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
- En el autobus, yendo al CCM (In the bus, arriving at the CCM)
- El primer día, cuando llegamos al CCM (The first day, when we arrived at the CCM
- Mis cuates del cuarto (My roommates) (Elder Ricks, his companion, is in the back)
- Desayuno esta mañana en el Comedor (Breakfast this morning in the Cafeteria)
- Yo, estando guapo (I, being handsome)
- Los pájaros verdes, que están interesantes (Green birds which were interesting)
- Mi distrito (My district)
- Uno de los cocineros buenos, quién se llama Esteban (One of the good cooks, whose name is Esteban)
No comments:
Post a Comment