Work and Play

Our president is pushing us to knock big houses. This one was just
like the house-mansions we saw in Rhode Island. It was big. And there
was a big iron gate around it. Hna. Stanford and I looked at the
house, looked at each other and said, "well, we are brave when we
knock big houses." So we said a prayer, got out of the car, and went
to open the gate. But it didn't open, there was no way through the
gate, and everything was dark inside the house....but it's ok, because, according to

Preach My Gospel: "Your success as a missionary is measured primarily

by your commitment to find, teach, baptize, and confirm people,"

 it is not measured by baptisms or how many lessons we teach.

 



 

Play: We went to a Nationals baseball game! (I've attached a picture). We were allowed to go because the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints helped with a week of service event and this was our thank-you for it. Hma. Stanford and I rode the metro, and I still have "Metro moments" when I get dizzy. The Nationals won, 11-0, against the Phillies, in case anyone wanted to know. But, the good part is on the way home.

 

Work: Our mission president asked everyone in the mission to make it a productive evening by placing a Book of Mormon with someone who said they'd read it. We call this a "Book of Mormon blitz." So, the car we were in on the way home was like a twinky; There were elders (in their white shirts) standing in the center aisle of the car, teaching the people (with their red, National fan shirts) sitting in the seats on the edges of the car. Hna. Stanford talked to a lady we were sitting next to and she gave her a Book of Mormon (thanks to the nice English elders. We only had a Spanish one!).

 

As for me, I thought to myself, "How in the world are we going to place our Spanish Libro de Mormon?" because I really wanted to. Well, in comes a Hispanic man who sits across from us. One of the English elders tries to talk to him, but the language barrier gets in the way, and the conversation quickly dies. I can see the curiosity in the man's eyes of this twinky of a car and our black nametags and I knew I could speak his language and I could give him a Libro de Mormon if I just went over and talked to him......I didn't. It took 4 stops for me to work up my courage enough to go over and talk to him and at the moment I was ready to go over and say, "Hola! Como esta," he got off the metro....Dang it! I was so...humiliated, to say the least. 

 

I give this as a bad example of how to do missionary work. The best thing to do is to just do it. Just abrir su boca y hablar. Just open your mouth and speak. I learned that this weekend. The hard way.

 

Hna. Stanford and I made it home safe at 12:30 at night.

 

Also, we had a confrence where President Riggs had us rip one of our shirts to pledge our consecration to the missionary work, just like Captain Moroni did with the people in his country. It was a very powerful experience.

 

The work goes on (intermingled with play) and life is good.