The Dealer, and my $100

Guys,

I literally found $100 in the street.

But, sadly, that's worth $2.28 in the US, so it's not really overly exciting.

¿Saben que más encontré en la calle? I also found a dog. Or, a little bit of a dog. It was actually only the head and the lower half of one leg, tossed into the gutter. It was horrendous. But, speaking of dogs, one memeber has a black dog that they call Dealer, because he's black. I love it.

On Saturday, Elder Cardozo and I talked with 83 people in the streets, which easily overtook our previous record of 52. We feel really good about that.

Honestly, there is not a whole heap to write about this week, specifically. But I have one experience I would like to share. Our investigator named Pedro, who is the man who has visions and sees spirits, etc., also accepted the book of Doctrine and Covenants as scripture! It is very difficult to teach him because he ceaseth not to preach God's mercy to us with a mountain of continuous storytelling from his experiences. For that reason, we couldn't finish the lesson on the Plan of Salvation in one go because we already reached two hours and had only taught half the lesson. But this time we tried again to teach the latter half with DyC, now that he accepts it as scripture, and we met with success! He paid closer attention, and we made more progress than normal. We taught him the judgment, resurrection, and the three Glories, focusing on the latter, and he accepted it! He told us that what we had explained legitimately helped him because of a vision he once had. He was carried up to Heaven by Christ and saw the brilliant light and angels, as well as the inferno beneath; but he also saw an even more immense light that he couldn't penetrate, and he said he knew that was the presence of the Father; thus, he now has a personal experience that taught him the three levels of the Heavens, which I have never seen before.

But I'll end with my testimony that this is the truth. I know so many people say that so often, and it actually bothers me a lot sometimes that people can't find other words to say the same thought. But recently I have come to understand better why other words are unnecessary. The beginning of a testimony is a scrap of faith that this is the truth, and as we grow in that faith we learn other things that make that simplistic base un-useful. But after that, with even more time and more growth, we return to the beginning, and we begin to need nothing more than the thought that this is the truth. And I say these words with all the weight of my soul that I can apply in weak written words: I know it. And I declare it in the name of Jesus Christ, the Creator, Mediator, and Redeemer. Amén.

Que Dios esté con vosotros,

Élder Hill

Fotos:

• Pool el P-Day pasado
• Élderes después de una Tormenta Blanca en Mendoza Centro en miércoles
• Hannah, esta foto es para vos. Hay vendedores que andan por las calles con caballos. También hay policías montadas, pero no tengo una foto de ellas.  [Hannah, this photo is for you.  There are vendors who walk the streets with horses.  There are also mounted police, but I don't have a photo of them.]
• Fotos de esta mañana

Bicicletas, Futuros Investigadores, y Duodecuple ALB (Aguante Messi)

Guys,

This week was okay.

We had interviews with Presidente Panzacchi, the mission president, and he helped Elder Cardozo and me to fix things in our companionship better. Now we are finally doing better. But hey, at least Presidente knows how prideful the missionaries are from Buenos Aires, so I'm not alone. And really, if he says something is so, it is so, so I'm glad I'm right in one tiny, itty-bitty way. Congratulations, Pride of Elder Hill, you have now gained the first victory in your wretched life. Disfrutate: it will probably never happen again.

But on Saturday we received a gift from Presidente and Hermana Panzacchi: ¡¡¡¡bicicletas!!!! We can FINALLY reach the north, south, and west borders of our area, which I legitimately have never visited before, even after so much time spent here. It is so great riding down all the numerous sloped streets, and it is completely worth it despite our having to go back up again afterwards. We can now get to the chapel in eight minutes, or so, which is SO much better than a half hour by foot. We can even get to Mendoza Centro in a half hour, which is twenty minutes faster than by bus because we go directly and don't have to wait for anything. Ba-da-baa-baa-baaaaa. I'm loving it.

Then, last night, we had an interesting experience. We were wandering in the streets to talk with people, and we discovered that the part that we usually visit, for the constantly huge number of people in the streets, had a blackout, so we didn't want to talk with people over there because we didn't want to scare them with our dark clothing in the smothering darkness. So we just kept wandering, aimlessly seeking people to talk with. I started wondering why we were doing basically nothing, but then I felt a light peace calm me subconsciously (which I only saw in retrospect for the lightness of the effect), and we continued wandering. We ended up right back where we started, in the barrio next to the one without light, and then we got to talking with a man in the street who randomly appeared. We presented ourselves, gave a sales pitch (if you've been a missionary, you know that's basically what it is), and he actually seemed interested. He told us to share a bit right there in the street, so I began explaining an abbreviated version of the Apostasy and the Restoration of the Gospel, and he grew more interested, even asking questions! That was the first time I have ever found a legitimately interested person just by talking with him in the calle. After nearly seven months of my mission (whoa, that's a lot), I still had never experienced that before. He accepted an appointment, and we'll meet with him again tomorrow. I have very high hopes for him. Also, after we parted ways, I realized that literally every second of wandering we were Guided specifically to him. That is awesome, in a very literal way.

After that experience, I was feeling really good for us finally having found someone who we might be able to teach, and then I saw a family group of twenty, more or less, walking on the other side of the street. I told Elder Cardozo to talk with them, but he said I was crazy. He also didn't think I would do it, either; and, frankly, neither did I. But I did. I stopped them all and talked with them. In short, they didn't want anything from us, but we counted it as talking with twelve people (not all of them counted for ALB - Abrir La Boca, the number of people we talk with in the street - because some were too young to really choose for themselves, so they can't accept or reject our offer because they'll do what the older people do). But hey, it was notable because it was my first time doing a duodecuple ALB. Elder Cardozo finally conceded that I have the record in the companionship, now. I'm really proud of that.

This week was good.

Con amor de Argentina,

Élder Hill

Fotos:

• Mi remera del equipo de Argentina (aguante Messi)
• Estudiando
• Un resultado de la tormenta de viento de ayer
• Yo enfrente del canal feo; me gusta
• Pte. Panzacchi con nuestras nuevas bicicletas

The touch of God's hand

Family, friends, family of friends, friends of family, friends of family of friends, family of family of friends, friends of family of family, family of friends of family, family of family of family, friends of friends of friends, friends of family of friends of family... and Jacob,

On Thursday this week, something hilarious happened. The Testigos de Jehová knocked our door during our study time. I can only imagine what they thought when they saw two well-dressed young men with name tags come out and greet them amiably. They asked us if we live in that house, and we told them we do (thus, I can be perfectly certain that they will never approach the door of this house ever again, for all eternity), then we just talked about how impressive it is that they work so hard as missionaries, and we parted with good feelings. I especially had good feelings because I was guffawing inside for having received Jehovah's Witnesses at my own door, when they were right in the middle of "enemy territory." It's just so funny to me.

But the day before, I saw a two-fold miracle. We were working in the barrio 8 de Abril, and nobody let us in, as usual (bienvenidos a la misión), and we began to head back south towards barrios Infanta and Aeroparque. But then, I froze, feeling confused, and I just stood there in the street for a minute, not moving or saying anything. I felt distinctly that we were headed in the wrong direction, and the Plaza Municipal came to my mind, farther north. I started walking without explaining anything because I didn't understand what I was doing well enough to explain. Then, on the way, I thought of a man who lives around there who is a member but doesn't attend church, and I began to head toward his house. But here's the catch: I didn't remember where his house was. But I continued on, nonetheless, and we got to the general area of his house. Then I felt other distinct directions that guided me step by step through the streets, and in a moment we miraculously came exactly to his house. After the initial miracle of the first impression, that was the second act of Providence. He let us in, and we talked with him for a while, finding out that he doesn't attend church because he fears the hypocrisy of starting to attend and be good and all that, but then regress and fall away to his anterior situation of sin again. We talked about the faith that he needs, and that he has literally zero chance if he doesn't start somehow. We even related our guide to his house, and told him with power and authority that we were there to tell him God needs him back in church. Sadly, after all those miracles and testimonies that we recounted, in the end he still clung to his fear, accidentally driving out his own faith. He wants us to visit him again this week, but I'm not sure we will because we've visited with him before multiple times, and, despite his immense knowledge of the doctrines, he doesn't have the faith to follow through, and he doesn't progress for that reason. We will probably have to drop him once again. But I suppose I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for one or two more visits. I'm just praying that God helps him in some way, because we can't help him if he doesn't help himself. He even has the goal of being sealed to his wife in the Temple, but if he never leaves behind his fear of failure he will never reach that goal. Ultimately, that visit was an obvious touch of God's hand in his life, but he still hasn't changed because of it. I'll just keep praying, I guess.

But this week really has been a good one. After so many weeks of having no success in any form aside from just talking with the people, we now have five new investigators, which is also a miracle unto itself. We have anywhere from two to six baptisms possible in the near future, and we could also reactivate a few people who no longer attend church, and all that makes me very happy. In short, I am prospering. I am happy to be here, and happy to be alive. This mission is the hardest and most painful thing I've done in my life, but is also easily the most rewarding. I do not regret in any way leaving my comfortable life in gringo-land to come here: I'm finally learning all the things that I always wanted to learn, and I can also now see just how much I don't know that I don't know. I am content.

With so much love,

Élder Hill

Fotos:

• Un baile tradicional del Día de Independencia de Argentina (9 de Julio) que vi en intercambios con Élder Valencia, mi líder de zona, en Pascual Segura
• Élder Hernandez, del grupo de Élder Cardozo, en intercambios en Cementista este jueves pasado
• La cara tonta de Élder Cardozo justo antes que comimos esos ají enfrente. Ese tipo de ají se llama "Puta que te parió", que significa básicamente "The whore that birthed you" - obviamente eso es muy vulgar en cualquier idioma, pero es su nombre, entonces perdón. Y sí, morimos por razón de esos ají; comimos dos cada uno.
• Los Élderes de Cementista
• La Luna
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

Week 1000

Friends and family,

Yesterday I was just thinking extremely randomly about how old I am, and decided to calculate it in weeks. Yesterday was Sunday #1000 in my life, and today exactly I begin week #1001 of life here on Earth. Honestly, the probability of thinking of something so incredibly random exactly on the 1000th Sunday is mind-bogglingly astronomical. But hey, happy 1000 to me! Well, to be perfectly precise, I will come to the exact end of my thousandth week of life at 4:04 this afternoon, Mendoza time (12:04, Phoenix time). Qué tal.

This week was difficult, because we have had no lessons with anybody at all except Lorena (la conversa reciente) and a couple of menos-activos young men. And I also have been uselessly angry with my compañero because he doesn't follow the rules and always tries to prove that he knows more than I do (probably a result of the fact that he can talk better than I can in Spanish). But one night I talked with him about it, and he showed me his side, and my own wall of pride (which had regrown rapidly to an enormous size - hence, my needless anger) began to crumble. As he kept talking, I felt it continue to leave, humbling me unto the dust bit by bit. It was a weird feeling, knowing that my pride was leaving and being grateful for the relief of its exit, but at the same time screaming in my head that I needed him to stop humbling me - the result of the remaining pride. But when he came to the end, I had a moment in which I felt my soul completely empty of pride. That was true rest. It fascinates me how powerful pride is, and it also scares me for the same reason. After that conversation, I went to the other room to pray, and God finally was able to tell me, for my momentary lack of pride, what my purpose is now. We are companions, He says, not because he needs to learn from me, but because I need to learn from him. That really hurts, but that's only because of my pride that has already started to regrow, cauterizing and coating my spirit like normal. After seeing how quickly it regrows, I have come to the realization that my only hope in keeping it at bay is to accept the pain of being an inferior, even while being the senior companion. Why do I need to be put down like this? Because I represent the Savior, who descended below all things, and I have not understood that, yet.

Another thing I have come torealize is the relationship between the scriptures, "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:9), and, "And whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant" (Matthew 20:27). The Up of the heavens is down to us. The only up to us is pride, exalting ourselves against God, which builds in the wrong direction, which is why it is impossible to reach true exaltation in pride. The heavens are higher than the earth, yes, but "higher" does not use the definition from the world, it uses a definition from Heaven. Because of that fact, I have come to a fuller realization that the kingdom of the devil is built on the earth, upright, while the heavens are built upside-down, under all things. On the spiritual plane, the best place to be is the lowest place possible; the more the weight of the "great and spacious building" crushing you in your continued righteousness, the greater the reward. That is a mind-bending concept, but I love it. It has expanded my understanding. Now I just have to relearn how to take the high road by taking the low road.

On Saturday night, we taught the only investigator lesson of the week, with Pedro. It was wonderful, for the first time. He has an annoying tendency to talk about five times more than we ever do in the lessons, so it's difficult to teach him anything, but we tried to teach the Plan of Salvation anyway. While we were teaching, we were about to open to a scripture about the purpose of life (2 Nefi 2:22-25 - clásico), but then he voiced his actual concern: "Who wrote this book?" We explained its origins, that the people were of the house of Israel and were thus included under the covenants of Jehovah (because he has good knowledge of the Bible), but he didn't seem to grasp why it is that we added to the words of God (wow, I definitely don't hear that every. single. day). I explained the misunderstanding of those scriptures with a logical argument, that the fact that that scripture is also found in Deuteronomy means that if that were what it meant the entire remainder of the Bible would be blasphemous addition to the words of God. Even with that, he still didn't understand - I realize that it was because I was using logic to teach a spiritual matter. That only works when we are already in the Spirit, which we weren't in that moment, because I turned to logic first. But then I finally turned to the Spirit, and I found the answer: make him feel the Spirit from the Book of Mormon. I shared 3 Nefi 11:9-17, and as I read the verses myself I felt the Spirit progressively grow. I came to the end, and read, "And when they had all gone forth and had witnessed for themselves, they did cry out with one accord, saying: Hosanna! Blessed be the name of the Most High God! And they did fall down at the feet of Jesus, and did worship him." Then he responded with one word. "Amén."

He continued to explain that he has always been able to relate the scriptures in the Bible to himself very well and personally, and that in that moment the Spirit entered his heart and did the same thing with the Book of Mormon. He told us that the Spirit directly told him that he needs to read it, and at that point we barely even needed to invite him to read it because he was chugging along on his own, according to his own will. That is the first time I have seen such committment to the Book of Mormon in anyone outside the Church; not even Lorena has that desire, and she's already baptized. That was beautiful to see.

I'll just end by saying that I know God lives and moves in this world. That is not just a saying to me. I have come to know of God's existence with surety in every fiber of my being, and I am so honored to be His representative here. I have seen many marvellous things on my mission, but my presence here in the capacity of a servant of the Most High is the greatest miracle of all.

Con muchísimo amor,

Elder Hill

Fotos:

¡Todos mis compañeros en la misma pensión!

Mis homies de Zona Alvear

Otra homie de Zona Alvear

Elder Johnson en la Conferencia de la Misión

Mis homies del CCM

Elder Prosser; es su último traslado

Los circunvecinos

Elder Cardozo, el chabon

Elder Hill, el chabon (#albumcover)

Hoy en un tenedor libre

A man in a funny red sheet

Family and friends,

This week has been rough, especially because on Tuesday morning I awoke with no voice and Elder Cardozo (my compañero now uses the name of his mother) awoke to throw up mucus and blood. Why do all my Argentine companions throw up mucus and blood? It's happened all two times I've had an Argentine compañero. I see a trend. I blame it on the Illuminati. For the rest of the week I regained my voice steadily, and now it's completely returned except for my falsetto. That's acceptable, for now. But I still want my falsetto back.

Elder Cardozo also says that my face looks like that of the robot from the movie I, Robot, and though I've never seen it I can see some resemblance in the pictures. That's a bit weird, but interesting.

For basically this whole week we searched out contacts that said we could pass by and we taught a grand total of one lesson this whole week to investigators, and that one was during intercambios with the zone leaders when we taught Pedro (the Elders Hill doubled up on him in awesomeness - remember one of my zone leaders is Elder Hill, right?), and he's even a very strange case because he has heaps of doubts that are uncommon. So this week has been a bit disappointing in that. But the upside is that I and my companion are learning better how to deal with each other better, especially because we've grown more open, which is a good feeling. Neither of my anterior compañeros have treated me in a way that makes me feel comfortable in opening this much, and I finally feel like I can relax on that front for the first time in my mission. Even just because of that, I feel better than I have in a very long time. Once we've both decided to be open, everything becomes so much easier. I also discovered that a lot of the things he does that annoy me (like laughing constantly and at everything) he does in reaction against the threat of deep sadness at missing his family a lot. Just upon hearing that, I finally managed to stop judging him for it. He's no longer Elder Cargoso, he's just good ol' Elder Cardozo (if you get the pun; if you don't... pobrecito).

But before getting to that agreement with Elder Cardozo to be more open, my week was really bad and stressful because we didn't accomplish anything at all. I know that that's not necessarily my fault, as the other people just didn't want anything and I can't change that, but God in the scriptures has promised us success if we keep all His commandments - that means we haven't been keeping the commandments well enough. That's rough, but the wicked take the truth to be hard, so I guess I'm wicked. But I just get to keep trudging and praying until I finally develop a greater desire to serve the King I love.

I was touched this week by the song "Superman (It's Not Easy)" by Five For Fighting, particularly because of the hard times I just passed through. "It may sound absurd, but don't be naive: even heroes have the right to bleed. I may be disturbed, but won't you concede even heores have the right to dream? And it's not easy to be me... I'm only a man in a funny red sheet, only a man looking for a dream." It's hard to accept that I'm imperfect. I want so much to be better, but it always seems that even just being better at something always sits just barely beyond my reach, taunting me by its joint closeness and inaccessibility. I can see how perfect I could be if I could even just be obedient to my own rules, and it's glorious, but after all my immense imperfection I'm just a man in a funny red sheet. But I'm learning step by step, line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little; and I know that blessed are they that hearkened to God's precepts (see 2 Nephi 28:30). That is my only hope: patience. That's almost as hard to develop as the rest of my problems are to overcome, but that is my lot in this life. I will try to bear it with the grace of God.

Yesterday I had a thought that is very powerful about being spiritually independent. I discovered fully the fact that spiritual independence is no figure of speech. Even the extreme case I thought of is relevant and true: if everyone else in the world, in all of history, were destined for Hell, would YOU still choose to come to Christ? Because even if none will be saved, God wins, because He is Justice, and they would be cast out by that Justice; obviously, He would not be happy with that result, but it would be "success" according to the laws of justice. The Truth, thus, exists outside our reach, and we cannot ever have any power to change the it. We only have power to accept or reject it, and that has to be independent of everything, just as the Truth is independent of everything, and as the Owner of the Truth is independent of all. Do you think God got to be God by relying on some mortal? Obviously not. So we should not, either. The question becomes this: do you choose Him in spite of all others, or because of them? That is what I am trying to develop for myself, especially because I have seen so many members who no longer attend church meetings because they're offended by the actions of someone. There are some people I've met who stopped going to church because not enough people greeted them. I literally cannot think of a more stupid excuse than that. I refuse to be that way. I will follow God in spite of all others, not because of them. I will be a real Superman in the end, not just a man in a silly red sheet.

Please remember that I love you all immensely, and I am grateful for all your support from over there in gringo-landia. I miss you all. Que Dios esté con vosotros.

Mucho amor,

Élder Hill

Fotos:

• Élder Aguirre (Cardozo) está en la carcel de nuestro mapa
• Sándwiches gigantes
• Yo y Élder Cardozo