Week 43: Strugglings of a New Testimony, Written on My Heart

(I feel pretty poetic writing this. This is blog-worthy, or so I belive:)

  It´s nothing easy. A word of sincere caution from a mother with doubts of your new beliefs keeps you from church. The lack of food in your house on Sunday, sending you on a search. The rain. It´s not that you don´t want to go--it´s the strugglings of a new testimony. As the two deacons come walking in the dirt road--white shirts, ties, dress pants--they are the history of His Church in the making. We´re a house, overpacked to capacity, all 80 of us crammed into one room like sardines. This is the beginning of a story. Of memories. Those two deacons with white shirts, ties, and dress pants will, in a few short years, move from this dirt road, from passing the Holy Sacrament in this humble house, and will walk down another dirt road, in another part of hte world, in another chapel, and will be passing out another Holy gift--the Book of Mormon. Out they´ll go, white shirts, ties, black pants, but now with a black name tag bearing His name. Representing Him, His Church. Out to save those with a struggling new testimony. And that convert with that struggling new testimony will become the young men´s leader, the young women´s leader. Will help that deacon with a struggling new testimony prepare to leave this dirt road, to add a black name tag to the white shirt, tie, and black dress pants.

And so we go.

Humble beginning. Strugglings of a new testimony. 

Protect that testimony you have, even and especially if it be a struggling, new one.

Wasn´t that a little poetic? I´m working on that. :)

In this change, I became senior companion. It frets me. I want to be so perfect, so good. A good leader. I realized that the senior companion is the most important, because if I fall, the district, zone, and mission falls likewise. It´s like the family. (Oh, I just have a lovecrush on the family now!). The most basic unit. If IT fails, the Church, world, society, eternities fall. Senior companion is like the daddy of the house. He leads. Gives accountability to our Heavenly Father. I feel like, to some degree, this is how men feel about leading a home. I realize how great of a responsibility the family is. It took me 

22 years,

10 months, 

8 companions, 

4 areas, 

10 pounds, 

25-some-Clara-inspiring letters, 

40-ish-diligent weekly emails from mom, dad, Adrienne, Melissa, 

2 blistered & calloused feet, 

1 softened, grateful, brimming heart. 

And I get it like I never GOT it. 

This mission is not a fight to get people baptized. It´s a vision. 

As I was praying Tuesday night, I was thinking about Bessy, an investigator that we have. She´s a 16-year-old who just had a baby, and they got married on Friday and she is going to be baptized in the first part of May. I was thinking about her. Does she understand this covenant she´s making with God? Does she get it?

Then I thought.... 

Do I?

22 years and I´m still scratching the surface of understanding. It passes all my understanding. 22 years of fighting to do things my way, which isn´t the best way. And now, I´m learning like I´ve never learned to succumb my desires, wishes, dreams to His. 

As we were watching a movie of the Restoration, an important lesson came to mind: answers come from questions. What would have happened if Joseph Smith never prayed in the grove of trees to know which church is true?

There´d be no First Vision.

No heavens opened.

No keys of the Priesthood restored.

For me, when I want answers, I need to have the questions. Miracles of this week: I backed up all my pictures on a hard drive I bought. The hard drive crashed, and I can´t access any of the files. About the time the hard drive crashed, I lost all my SD cards in the office. I was devastated as I realized I´ll have NO photos. I prayed and prayed Saturday night that they could be found. Then today, we went to go have lunch with the President (because our zone had the most baptisms--CELESTIAL ZONE!!!) and what do you know? The senior couple, the John´s, found my SD cards. 

One question asked. 

One prayer answered. 

Or that Carla, an investigator in my old area, could go to church Sunday. What do you know? She went for the FIRST TIME. 

One question asked. 

One prayer answered.

I have overcome a great fault I had in the mission until now. I hesitate to baptize, because I can´t bear the thought of them going inactive. That´s like saying I´ll never plant another (well, for me any seed would be my first) seed ever again because I hate when seeds die. Or never listen to music again because I can´t bear when the song ends. Or being afraid to get married because I´m afraid it won´t last past differences or we´ll become bored. (that´s not familiar, what?). 

I need to have FAITH. 

Faith that He can change their hearts. Faith that the plant will grow if I water it & give it light. Faith that there is always a song to be sung. Faith that marriages last, despite whatever differences and difficulties come. every little aspect of life is a matter of faith. 

The things written, engraven on the depths of my heart range from memories to faces to the breeze during a cool hour to the wet sweat that I feel like will never leave my forehead, especially between the hours of 2-4. These things include being prepared for ANYTHING, from answering questions of anti-Christs to music & dancing to worlds without out. To profetesses. To authority of Christ. To realizing with great joy that the Restored Gospel has an answer to EVERY. SINGLE. QUESTION. Fills EVERY gap, EVERY unanswered question. That we don´t have to wonder. To teaching the Plan of Salvation without a single DOUBT that we literally (not figuratively) lived with Him before this life. To the sincerity in José´s eyes as he asks how we know we´re right, that we´re not as lost as every other of the million churches in the world. 

The things written on my heart include eternal gratitude to inspiring leaders & missionaries who have become eternal friends.