Family and friends,
This week
was an interesting experience, with one down but a few distinct ups. To
start, I'll say that I am extremely happy finally to have received my
custom leather scripture tote that I ordered from Chile in February! The
world fell apart right after I ordered it, and then I switched
continents and missions, but it finally got to me!!! I am very pleased
with the result. See the attached picture. I also ordered a couple of
keychains.
We were told
that Zone Council would be starting at noon on Friday, instead of 10:30,
as we were previously told. That would conflict with service many
people in the zone were going to do at 1:00, volunteering at a food
bank, so we brought that up, saying many people would be busy at that
time, so we should change the scheduling back to what it was before.
Nobody paid attention. No matter how many times I asked, nobody answered
my questions of why we couldn't change the scheduling, and everybody
else in the whole chat just told us to stop worrying and cancel the
service as we were told to. It advanced to the point where I was
thoroughly frustrated AND it seemed extremely sketchy because for some
reason nobody wanted to tell us why we had to cancel completely about
twenty man-hours of service in the zone just to have Zone Council at a
different time. Honestly, I would have been perfectly fine if the Zone
Leaders had simply said, "It's a secret; we're not going to tell you."
That would have given it closure in my mind. But instead what I got was
just more confusion and people just telling me to be quiet. After hours
of that frustrating situation, the Zone Leaders FINALLY called us and
just said that someone else in the zone had service at 10:30
(specifically the Assistants to the President, so of course they can't
butt into THEIR stuff but they can certainly interfere with ours and
that of multiple other companionships), and that answer satisfied me. In
short, until that point I felt exactly like I did in Argentina when we
were all sequestered in our apartments and the mission offices never
told us anything at all, ever, even when we asked specifically. But at
least there they were trying to stop rumors (which obviously doesn't
work like that, but at least they had a reason), whereas here there was
no reason at all to keep it hidden, it was simply that nobody would
even tell me why I couldn't know. That is the thing that bothers me the
easiest of anything: pointed and ridiculous lack of communication.
But
then, after being angry about that foolishness for so long, I finally
had a piercing thought fill my mind. "How can I expect to make it to
'seventy times seven' if I can't even make it to one?" Isn't that the
whole message of the Gospel, that there is forgiveness in the world? Who
am I to stand in the way of that forgiveness? In forgiving others, we
show our love for them - and for God, who first loved us. Frankly, I'm
still bothered by what everyone else did, even today, but that thought
took me out of my self-righteous thoughts and justification and now I am
truly working towards forgiving everyone, just as I talked about in my
last letter. God has a way of testing us right when we think we know
what we're doing, and I am seeing my faults more clearly again. I'll get back
to cleaning myself up, I guess.
Then,
on Friday night, we had a lesson with Nayeli, Miguel, and Eva, who are
feeling the Spirit very strongly every time we come. Elder Stout had
commented a couple of times, but was mostly quiet due to his
inexperience in Spanish. But at the end of the lesson, he testified of
Christ, for which he knows much of the vocabulary well, and though it
came out stammered as usual, it was touching. Then I felt the Spirit
come over me, and I was moved to say something I had never even thought
to say for my whole two years serving. "I hope that his lack of
vocabulary does not deceive you, because he knows what he's talking
about - I live with him, I see him every day, and I know he knows it."
As I said that, I choked up, nearly crying as I said it, and the room
was flooded with the Spirit. For some reason, it had never occurred to
me that I could testify about my companion's testimony directly, and not
only about the doctrines of which he spoke. That was amazing, and I
could see all their eyes glimmering in that moment.
Now,
the next miracle, easily the most massive of the entire month, if not
for my entire time in Nebraska. I have still been meeting with Jim Jones (name changed) from Lincoln, because he needs so much support in his mental
illness; he had not, however, done anything legitimate on his own part
to help himself, but only ever turned to the missionaries, expecting
"Mormonism" to solve his problems. He passed through many hard times
when he saw no point in continuing in religion, and he just wanted to
leave the Church, but he made it through barely and made it to this
week. Despite all our urging for him to seek professional help - as well
as periodically rebuking him powerfully by the Spirit for not doing it -
he never did so, expecting God to save him in only the way he wanted:
religion. Then at about 00:30 on Wednesday, he sent me a message with a
classic depressed tone, saying everything was hopeless, etc. When I saw
it in the morning, I felt to say, "Jim, you're right, it is hopeless,
but only because you're not seeking professional help." He fell silent.
That was common, though, so I thought no more of it. But then, ALSO on
Friday night (miraculous day, lemme tell ya), he messaged me and said he
got medical help, and wanted to meet with us again. When we talked with
him, I was completely boquiabierto. He was sane. He was SANE. JIM JONES WAS SANE. That was a new experience for me. On bad days in the
past, he was a lost cause; even on his good days in the past, you could
just feel that his mind was still very broken. One day, he pointed the
camera at an empty chair behind him to try to show me the person who was
haunting him that day. That's how bad it was. But Friday night, for the
first time ever, I saw a spark of life in him, and I felt like his
brain was inside his skull - I was talking with a real person, not a
messy conglomerate of firing neurons. He was alive. I could cry for
happiness. Jim is alive. I've been with him from the beginning of my
time in Nebraska, since May, and never did he show any sign of
improvement... until now. When he finally decided to do what we were
telling him all along. Oh, goodness, God be praised. My anxiety for him
can rest.
That
leads very well into my last thought: God is my only power for good. I
had a revelation after reading a powerful talk last night that my
seeming humility has mostly only been external, because I have kept a
hold on my own pride. I still think I can do things by myself. Of
course, I can, and I have, but the reason I'm not better than I am is
that I have not given myself over to the Maker for Him to remodel me. I
have been growing my faith to higher levels, and I have come out
triumphant over some important decisions, but now the time has come for
me to have the faith to stop fighting, stop kicking against the pricks.
God has cared for me perfectly for all these twenty years I have lived:
how can I still doubt? The spirit is willing, but the flesh is so very
weak. Instead of only taking good steps when faced with a decision, I
need to learn now to seek out and take good steps always, constantly,
and diligently. My next spiritual step will be true, real humility.
To
sum up my week, I will say simply that God is good to me beyond
comprehension. He as blessed me immensely, and I pray I can have the
humility soon to praise Him as He deserves.
Love,
Elder Hill the Elder
Fotos:
un servicio en el almacén, cuando realmente queremos los frijoles pero
los otros Élderes tienen el abrelatas, cuando Élder Stout está loco y
come solamente carne molida con queso, y ¡MI FUNDA DE ESCRITURAS LLEGÓ!
No comments:
Post a Comment