knew my family was. I didn't mean to cry, but it felt so safe. I felt relief. 

The mission is oh, so good. 
But I'm quite sure that I have passed from a telestial sphere to one nearly celestial.

"Our heaven is little more than a projection of our homes into eternity" --Richard L Stephens

Amazing Week!

Dressed for Prayer

Dressing appropriately for prayer with our new Muslim friends from Morocco.

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

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:

Two handsome nephews, ready to dig with me.

Two adorable nieces, with one more on the way.

Family History on Campus

The Spirit of Elijah is alive and well on the OCCC campus! Triple the referrals!

Matching Little House on the Prairie Dresses

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

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

Oklahoma Grandparents

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

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.

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.)

*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!!

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.

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.

Juevos Verdes

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.

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.