Growing Pains (in Mexico CCM)

Greetings, all,

This week has been painful, off and on. I have felt a bit of darkness creep into my mind due to some hazing from the others in my district, but that problem was resolved peacefully and I am feeling good again. However, I want you, any who read this, to know that there really is a line that can be crossed in teasing. The rule is always that the line must be drawn by the receiver, not by anyone else, and all others must respect that. My line was crossed, but it's all right, now; I just wanted to make sure everyone understands that. You never know for sure what your words will mean to others. Padres, I realize I'm guilty of this folly, too; I´m sorry for that. I'm earnestly trying to do better.

Somehow, life here feels weirdly normal. Probably because it's just 24/7 schooling, which was basically what high school felt like at times. There is so much to do that the excuse of procrastination is actually unnecessary, because there legitimately is not enough time to do all that we are told to do, when we are told to do it. We are given assignments to study a chapter of Predicad Mi Evangelio and then also memorize fifty vocab words and a heap of phrases and memorize a scripture and THEN study the scriptures by ourselves and with our companions and THEN I have to write in my journal. And more. It's stressful, but I'm glad for the push to be better. My Spanish skill is coming along very well as a result of it, and I can feel that the Spirit is helping me retain what I am learning. I'm starting to learn subjunctive and commands, and that's weird, especially because English doesn't even USE the subjunctive tense, but I'm getting it. Ojalá, I will master it quickly.

I can't remember if I've mentioned this before, but our district was visited in class in our first week by the CCM teaching coordinator, Hermano Castañeda. He promised us that we would be fluent by the time we left. We also discovered afterwards that no other class received such a promise. That has been such a grand inspiration to us, and we want to work hard to fulfill that promise in ourselves. I'm feeling it already; I'm on the brink of speaking fluently (not perfectly, or with full vocabulary, mind you, but fluently, naturally). That is amazing.

I feel I should mention something that's really funny: the men's restrooms are the new social media platform. As Elder Steck said so eloquently, "I don't believe in Instagram, I believe in the men's bathroom." There are so many elders that we only ever see in the bathroom, and that's where we catch up on news from the other districts. There are also so many funny comments that fly back and forth. Someone walks into the bathroom and hears something or other and exclaims, "Is that elder Ricks?!" Someone else hears, pops their head into the bathroom and yells, "RICKS?!!?!" and it degrades from there. It's hilarious.

A metaphor I came up with this week is extremely nerdy, and I love it so much. It's a spiritual Dyson Sphere. A Dyson Sphere is a concept megastructure that would be built around the Sun, completely encasing it and collecting every bit of its output power, yielding unspeakably enormous usable energy for that civilization. But to build it, it would require just about all the matter in Mercury, Venus, Mars, the asteroid belt, and probably the Kuiper belt, too. So, as long as you're willing to sacrifice those to become an ultra-powerful civilization, go for it. But here's the awesome metaphor: the entire point of life is to try to build a Dyson Sphere around the Son. Christ has to be at the center, and then we begin to build around Him, collecting His power as we center our lives on Him. Just like the real thing, we need to make worlds of sacrifices, giving up worldly cares to move those resources to Him. And as we continually try to build up the entire sphere, we gain more spiritual power. I drew a picture of it, and I attached it below. It has become a powerful symbol of hope for me, and I might really use that as my lifelong metaphor (it definitely fits in with my intended line of work). I love it so much. Actually, Elder Ricks loved the picture so much he asked me to give him a copy of it! That made me feel good.

Speaking of nerdy stuff, thank you, Padres, for the pictures of Ultima Thule; it's amazing!

For this week's scripture, I want to share one that I discovered. DyC 88:66-68:

"Behold, that which you hear is as the voice of one crying in the wilderness—in the wilderness, because you cannot see him—my voice, because my voice is Spirit; my Spirit is truth; truth abideth and hath no end; and if it be in you it shall abound. And if your eye be single to my glory, your whole bodies shall be filled with light, and there shall be no darkness in you; and that body which is filled with light comprehendeth all things. Therefore, sanctify yourselves that your minds become single to God, and the days will come that you shall see him; for he will unveil his face unto you, and it shall be in his own time, and in his own way, and according to his own will."

That line, that I can comprehend all things, really hits home for me, especially out here. If I cut out other cares (sacrificing the asteroid belt for my spiritual Dyson Sphere), I can comprehend all things. That is a wonderful thought.

Guys, the Gospel is so cool. It all fits together so well.

Anyway, that's all I have time for right now, but please remember that I love you all. I'm doing this for the Argentines, for myself, and for you back home, too. I pray that God will be with you, just as I can feel He is with me.

Hasta semana.

Love,

Elder Hill

Fotografías:

1. Caricaturas de los Élderes Garcia, Steck, Ehlen, y Lingwall.
2. Esfera incompleta de Dyson.
3. (Desde izquierda a la derecha) Hnas. Kimball y Banks, y Élderes Harrell y Lingwall.
4. Jugando "Four Square" en forma de fútbol.
5. Élderes Harrell y Wilkinson jugando voleibol.

Tenemos más fotografías, pero no sé dónde están.

Jello with Salsa (end of 2nd week in CCM)

Friends, Romans, countrymen,

I forgot to ask last week, but could someone update me on the results of the Ultima Thule flyby (in astronomical news), as well as a picture, if possible? I want to see what was determined about it. Because I'm a nerd.

This is such a beautiful city. I just have to say that. It smells terrible, but the vibrant colors everywhere make it feel so much more alive than Phoenix. Also, having a responsibility to personally clean the house and do my own laundry is actually pretty fun! I'm surprised at how much it doesn't bother me.

My classes are still stressful, but I'm learning a lot, especially of Spanish. The gift of tongues is real, and I continue to be amazed by my mastery. My branch president said something last week that inspired me to work harder in my time here: "You should be working like everything depends on you and praying like everything depends on the Lord." There's a long way to go yet, but I'm covering ground faster than I am able to do alone.

I am very, VERY proud to say that I have eaten jello every meal of every day, ever since I arrived here, which now makes a perfect, successful streak of 48 times, and counting. Also, I tried jello with salsa verde on it, and I can easily say that it is terrible. For some reason. In case you were wondering. Oh, and while I'm on a weird topic already, my roommates have been hiding goldfish crackers all over the room, and it's hilarious because I can just be going about my day normally and then suddenly a fish falls from nowhere. It truly is a wonderful experience; this is probably what Celestial life is like. Plus conveyor-belt toasters, of course. Oh, and I also figured out last night that the resonant frequency of my skull is a B. It's really fun to hum that note because it booms in my head and makes my teeth chatter. And thus I close the insane chapter of my letter.

This morning, Elder Ricks led me in my first real workout ever, and after about an hour my arms were a bit swollen with unusually intense blood flow. I went all the way until I couldn't go any more. I'm actually feeling great right now, but I know it takes a while for the soul-crushing soreness to set in. Heaven help me.

We had a devotional recently in which we were taught the Plan of Salvation in a way I had never seen before, which makes so much sense. We were shown exactly why women and men are equal in their responsibilities, in the eternal scheme: women bring God's children away from His presence and into the world, where the men then use their priesthood power and bring them back Home (all of it obviously revolving around the power of Christ, though). It's eye-opening. We were also told a story about one hermana who was at the CCM somewhat recently, who was struggling with serious homesickness. As she thought about it one day, she had a thought come into her mind from God: I miss my family, too; bring them home. Dang. That's powerful. No matter how much I miss you all, I can safely presume that He misses all of us more than I do, and I'll follow Him instead.

I gave my first blessing the night before last. Elder Ricks has all of the symptoms of sleep apnea that I know of, so he sleeps terribly and ends up asleep in class daily, so he asked for a blessing of peace of mind to help him sleep. I offered to dictate it, and he accepted. As I spoke slowly, my hands on his head along with Elders Ehlen and Harrell, I could feel the words coming from another place, through me to him. It was a wonderful experience, and I am also so glad I got to experience that with my companion.

I found a scripture this week that resonated with me, and I want to share it. Alma 13:1-2: "And again, my brethren, I would cite your minds forward to the time when the Lord God gave these commandments unto his children; and I would that ye should remember that the Lord God ordained priests, after his holy order, which was after the order of his Son, to teach these things unto the people. And these priests were ordained after the order of his Son, in a manner that thereby the people might know in what manner to look forward to his Son for redemption." Whoa. I have literally been called to be a model of Christ! The people I teach will know the Salvador when He comes, by way of my example. That is humbling.

Thus I close my relation: life is good, and God is better.

Sending love from Mexico,

Elder Hill

Pictures:

Pez

Pez

Pez

Yo y Élder Ricks somos raros

Despues del ejercicio

Élder Ricks, comiendo

Yo mismo

No, Brother Everton, I did not cry myself to sleep.

Amigos queridos,

First off, I'm sorry that I didn't email last week; we were not given a P-day, so I've been chugging along with no breaks for about ten days, now.

I can't even describe how amazing this all is. Brother Everton, an instructor of the Mission Prep class at home, said repeatedly that every missionary cries himself to sleep on the first night. Nah, I'm not about that life. THIS IS AWESOME. I am having such a great time. The food is exactly as amazing as everyone says it is, and it's so wonderful being surrounded by hundreds of others who are also learning (or natively speaking) Spanish. I have felt the gift of tongues more strongly than I expected, by far, and my vocabulary has already boomed, and I can understand most of what the Latinos say. This is definitely miraculous, because, I would never have expected to be able to do this. All the teachers and leaders are promising that we will leave the CCM (Centro de Capacitación Misional) speaking fluent Spanish, if we put our minds and hearts to it, and though I doubted them at first, I'm already starting to feel like I'm on the brink of it! Miraculous.

Mi compañero, Élder Ricks, is a really good guy! He and Elder Steck are both from Mesa, and both are also going to Mendoza with me! We are different in so many ways, but somehow we haven't butted heads at all. That is a miracle, too! He is surprisingly spiritually-minded, and we both feel the same effects of the gift of tongues. He is better at speaking it because of extra practice he got at his job before coming here, but we are both at about the same level (which is also astounding, because he took four years of Spanish, as opposed to my two). My roommates are the same way, and I keep being surprised at their spiritually-centered comments. I am surrounded by angeles. Also, everyone in my room writes in their journals nightly, too, and that makes me very proud and happy.

My schedule is more packed now than I had expected. It's not as bad as some times I've experienced, but it's close. Especially the first week, we had very little personal time. It has loosened up a tad since then, but we still have about 13-hour days, with only a small bit of that being devoted to meals. Personal time comes AFTER those 13 hours. Ouch. But it's okay. I can stand this for six weeks, easily.

A couple of members of my district discovered in the Comedor a magical object. THE CONVEYOR-BELT TOASTER. It's the perfect analogy for the mission, because we're going into the fire of conversion and coming out better than before. WHOA! You put bread onto the conveyor belt, it goes into the machine and ascends to Heaven, where it is praised by the myriads of angelic tongues of fire and changed into a purer form, then it comes back out into the tray, just as manna came to the Israelites. Guys, this is incredible, revolutionary, innovative. The Church is true. Now my testimony is officially based solely on this toaster.

I have an experience to share. Two nights ago, we were having a district prayer after our classes were over for the day, before going home. Elder Steck began the prayer, saying "Querido Padre Celestial", which was all well and good. But then he stepped out of line. One thing that you have to understand before my telling what he said is that everyone EVERYONE says this in their prayers. At least, the gringos do, because they're reading it out of a book. Thus, it has become an inside joke in our district, which is a very bad thing, as you will see. He continues, "Te damos gracias por Tu amor." At that point, most of us bite back explosive laughter, and my companion nudges another elder, with whom he had just been discussing that joke earlier. The latter lets out pent up flatulence, and we all completely lose it, desperately trying to rein ourselves back in. Elder Steck, astonishingly, continues onward in his oracion calmly, despite the intense storm blowing inside the room. By the time he finished, I had not been breathing for about two minutes. Yes, his prayer was that long, through the gale of brimstone, and his composure only made it that much funnier. We were laughing the entire way home, and all through the next day. Guys, I just want to say I love my district.

Now, for a more serious experience. Yesterday morning, we were practicing teaching about something-or-other in class, and Elder Ehlen (one of my roommates) gave me feedback that somehow cut me to the center of my soul. He told me I wasn't sensitive enough to the situation of the hypothetical investigator, but with stronger words. He wasn't angry, offended, etc., it was just advice; it hurt, though, because it suddenly broke down a wall of pride I didn't know I had. I came into the mission feeling so prepared to teach, then I got to the CCM and felt the gift of tongues so strongly as I learned Spanish. I felt prepared, and then this. I have trusted in my own knowledge more than I have in the Spirit. I felt so sad and alone for hours. I was set apart to be a representative of Jesus Christ, but I did so pridefully. How could I? It came to a head when we were doing a district service project, pulling weeds in a field in the compound. It was fun enough, but my mind was on other things. The song "Square One" by Coldplay came into my head, and the last lines brought me to tears. "Is there anybody out there who is lost, and hurt, and lonely, too? Are they bleeding all your colors into one? And if you come undone, as if you'd been run through, some catapult it fired you, you wonder if your chance'll ever come, or if you're stuck in square one." Immediately after I thought of that, I heard words come into my head, very similar to those of Ether 12:27. "I give this unto you that you may be humble." My mind was turned to the Argentines I will be teaching, and to my Patriarchal blessing which says they will know the truth of the Gospel through my humility, and I cried while pulling weeds. Suffice it to say that I felt terrible for my pride, and was overcome with the feeling that I need to shape up and pull my weight alongside mi Salvador. I am going to work. All I need to remember is something I realized even before I left: my mission will be easy; all I have to do is tell the truth. But even then, I need to remember that I am not the One who knows the truth that I will speak. I will open my mouth, and THEN it will be filled, for I found out in a very difficult way that I cannot fill my own mouth.

All that said, I feel at home here. Este es el trabajo del Redentor; soy Su criado, y estoy lleno de esperanza y listo para aprender mediante del Espíritu, hasta el fin.

I'm sorry if there were any questions asked of me that I failed to respond to; there were about a dozen of them, and I don't have enough time to compare those emails I received to the one I'm writing. You are free to ask again, if you wish; I probably won't remember, otherwise.

God be with you all.

Love,

Elder Hill

1. En el autobus, yendo al CCM (In the bus, arriving at the CCM)
2. El primer día, cuando llegamos al CCM (The first day, when we arrived at the CCM
3. Mis cuates del cuarto (My roommates) (Elder Ricks, his companion, is in the back)
4. Desayuno esta mañana en el Comedor (Breakfast this morning in the Cafeteria)
5. Yo, estando guapo (I, being handsome)
6. Los pájaros verdes, que están interesantes (Green birds which were interesting)
7. Mi distrito (My district)
8. Uno de los cocineros buenos, quién se llama Esteban (One of the good cooks, whose name is Esteban)

First Email from Elder Hill (Mexico MTC)

Subject line:  Greetings from Not-America!

Padres, I am at the CCMM right now, and I remain alive and well, and, best of all, very happy! I feel at home. (Says the person who hasn't done anything here yet except get a tetanus shot - apparently they require missionaries to have it every fifth year, not tenth.) I am not nearly as nervous as I feared I would be; I am about the Lord's errand, and I feel confident.

My trip was crowded, as I was traveling with around two dozen other missionaries! That is obviously far more than I had expected. My favorite interaction of the trip was in the airport when some random guy in a line started talking with us. When he heard where I'm going, he turned to me and said, "Too bad you're not a heathen." I spluttered a bit in confusion, and asked what he meant by that. He responded, "It has great wine and beautiful women!" Wow. I did not see that coming. XD

Thank you for getting me to this point, and for teaching me well enough that I feel comfortable here. I love you all. God speed the right.

Love,

Elder Hill

P.S.  Oh, and I forgot to say: my P-days here are on Friday.

Pics from the CCM Facebook Page: