Missionary Monday

Hello sweet JD,

I miss your kind smile. I miss your honest voice. I miss your quirky moves. I miss you. But that's not why I'm writing this letter. I'm writing to tell you how proud I am of you, and how much I love you. I love that you are on a mission. I love that you are working so hard to help others feel the light and love of Christ in their lives. I love that you have this opportunity, and I am so proud of you. I'm sorry that I've been MIA for a couple of weeks. To be honest, because of the 24th holiday last week I plum forgot that it was writing day. The husband and I spent a couple of nights in Spork, in your old room in fact. Your "true religion" body wash is still in the shower, and I had to giggle as I thought of you in Texas preaching about the true religion. I don't know why it seemed kind of funny and ironic at the time.

The weekend at home with the family was a lot of fun. We helped Bambi's family move, BBQd, laughed and played cards with the family, sang with Allerina in church, cried when the parents gave their talks in church, took naps, took Atrain for a ride in the beamer to watch fireworks, chided dad for buying Allerina a motorcycle, and shot guns. Yes, that's right, dad took me shooting. I expressed an interest when the Hawaina family was over and we were talking about concealed weapons permits. As you know, I've always been somewhat scared of guns. I don't really like them, and holding the power to kill in the palm of my hand just doesn't settle well with me. But, that also may be just because I don't know how to handle a gun. When you don't know a lot about something (or someone for that matter) it's easy to be afraid. So, dad suggested that we go out to Goshen to shoot. And, shoot we did. I wasn't a bad aim, either. It was an educational experience, and somewhat thrilling. I can see why people like to "go shooting." But I think it will take a lot more practice for me to be comfortable handling such a powerful weapon. That's probably a good thing.

A super funny thing happened when we were playing outside in the water with the kiddos on Saturday night. Allerina and I got into a water brawl. That is to say, she wrestled me into a kiddie pool of water--right after she squirted poor Atrain right up the nose with the hose--directly following my immediate warning not to listen to our little devil of a dad tempting her to do it--but not before I dunked her sorry face in the pool first--all the while dad leaned back into his comping chair chuckling at the scnene he had orchestrated. And, then there was poor Atrain, who misinterpreted our sissy screams and giggling grunts as a real live family feud. He stood in the adjacent pool with tears streaming down his face, squiring the hose at Allerina and Amber (who had joined in) with all his might. I probably did more damage to the kid trying to defend him than Allerina did squirting him in the face int he first place. As soon as I saw his dismay the ruckus came to a screeching halt and we all cracked into a thunder of laughs. After a few explanations and a salty cookie trick to get back at mean Allerina, Atrain was as good as new. If only Allerina were still the small, brave little girl who used to run away from home in her pooh suit. Then again, I guess not much has changed--expect that now she drives a motorcycle.

Well, I'm preparing for my lesson next Sunday. Thank you so much for your input. I'm really excited about the member missionary topic and focusing on coming up with a plan to answer questions about the gospel. Because of things said in my patriarchal blessing I was always under the impression that I would serve a mission. I know that I still will, but I want to be doing all that I can now to be a good missionary. I'm excited about the mormon profile suggestion you gave me. And, I contacted the sister missionaries serving in our stake so that I can meet with them and get their input. I think I will also hand out a book of mormon to all of the sisters and challenge them to give it to someone in their lives. But first, I am going to do that this week. I can't preach missionary work if I don't practice it. It is a hard thing for me because I have so much respect for the friends that I have that are not members. I don't want them to get the impression that I think they are sinners, or whatever. Some of the most incredible people I associate with are not members. And I have a great desire to share the thing in my life that is most special, most sacred--that saves me from my own sins and sorrows: the gospel of Jesus Christ. Pray to help me have the courage to invite others to the true gospel of Jesus Christ. I'll pray for you to do the same. Don't be shy to share your talents on the doorstep, brother. It may seem silly, but a guitar may help you open a few more doors and hearts that would otherwise be closed. :)

I sure love you and am proud of you. I'm excited about your 20th birthday. I hope you like the gift I'm sending your way.

Love always,

MJ

PS> Atrain called me to repentance yesterday. Not kidding. After church we were sitting in his room and he looked me strait in the eye and said, "You need to repent." I was a little astonished, and then tried to hold back my laughter as I queried, "Why do I need to repent?" He wore a serious expression and said in a somber tone, "Because of when you did this with winked eyes." He then proceeded to glare at me and shake his finger. I did my best to take the situation seriously. I assumed that he was referring to the moment when he was in the bathtub, refusing to get out, and all I'm left to do (without the ability to communicate with words) is exaggerated my expressions to show him he needs to obey his mother. I never knew he took me so seriously. "Ok, Atrain," I said, "I'm sorry. I will repent. I won't shake my finger at you if you promise to obey me the first time." And that was that. What a great missionary he will make some day.

Super 8

Today was the baptism of my 8 year old nephew, Shmibbers. It was also his eighth birthday—the age of accountability. So many thoughts flooded into my mind as I watched this sweet boy make such big promises to God. Eight is such a tender age to covenant that you are willing to serve God and keep His commandments, bear one another’s burdens, and stand as a witness of God at all times and in all things, and in all places. Yet there was Shmibbers: so sweet, so smart, so willing, and so full of love.

I was just eight when I made the same promises. I remember my excitement—how much I looked forward to making covenants with God, how much my father and I practiced the immersion dunk (sans water) in our living room, and how much I wanted to be perfect. I remember my white dress, my fluffed bangs, my family smiling down at me in the baptismal font, my father’s strong hands that held mine—how large they looked around my tiny wrists, the warmth of the water rushing over my face, and the feeling of peace that wrapped around me when I surfaced. I smiled, hugged my father, and turned to see my mother there at the stairs, smiling and crying as she waited for me in the dressing room.

I know a lot more now than I did then: about my faith, about my church, about my worldview, and about this life—but I knew then just as much as I know now that God loves me. He trusts me now, as much as he trusted me then to keep the promises I made. “I am a Child of God,” was scripted on the necklace my great aunt Cat gave me that day. I am still such a child. I am so far from perfect—so much further than I was when I was baptized. But I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep taking the sacrament every week to repent and renew my promises with God. And as I do, I know that He keeps His end of the bargain. I love how clean, new and motivated I feel when I remember that this is all that life is really about anyway. Thanks for the reminder, Shmibbers, and happy birthday.

Missionary Monday

Hello Brother,

I hope that you are doing well. I sure love you, and I'm so proud of you. It's been a busy couple of weeks in my little family. I've been doing a lot and learning a lot. And, yes, I talked to your mission president. It was more by accident than anything. We wanted to see where you had been transferred to and get your package address. I thought that I was calling the mission home, but nope. When the phone was picked up on the other end the voice said, "Hello, this is President Jones." I was a little stunned, and apologized for calling his personal number by accident, but went on with my original question anyhow. He was very nice. It was fun to listen to his voice and wonder how he sounds as a mission president.

I actually also emailed him, but for a totally different reason. When I was just a few hours away from you in Texas I wanted to come see your sweet face. We thought that it would possibly be a good idea to go to church in the ward you are serving in. But I guess it wasn't such a great idea, after all. President Jones relayed the official mission rule (in a very strait forward, matter of fact way...seems like a good, by-the-book kind of guy), and after hearing that missionaries are not allowed to have visitors from home, it really made sense in my mind and heart. I'm sure it would be quite distracting to have a visit from your sister and her family. And, I wouldn't want to do anything that would make your mission any harder, or make you long for home any more. It was hard, though, showing up to church on my last Sunday in Texas and seeing the missionaries in the ward there, knowing that I could have been seeing you. But it was for the better, I'm sure.

So...life. It's been kind of interesting lately. I have had a few experiences that have challenged and helped me build my testimony. In my Patriarchal blessing I'm told that my testimony will be challenged as I go through life and that I will face obstacles--but it also says that I will make the correct choices and that I will be courageous in my pursuit of excellence. It was sweet to reread that after this experience. I have a friend from high school who has fallen away from the church. So sad. It has made me do a lot of thinking about my own testimony and which areas need to be stronger. Then, while in Texas I had an interesting conversation with a mechanic (our car broke down while we were there) who asked me point blank, "What is the difference between your church and my church." Elder, I stumbled in my response. I mean, I did my best to tell him about the Book of Mormon and the restoration of the gospel through Joseph Smith, but I was so unpracticed and rather unprepared. When it came to telling someone who has no knowledge about the church and its beginnings, I felt so unsure of my words. Right then and there, I wished that I had served a mission. I would have known exactly what to say. But I didn't.

After thinking a lot about that moment, I came to the conclusion that I need to work of a few things. I need to have a game plan for when that question comes at me again. I don't want to fumble that opportunity (though dad believes positive things probably came from that interaction). I need to gain a stronger testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith, and practice sharing it with others. Not that I don't have a testimony of the Prophet, I do--I know he was called by God to restore the fullness of Christ's gospel in these latter days--but I need more confidence and practice sharing it. I read a conference talk that was given by a convert from Brazil who read the history of the Joseph Smith that is included in the scriptures and prayed about its truthfulness. Thus far, that has been a great experience for me. For members of the church like me--the "average Jane"--who haven't served a formal mission for the church yet, and was baptized when they turned eight years old, I think it's good that I had a moment like this. It helped me realize what I need to do to be a better "member missionary." And, I'm excited to work on it.

This weekend was Gavin Aina's baptism. It was a very sweet moment for me to watch this young boy make those big promises, especially considering the thoughts that have been flying through my mind lately. I cried as I watched him be immersed in the water. I felt the spirit so strongly, telling me that the promises I made with God are real. They are still intact. And, that I always need to work to keep my testimony growing. Sure, I was baptized at eight years old and perhaps I didn't understand the incredible promises that were made at that point in my life, but I think that knowing, understanding and sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ will be a lifetime pursuit. I know that this is God's church and that Christ is at the head of it, instructing our latter-day prophet to help me navigate this life, and make something more of me than I could ever make of myself.

Well, brother, I must go. The babes are waking. They sure love you. I'll leave you with a funny story from my blog about the weekend that I know you will enjoy.

Love,
MJ

Little Miracles

There were a lot of moments this week that were honest, undeniable gifts from God. They came at a time when I really needed to see them—when I was praying for them: those assurances that He is watching you, and watching out for you:

· When my Dad mysteriously showed up behind me as I was walking into the church building for my cousin’s baptism. I was carrying both boys in my arms, holding tight to both of them, but also telling an (just awoken from his nap) ornery Aaron that he had to let go as soon as we got to the church’s door because mommy’s load was getting heavy. Then my dad came up behind me and took Aaron in his arms and said, “let me help you.” I was almost shocked, “How did you know I was here? And that I needed help?” I asked. He replied, “Mom told me to come find you. She felt like you needed help.”

· When the husband texted to tell me that he loves me right after Atrain had a minor meltdown. I hate it when he hits me. I try not to take it personal because he is only three, after all, but I always need a good reminder that someone loves me after moments like that.

· When we sang, “Because I Have Been Given Much” in church and I felt the Spirit bare witness of all the good gifts God has given me in my life. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I thought of my family, my friends, my good life and my desire to give all that I am and can be to God.

· Whenever baby J looked up at me from his crawl stance with his big two bottom-toothed grin, so proud of himself. I’m so proud of him too. I can’t believe he has two teeth, and that he’s already trying to crawl. This weekend I couldn’t help but be completely astonished by his patience whenever his attempts to move forward wobbled into a dive for the floor. That happens to me a lot too. I’m lucky to have a little sweet six month old to remind me about what it means to have patience. “In your patience possess ye your souls,” Luke 21:19.

· My sister Bambie’s birthday party and learning from her selfless approach to life.

· Listening to a conference talk by Claudio M. Costa about the Prophet Joseph Smith and feeling the desire to read Joseph Smith History.

· When I watched my little cousin go under the waters of baptism. It was so sweet. So pure—the promises he was making to God at such a young age. Eight years old seems so young to understand what a great commitment you are making. And yet, it is an inspired commitment that needs to be made continually after you enter the waters of baptism, an inspired way of life.