Week 27: Independence Day
Dear Loved Ones,
I've had a weird relationship with holidays the last three years. Back when I thought I was in control of when I went on a mission and international missions were a possibility, I thought of putting my availability date after the Fourth of July so I could have one last Fourth in America before missing two of them.
Then I got rejected. Every holiday was a painful reminder that I was still here for another year. I loved Valentine's Day because it was the first holiday where I didn't have to deal with rejection anymore. And now I've had an Independence Day! That's my favorite holiday.
The morning of, I felt like I was missing out on a holiday because I couldn't set off fireworks or blast my favorite patriotic music. But I ended up making a day of it. We had a church breakfast where they were using flags as centerpieces and my mind immediately went, "Ooh, tracting giveaway!" So I grabbed all of them before they could get discarded. Later, we were driving to a contact attempt and passed a big crowd on a golf course getting ready to watch fireworks. Hundreds of people sitting around doing nothing. It's a missionary dream! I convinced my companion to go contacting there.
I offered everyone free flags, and when they took one, read them Ether 2:12, a scripture about America. I gave away all my flags and one Book of Mormon that way. I wish I'd known about this event sooner. I would've come an hour earlier with fifty flags. There are times that serving a stateside mission gets me down-not because I think stateside missions are inferior to the international, but because the whole world was never open to me. I know how to do math. Because my permanent mission immediately followed my two-transfer mission, there was no time to apply for and receive a visa. I don't know for sure if former two-transfer missionaries are ever allowed to go international, but I believe it's rare. Also, the transfer schedule of the two missions have to sync up, so even within the United States, I believe there was a limited number of places I could go. I am not disheartened to be serving here. I am disheartened that the whole world was never open to me.
But there are times when I feel that I am in the best mission, the most important one. THIS country is God's Promised Land, and within the United States, Independence is the chosen place for the Second Coming. I was given a call to prepare Zion for the Second Coming.
We left the golf course just in time to miss the fireworks everyone was there to watch and I prayed in the car that I'd be able to see some on the wa home. As we pulled into the parking lot, the golf course fireworks finally went off and we stood out on the sidewalk watching them. It was a beautiful moment and the Fourth was definitely the best day I've had in Kansas so far. This week also marks another milestone: as of this week, I have officially been in Kansas longer than Idaho.
I also saw Fia that day. She has been trying to have a child and her pregnancy test came back negative. I cobbled together a litle treat for her out of whatever I could find in our apartment (vanilla ice cream, brownies, Butterfinger, a stray mason jar, and some of the centerpiece decorations) and dropped by for what was more a comfort visit than a lesson. I don't really feel a pressing need to turn everything into a lesson. I think a lot about the missionaries who tracted into me in Provo back in 2016 just when I'd been praying for comfort on a day when the weight of being barred from serving was too much to bear alone. They heard me out, but then when I couldn't give them a referral for people they could teach, they left me. Missionaries ought to be service-minded and compassion-minded more than mission-minded. Fia has survived some dark and terrible things in her life and I will be there for whether she's having a teachable day or not.
I did teach her one thing, in between giving her ice cream and painting her nails. I read her Jeremiah 1:5 about the pre-mortal life and told her that this child she wants so desparately isn't just an idea or a wish. If she's meant to have a child, he or she is a real person who already exists in spirit form looking down on her. She was excited and moved almost to the point of tears.
There is beauty in the gospel. And after so many years of being barred, I get to share it.
I've had a weird relationship with holidays the last three years. Back when I thought I was in control of when I went on a mission and international missions were a possibility, I thought of putting my availability date after the Fourth of July so I could have one last Fourth in America before missing two of them.
Then I got rejected. Every holiday was a painful reminder that I was still here for another year. I loved Valentine's Day because it was the first holiday where I didn't have to deal with rejection anymore. And now I've had an Independence Day! That's my favorite holiday.
The morning of, I felt like I was missing out on a holiday because I couldn't set off fireworks or blast my favorite patriotic music. But I ended up making a day of it. We had a church breakfast where they were using flags as centerpieces and my mind immediately went, "Ooh, tracting giveaway!" So I grabbed all of them before they could get discarded. Later, we were driving to a contact attempt and passed a big crowd on a golf course getting ready to watch fireworks. Hundreds of people sitting around doing nothing. It's a missionary dream! I convinced my companion to go contacting there. 
I offered everyone free flags, and when they took one, read them Ether 2:12, a scripture about America. I gave away all my flags and one Book of Mormon that way. I wish I'd known about this event sooner. I would've come an hour earlier with fifty flags. There are times that serving a stateside mission gets me down-not because I think stateside missions are inferior to the international, but because the whole world was never open to me. I know how to do math. Because my permanent mission immediately followed my two-transfer mission, there was no time to apply for and receive a visa. I don't know for sure if former two-transfer missionaries are ever allowed to go international, but I believe it's rare. Also, the transfer schedule of the two missions have to sync up, so even within the United States, I believe there was a limited number of places I could go. I am not disheartened to be serving here. I am disheartened that the whole world was never open to me. But there are times when I feel that I am in the best mission, the most important one. THIS country is God's Promised Land, and within the United States, Independence is the chosen place for the Second Coming. I was given a call to prepare Zion for the Second Coming.
We left the golf course just in time to miss the fireworks everyone was there to watch and I prayed in the car that I'd be able to see some on the wa home. As we pulled into the parking lot, the golf course fireworks finally went off and we stood out on the sidewalk watching them. It was a beautiful moment and the Fourth was definitely the best day I've had in Kansas so far. This week also marks another milestone: as of this week, I have officially been in Kansas longer than Idaho.
I also saw Fia that day. She has been trying to have a child and her pregnancy test came back negative. I cobbled together a litle treat for her out of whatever I could find in our apartment (vanilla ice cream, brownies, Butterfinger, a stray mason jar, and some of the centerpiece decorations) and dropped by for what was more a comfort visit than a lesson. I don't really feel a pressing need to turn everything into a lesson. I think a lot about the missionaries who tracted into me in Provo back in 2016 just when I'd been praying for comfort on a day when the weight of being barred from serving was too much to bear alone. They heard me out, but then when I couldn't give them a referral for people they could teach, they left me. Missionaries ought to be service-minded and compassion-minded more than mission-minded. Fia has survived some dark and terrible things in her life and I will be there for whether she's having a teachable day or not.I did teach her one thing, in between giving her ice cream and painting her nails. I read her Jeremiah 1:5 about the pre-mortal life and told her that this child she wants so desparately isn't just an idea or a wish. If she's meant to have a child, he or she is a real person who already exists in spirit form looking down on her. She was excited and moved almost to the point of tears.
There is beauty in the gospel. And after so many years of being barred, I get to share it.
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