Blog Conclusion

Serving in the snow on Sakhalin Island.

           This project has been challenging in some ways, but has had great benefits.

            It has been frustrating to me that the project seemed to constantly be evolving.  We started off knowing we need to make a blog and follow five other blogs.  About half way through we found out that we needed to have five followers.  Some people had well over five followers, while others had well under five.  This put the under-followed people in an awkward position of having to ask classmates, who were already following five blogs, to follow their blog also.  At the end of the semester it was implied that a lack of pictures would be detrimental to one's grade.  This evolutionary aspect of the project was really frustrating to me.

            On a positive note, writing this blog has helped me personally.  I dedicated this blog to my younger brother, who recently got his mission call to the Scotland/Ireland Mission.  I wanted to share some missionary experiences and lessons I had learned that I wish I had known at the start of my mission.  At times I have struggled with feelings that I wasn’t a good enough missionary, or that I wasn’t successful enough as a missionary (my efforts were wasted).  Writing this blog has given me an opportunity to reflect on my mission.  Ponder experiences that I have had, lessons I learned, people I helped, and miracles that I saw.  Doing this has helped me to believe that maybe I wasn’t such a failure after all.
            It has also been really cool to read other people's blogs!  I've learned fun things about my class mates that I'm sure I wouldn't have known otherwise.  It has been especially cool to see spiritual sides of people that I haven't seen in class.  

One of my most treasured missionary moments.

            So while there have been frustrating aspects of this project, in the end I think it has really helped me personally, and it has been cool to get to know people in the class better. 
            My intended audience was my younger brother and those about to serve missions, as stated under the blog title.  The required blogs are "Confidently Humble," "The Ethos of Elder Cook," "World of Research," "Ultimate Bonding," and this post.  I would recommend for you "Conquering Doubt With the Shield of Faith," and "Spiritual Insights From Ultimate Frisbee" because they talk about things that have happened this semester, but you can feel free to read any post you want.  If you know anyone that could benefit from anything on my blog, please feel free to use or share any part you want.

Spiritual Insights From Ultimate Frisbee?

            Over Thanksgiving break I had a spiritual experience playing Ultimate Frisbee that is totally relevant to missionaries, and I want to share it as my last post (besides my conclusion). 

ultimatefrisbeefan.com

            During the very first play of our second game of Frisbee, my team had the disk, and we were moving aggressively up the field.  I threw a perfect forehand pass to a young guy on my team, but unfortunately he dropped it.  He apologized for the drop, and I told him not to worry about it. 

Later that game, this young player and I charged up the field on defense to cover the first passes of our opponents.  I covered the thrower tightly.  He threw in sideways across the field to try to get it to a more open thrower, but my young teammate knocked it out of the air.  Quickly he darted into the end zone.  I scooped up the Frisbee.  The defender on the young man was covering him like butter on toast.  Suddenly the young man cut right.  He got just a half step a head of his defender.  I shot him a forehand with laser precision, which he caught gloriously.  When I congratulated him in the end zone, to my surprise he said, “Thank you for trusting me with that.”

After a moment of bewilderment, I realized that he must have been referring to his drop about an hour ago.  When I picked up the disk, the fact that he had dropped a pass earlier never even crossed my mind.  All I thought was, “He just made a great defensive stop.  I want him to get this touch down!” 

At that moment I realized that this situation was similar to repentance.  In life we all make mistakes.  It is our job to repent, and have faith that the Lord will forgive us.  In life, and especially as a missionary, Satan tries to make you doubt the Lord’s mercy.  He goes for everything from old sins that have been repented of and resolved with priesthood authority, to small, current imperfections you are striving whole-heartedly to overcome.  He tries to make you believe that you can’t be forgiven and will never be worthy of the Holy Ghost.  These lies, if believed, can be totally debilitating for missionaries.

My Mission President taught me that the Lord forgives us long before we forgive ourselves.  I am so grateful for this Frisbee experience because as I have pondered it, it has given me hope.  I think to myself, “If I, an imperfect person, can quickly forgive the mistakes of a teammate and trust him in the game, how much more should I expect the Lord, a perfectly merciful person, to be able to forgive me and trust me with his errands in his work.”

It is my testimony that the atonement is real, and that the Lord is more merciful than any of us can image.  I know that if you sincerely repent and go to work, then the Lord will give you chance after chance to be an instrument in his hands.

(See these sources on the subject:  The Atonement Can Clean, Reclaim, and Sanctify Our Lives, Shayne M. Bowen; The Great and Wonderful Love, Anthony D. Perkins; Ether 2-3 (Book of Mormon))

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes… Goals and Plans Make it Come True

slantmagazine.com

            Today’s blog is about one of my biggest weakness that I wish I had figured out before my mission – setting goals and making plans.  I was always the kid that rolled his eyes at New Year’s time when everyone sat down to make New Year’s resolutions.  My attitude was, “I know I’m not going to look at this paper again for the next twelve months.  Why waste my time?” and “If I don’t right it down, then it is not considered an official failure if I don’t accomplish it.”

            Setting goals and making plans is essential in all areas of missionary work, but I noticed the blessings of it most obviously in my language abilities.  For the beginning part of my mission in the field, I struggled to come up with an effective language study.  Finally, I came across a quote that changed my life.  I don’t remember who said it, but it was something to the effect of, “Even if you don’t reach your goal, you will still accomplish more than you would have if you hadn’t set the goal.”  This revelation was key to me overcoming my fear of failing to achieve a written goal.

            So I pondered.  I decided it was a dream of mine to speak better Russian and be able to use the scriptures better in Russian.  So at the beginning of a transfer I set a goal to memorize forty scriptures in Russian that were related to the first lesson by the end of the transfer.  I planned out which scriptures I was going to memorized and when.  I believed it was possible, I really wanted to accomplish it, and so I went for it.  I worked hard.  I prayed hard.  I think I fell just a little bit short of my forty, but by the end of the transfer I had memorized thirty-something Restoration scriptures in Russian, and I noticed that they helped me significantly improve my ability to teach the first lesson. 

             Dreams don’t come true on their own, or by the magic of a fairy godmother.  When you learn how to turn your dreams into achievable goals, and learn how to plan to accomplish them, then you have the power to make your dreams come true.  When your goals are in line with the Lord’s, and he helps you fulfill your plans to reach your righteous goals, miracles happen.  I wish I had practiced more before my mission how to set goals and make plans.            

There is a Plan

           “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.  In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths,” (Proverbs 3:5-6).  Today I wanted to share an experience taught me to believe this scripture.

Me and Simeon (member) on Leninskaya Street.

            With three transfers (four and a half months) left in my mission I was transferred back to my favorite area as the zone leader, with a brand new missionary.  When my companion and I first arrived, there were no progressing investigators.  The previous missionaries had worked very hard and had baptized two brand new converts, so my companion and I needed to do some finding.  For the first three days in our area we hit the streets.  Our area had two major streets, Mirskaya and Leninskaya.  We tracted in the evenings, called potential investigators in any spare moment, and visited former investigators, but we spent several hours a day walking back and forth on those two main streets talking to people, because that’s where the people were.

            We fasted and prayed, but for days seemed to do nothing but finding.  One day, toward the end of the week, a man called out after us, “Hey, Elders!”  We were shocked because people who wanted to talk to us usually didn’t use the title “Elders.”  The man asked if we had the information of the church in that city.  We gave it to him and before we could find out more, he took off.

The first church building in our mission!

            Sometime in the second transfer of being there construction finished on the first “meeting house” in our mission, which was in our city, Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk.  As we moved all of the church things from our previous space in an office building into our own church building, the man who stopped us on the street several weeks prior showed up.  He explained that he was a member from another city, in another Russian mission, and he just needed a copy of the Book of Mormon before he head up to the northern part of Sakhalin Island to work.  So we gave him a Book of Mormon and he left. 

            The move was great, but our second transfer brought us some hard disappointments with the work and investigators.  I was trying my hardest to help this new missionary start his mission out on the right foot.  I wanted him to have experiences that would fill him with confidence that golden investigators actually exist and miracles do happen in missionary work, but things seemed grim.  Early in my last transfer, a pair of strangers showed up at sacrament meeting.  After talking to them we realized that it was the man from the street with a friend. 

            It turned out that the man was a less active member from another city, here on business.  During my companion’s first week and mine, the man had seen us go back and forth on Leninskaya Street, over and over again.  Every time he saw us he felt like he needed to stop us, but he kept chickening out.  Finally, we had passed him so many times every day that he couldn’t take it anymore and he stopped us.  He felt like he needed a Book of Mormon before he went to work up north.  While he was up north one of his coworkers noticed the Book of Mormon and wanted to know more.  He explained about it, and let her start reading it.  She was touched, and so they came back to our city so she could learn more.  She was a golden investigator whose heart had been prepared.  She took the lessons and in a few weeks was ready for baptism.  

            I wanted to share this story because you future missionaries will do a lot of work that will seem monotonous or repetitive at times, but I want to assure you that if you work with all your heart, and try your best to follow the Spirit, the Lord has a plan.  Just trust Him, and keep up the work.  

Ultimate Bonding (Personal Narrative Final Draft)

iphonelife.com

           To a sleep deprived, early-morning-seminary student, Saturday mornings are sacred, especially when you have nine o’ clock church on Sunday.  So you can imagine my displeasure when I woke up one Saturday morning to my dad shaking my leg, saying, “Alright boys, it’s time to get up for Ultimate Frisbee.”

            To his surprise, my dad came back five minutes later to find his sixteen and thirteen year old sons still completely comatose.  “Seriously?  Come on you guys!  We’ve gotta go so I can set up the field!”  His voice seemed distant, like an echo in a dark cave.  I buried my face deeper in my soft pillowcase, deeply breathing in the smells of motherly love and Snuggie’s drier sheets. 

            I was about to dive into a fresh REM cycle when I felt something slowly wrapping around my ankle.  I recognized the rough, thick fabric as a Tae-Kwon-Do belt from my elementary school days.  As I tried to make sense of the sensation, the filing clerks of my memory retrieved an image of my younger brother tying my Tae-Kwon-Do belts together into a multicolored rope and trying to repel over the second story railing.  I visualized the knotted rainbow rope tied to my ankle, mentally followed it over the edge of the top bunk, across the floor, and right into –

            “GWAHHHH!” I yelled as the lower half of my body was ripped over the edge of my bed.  I scrambled back onto the mattress while my dad prepared for another tug. 

            “GUR!” my dad roared as he yanked again.  The wooden bunk bed creaked and tipped as I push against the safety board with all the strength in my free leg.  Heart pounding, mind racing, I grabbed the bright colored belts and pulled back.  My brother Joel woke up wide-eyed to watch the classic struggle between father and son unfolding in our bright blue, hero-themed bedroom.  From the other side of the room I could see the veins bulging in my dad’s meaty arms as he pulled on the belt-rope.  He leaned back toward the almost closed bathroom door, putting all his weight into the titanic tug of war.

            The bed creaked, my arms shook, and my whole bed was on the brink of collapse when suddenly, I let go of the rope.  With a yelp, my dad flew back, crashed through the open bathroom door, onto the cold tile floor.  Fuming, my dad stormed out of the room, and Joel and I went triumphantly back to sleep.

            “So how was Frisbee this morning?” I asked teasingly as my dad came home that morning. 

            “I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied.  I hoped my teasing would provoke some witty banter, or some acknowledgement of my morning glory.  My triumphant smirk faded, however, as I found sadness in his eyes, instead of the playful fire.

            The rest of the week went normally, which meant I didn’t see my dad very much.  I was sitting in seminary before the sun was even up, and most nights dad had bishop business after work, so I caught glimpses of him at dinnertime every once and a while.  The next Saturday I was shaken awake again.  I turned over ready to remind my dad of last week’s victory, but paused when I saw a glimmer of hope in his dark brown eyes.

            Reluctantly, I crawled out of bed and went with him to the field.  It was a gloriously miserable game of Frisbee.  Our socks and cleats were heavy with cold winter rain.  The slick mud made for beautiful sliding and diving catches, and rewarded the players with wet, muddy badges of honor for their heroic plays. As the game went on our hands grew stiff and unresponsive when we tried to close our fingers around the Frisbee.  After a while, the wind came and officially ended the game. 

            Soaked and shivering, my dad and I ran to the Jacuzzi at the community pool.  Entering the hot water felt like wadding into a pool of hot needles as our freezing skin came back to life.  As the steam rose around us, my dad and I reflected on the game.  We laughed as we relived some of the exceptional throws and critical catches.  Conversation gradually turned to school, seminary, and life in general. 

We knew it was time to go when our fingertips began to wrinkle like raisins.  Before we left my dad stopped me.  The mood became more serious, and instantly I thought I was in trouble.  On the contrary, my dad looked at me with eyes full of love and said, “I was thinking this week about things that I’m grateful for, and you were up there at the top of my list.  So I just wanted to let you know that, and say thank you for being such a great son.”

“Thanks dad!” I replied as we climbed out, dried off, and headed home.

            The rest of the week went normally, which meant I didn’t see my dad very much.  We both kept busy, and before I knew it, it was Friday night again.  Glancing at the Superman clock on my bookshelf, I hurried through nightly routine with superhuman speed.  Teeth brushed, pajamas on, I stepped around a pile of clothes, over the multicolored belt rope, and jumped in bed.  My pillowcase was soft and cool.  The bright red covers of my bed were comfy and inviting, but before I got too comfortable, I made sure to set an alarm for Saturday morning Frisbee with dad.

Pray for People, In Front of People

My MTC district.

           When I was in the MTC I learned a lesson that proved helpful in the field.  I’m glad I knew this at the beginning of my mission, so I'm excited to share it with you.

            In the MTC I served as a district leader.  One Sunday, our branch president, or member of the presidency, was teaching a group of district and zone leaders how to conduct effective interviews. He taught us to pray out loud with missionaries we interview.  We were counseled to let the missionaries hear us pray to the Father for them and let them hear us express sincere gratitude to Heavenly Father for them and all that they do.   He also taught us that if we listened carefully to the other missionaries pray (especially our companions), then it would give us great insights into what that missionary was concerned about, or perhaps struggling with.  I tried to do that as a district leader and felt that it helped my district members feel that I loved them. 

            I remember a specific experience where this principle applied in the field.  One night, my companion and I met with a member of the branch presidency in Vladivostok.  I remember being still fairly new to the country and the language, but the branch presidency member asked me to give the prayer.  I remember bowing my head, and the lesson I had learned in the MTC came strongly to mind.  In the best Russian I could muster, I thanked the Lord sincerely for the presidency member’s service.  I prayed with all my heart for him, his family, his work and his calling.  As I did my very best to pray for him, a sweet Spirit filled the room.  After the prayer he thanked me sincerely for my prayer, and we had a wonderful missionary message.

            To all the preparing future missionaries, I share this with you so that you can know one powerful way to show your love for your companions, members, and investigators.  Let them hear you pray sincerely for them and things that are important to them.  Home teaching and family prayer is a perfect time to practice this before your mission and continue to apply it after.

            I just want to end with a scripture where the Savior, our perfect example, practices this principle among the Nephites: “And no one can conceive of the joy which filled our souls at the time we heard [Jesus] pray for us unto the Father,” (3 Nephi 17:17).  

Team Work in the Lord's Work

My first zone in Khabarovsk at a sports activity
with some english club members and investigators.

           I have always been impressed with the missionary teamwork demonstrated by the sons of Mosiah, especially in the conversion of King Lamoni’s father (King of all the Lamanites).  King Lamoni’s father’s first encounter with missionaries was rough to say the least.  King Lamoni’s father ran into the converted Lamoni and Ammon on the road as they traveled to free some of Ammon’s brothers.  The King was thoroughly bothered by the King Lamoni’s absence at a his feast, and even more upset that Lamoni was traveling with a Nephite.  In the heat of the moment he tried to kill Ammon.  He failed, and Ammon had a perfect opportunity to kill him, or take half his kingdom, but surprised the king by only demanding that his brothers be released from prison and that Lamoni be allowed to retain kingdom and not lose his father’s favor.  Ammon’s surprising selflessness and love for Lamoni softened the king’s heart.  Later Aaron, Ammon’s brother, met King Lamoni’s father.  Having thought much about his encounter with Ammon, King Lamoni’s father had many questions and was ready to be taught the gospel. Aaron taught him, and he was converted.

            Sometimes, it takes a whole team of missionaries to bring people to Christ, each helping a little.  When I was a brand new missionary I was riding on a bus and invited someone to English club.  The next time English club met, I saw her in the sisters’ beginner group.  Before they left the city the sisters started teaching her, but then I got transferred and heard nothing more of her progress.  Toward the end of my mission I was in Vladivostok and saw a girl at church who looked incredibly familiar.  I asked around and found out that it was the same girl I had talked to on the bus almost a year and half ago!  I don’t remember all of the details, and probably never had all of the details, but she had moved from Khabarovsk (my first city) down to Valdivostok sometime after the sisters had left.  A missionary serving in Vladivostok found her, and she was ready to continue learning the gospel and ready to be baptized. 

            I share this story for a number of reasons, and one of them is not to claim credit for her conversion.  I can’t claim credit at all.  I share this to show first that great things do come to pass by small and simple means.  When people talk about “seeds being planted in people’s hearts” that isn’t just something we say to make ourselves feel better about what sometimes feels like failure.  Every little invitation, every effort to teach and cry repentance is not in wasted.  Also, I share this to show that missionary work is teamwork.  I shared in an earlier post a quote that is worth repeating.  A missionary’s football coach used to say, “It’s amazing what can be accomplished when no one cares who gets the credit.”  When missionaries are competing to have better statistics than the next missionary, they make the work harder on themselves.  When missionaries work together with a spirit of love and unity, lifting each other as they strive for a common goal, then miracles happen.  Of coarse the credit really goes to Jesus Christ, the team captain, who masterfully orchestrates every miraculously coordinated play.

            I wish I had understood that principle of teamwork in missionary work early in my mission. 

Ultimate Bonding (Personal Narrative Draft)

iphonelife.com

          To a sleep deprived, early-morning-seminary student, Saturday mornings are sacred, especially when you have nine o’ cock church on Sunday.  So you can imagine my displeasure when I woke up one Saturday morning to my dad shaking my leg, saying, “Alright boys it’s time to get up for ultimate Frisbee.”

            To his surprise, my dad came back five minutes later to find his sixteen and thirteen year old sons still completely comatose.  “Seriously?  Come on you guys!  We’ve gotta go so I can set up the field!”  His voice seemed distant, like an echo in a dark cave.  I buried my face deeper in my soft pillowcase, deeply breathing in the smells of motherly love and Snuggie’s drier sheets. 

            I was about to dive into a fresh REM cycle when I felt something slowly wrapping around my ankle.  I recognized the rough, thick fabric as a Tae-Kwon-Do belt from my elementary school days.  As I tried to make sense of the sensation, the filing clerks of my memory retrieved an image of my younger brother tying my Tae-Kwon-Do belts together into a multicolored rope and trying to repel over the second story railing.  I visualized the knotted rainbow rope tied to my ankle, mentally followed it over the edge of the top bunk, across the floor, and right into –

            “GWAHHHH!” I yelled as the lower half of my body was ripped over the edge of my bed.  I scrambled back onto the mattress while my dad prepared for another tug. 

            “GUR!” my dad roared as he yanked again.  The wooden bunk bed creaked and tipped as I push against the safety board with all the strength in my free leg.  Heart pounding, mind racing, I grabbed the bright colored belts and pulled back.  My brother Joel woke up wide-eyed to watch the classic struggle between father and son unfolding in our bright blue, hero-themed bedroom.  From the other side of the room I could see the veins bulging in my dad’s meaty arms as he pulled on the belt-rope.  He leaned back toward the almost closed bathroom door, putting all his weight into the titanic tug of war.

            The bed creaked, my arms shook, and my whole bed was on the brink of collapse when suddenly, I let go of the rope.  With a yelp, my dad flew back, crashed through the open bathroom door, onto the cold tile floor.  Fuming, my dad stormed out of the room, and Joel and I went triumphantly back to sleep.

            When my dad came home from Frisbee that morning I asked him teasingly how the game had gone.  I expected to be called a girl for not playing, but hoped for some witty remark to initiate some verbal sparing.  I was surprised to see a sad expression on his face instead.

            The rest of the week went normally, which meant I didn’t see my dad very much.  I was sitting in seminary before the sun was even up, and most nights dad had bishop business after work, so I caught glimpses of him at dinner time every once and a while.  The next Saturday I was shaken awake again.  I turned over ready to remind my dad of last week’s victory, but paused when I saw a glimmer of hope in his dark brown eyes.

            Reluctantly, I crawled out of bed and went with him to the field.  It was a gloriously miserable game of Frisbee.  Our socks and cleats were heavy with cold winter rain.  The slick mud made for beautiful sliding and diving catches, and offered wet, muddy badges of honor for those who made heroic plays. As the game went on our hands grew stiff and unresponsive when we tried to close our fingers around a Frisbee.  In the end, the wind came and officially ended the game. 

            Soaked and shivering, my dad and I ran to the Jacuzzi at the community pool.  Entering the hot water felt like being pricked by a thousand little needles as our freezing skin came back to life.  As the steam rose around us, my dad and I reflected on the game.  We laughed as we relived some of the exceptional throws and critical catches.  Conversation gradually turned to school, seminary, and life in general. 

We knew it was time to go when our fingertips began to wrinkle like raisins.  Before we left my dad stopped me.  The mood became more serious, and instantly I thought I was in trouble.  On the contrary, my dad looked at me with eyes full of love and said, “I was thinking this week about things that I’m grateful for, and you were up there at the top of my list.  So I just wanted to let you know that, and say thank you for being such a great son.”  We embraced, got out, dried off, and left warmed by more than just the Jacuzzi water.

            The rest of the week went normally, which meant I didn’t see my dad very much.  We both kept busy; he with work and church service and I with school and teenage life.  On nights when he didn’t make it to the dinner table, I remembered his loving eyes, his grateful smile, and the plays of glory from our ultimate Frisbee game.  On the weekday evenings I did my homework.  Friday evening I spent time with my friends.  Friday night I probably didn’t get to bed until late, but I made sure to set an alarm for Saturday morning Frisbee with dad. 

Let Down the Nets Again

projectbritain.com

            In Luke chapter 5 we read of an exchange between Jesus and Peter that has become precious to me.  After a long day of fishing, Peter and other fishers were washing their nets.  At the Lord’s request Peter launched out in his boat, and from the boat Jesus taught those who followed him.  After the lesson the Lord said to Peter, “Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught.” 

            Peter, an experienced fisherman, replied to Jesus, “Master, we have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing: nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net.”  Obediently, Peter let down the nets again.  The scriptures then record that, “when they had this done, they enclosed a great multitude of fishes: and their net brake.  And they beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so that they began to sink.”

            This story became meaningful for me because of how it helped me as a missionary.  My mom sent me a talk-on-CD by S. Michael Wilcox entitled, “Walking on Water: When the Lord Asks the Impossible” (I highly recommend it) at a low point in my mission.   It was at the time I described in an earlier blog; about nine months into my mission, when nothing seemed to work out for several long transfers (approximately four and a half months).  After those transfers, and after talking with my mission president (when he gave me the advice I blogged about before) I got this CD.  

            In his talk, S. Michael Wilcox shared the story of Peter, then a story from his mission in which he and his companions felt prompted to tract a building that they had already tracted recently.  Against reason, they followed the prompting and found a wonderful investigator.  He then taught the lesson that sometimes we try to do what the Lord asks of us and it doesn’t work out, but if he asks us to try again and we do, then he will bless us with miracles.

            I remember feeling the spirit so strongly as I listened.  I went to my room and prayed that, despite how discouraged I felt, I would let down my nets again; I would dare to hope again even with the possibility of disappointment.  Shortly there after a girl came to English club that the Lord had prepared.  She is an amazing disciple of Christ!  I had the privilege of baptizing her, got to work with her a year later when she served as a branch missionary, and got to be there when she went through the temple before reporting to the Provo MTC.

            I wanted to share this with you soon-to-be-missionaries, and wanted to beg you, please, never give up!  I know the Lord is preparing people, and no matter how hopeless your situation might seem, if you sincerely try, your efforts will not be wasted.  So just remember, when you feel like calling it quits, let down your nets again.   

Thanksgiving Thought

            In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I wanted to share a special lesson I learned a little later in my mission. 

In Russia there was a new law that required foreigners to leave the country every three months to renew their visas. When the new visa law first went into effect, we did some exciting traveling trying to find the best balance between less expensive flights and fast visa processing.  We went to Prague, then Germany, and finally went multiple times to South Korea.  When we went to South Korea, we stayed in the temple dormitories and did as much temple work as we could with the time we had. 

 About a year and three months into my mission things were going well.  My first Russian winter was giving way to spring, I was serving a second time with my native companion, Elder Pochyekutov, and it was about time for me to go renew my visa.  At this time I had set a special weeklong goal about prayer.  I set a goal to only offer thanks and pray for others in my prayers (with the exception of praying for the gift of tongues for myself, and praying for things like charity with which you need the Lord’s help).

It was a great experience!  I really felt the Spirit as I tried to be less selfish and focus more other people.  I felt closer to the Lord as I made extra effort to recognize his hand in my life and thank him for the blessings I had received.  In the middle of that week I went to Korea with some of the missionaries with whom I served.  Some how we ended up talking about prayer and one of the other missionaries commented that, “when you pray offering thanks you feel God’s love for you, and when you pray for other people, you feel a part of his love for them.”  That really hit me because it put the lesson that I was learning from my goal into words.

theholidayspot.com

I wish I had known earlier in my mission the power of focusing on thanks and focusing on others in prayer.  

Service Softens Hearts

sugardoodle.net

Today’s thought is a principle that I’m sure will not be new to you, but I wanted to testify that it’s true. 

Every young man with desires to serve a mission is familiar with the story of Ammon.  Little boys love the part where Ammon disarms the enemies of King Lamoni.  Older boys appreciate the variety of weaponry Ammon uses, from the sling to the sword.  Then, as young men approach mission age, they learn to appreciate the real moral of the story, that service softens people’s hearts. 

One day, my companion and I were street contacting.  In Vladivostok, the streets wind wildly over steep slopes, like snakes slithering up hill between the towering, communist apartment buildings.  We tried to talk to some people about the gospel with little success.  Some people were politely not interested, some rudely rejected our message, and some people avoided us all together.  One man in a black and white striped shirt shook his head, expressed his disinterest and hurried along.

As we continued along our planned route, we came across a lady closing up her kiosk for a lunch break.  Her food stand had a sturdy metal gate that came down over the window when she turned a crank at the top.  As we walked by, she stood on a rickety box, on her tip-toes, struggling to turn the crank.  My companion and I stopped and offered to help.  Relieved, she accepted, and we helped her close up her shop.

As we walked away a man in a black and white striped shirt approached us.  He said that he saw what we had done to help the kiosk lady and wanted to know who we were and what we were doing in Russia.  As my companion began explaining I realized that it was the same man who had hurriedly blown us off earlier!

I would like to tell you that he got baptized three weeks later, but he didn’t.  I never saw him again after that, but I was still impressed that the Ammon principle had worked!  A man saw some service, and a spark of interest arose in his heart.  Hopefully a seed was planted that will grow into a greater desire someday.  So for all you young men about to serve missions, I just want to share with you my testimony that service really softens hearts.       

In Good Company

lds.org

Since serving my mission I have come to better appreciate the Prophet Joseph Smith.  I have come to especially appreciate his attitude at the very beginning of the persecution that would follow him all his life.

In Joseph Smith History, Joseph responds to his persecutions with this courageous declaration: “I had actually seen a light, and in the midst of that light I saw two Personages, and they did in reality speak to me; and though I was hated and persecuted for saying that I had seen a vision, yet it was true; and while they were persecuting me, reviling me, and speaking all manner of evil against me falsely for so saying, I was led to say in my heart: Why persecute me for telling the truth? I have actually seen a vision; and who am I that I can withstand God, or why does the world think to make me deny what I have actually seen? For I had seen a vision; I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it, neither dared I do it; at least I knew that by so doing I would offend God, and come under condemnation.”

Young Joseph Smith is a perfect example for missionaries!  Before my mission, I grew up in the church.  I was accustomed to bearing my testimony in sacrament meetings and at youth conferences where the listeners are supportive.  When I entered the mission field sharing my testimony went differently than it had back at home.  Some scoffed.  Some laughed.  Some aggressively fought against my efforts to share what I knew was true.  It was fairly common to run into hardened atheists who tried to tell me that there is no way I could know what I claims to know, that my experiences were insufficient to be convincing evidence, or that it just wasn't important.

I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who helped me to learn to appreciate the testimony that I have.  He helped me to realize that nothing that anyone else says changes the fact that what I felt when I read the Book of Mormon was real.  Other people refusing to believe didn't change the fact that I have received answers to my prayers, felt God's love, and experienced the healing power of the atonement.    

 I wish i had followed Joseph Smith's example the moment my testimony was challenged.  I know that you have had experiences that are meaningful to you.  You wouldn't be so stoked to go on a mission if you had never felt even a little bit of God's love.  It was real!  You know it!  And you know that God knows it!  Don't ever deny it!  Don't let anyone tell you that your testimony isn't good enough.  What do they know?

Questimony

russiablog.org

About half way into my mission I learned something really important about testimony that I wish I had known at the beginning.  My companion, Elder Pochekutov, and I were teaching an awesome girl named Anya.  She was reading the Book of Mormon and really searching for a testimony.  As we tried to help her recognize the Spirit, and prepare her to receive her own testimony, Elder Pochekutov and I went on a quest to better understand how testimonies are received.

We met with many of the members, and asked them to share with us how they received their answer that the Book of Mormon was true.  We were impressed that everyone’s experience was very unique and personal.  One member said that as she read the Book of Mormon she just knew it was true.  Another member said that she had been pretty stubborn about the Book of Mormon.  She told us that when the missionaries met with her she said, “We have a Bible and we don’t need another Bible.”  The missionaries then shared with her the passage in 2 Nephi when Nephi prophesies about that attitude.  When she read her argument word for word in prophecy she was humbled and the Spirit testified that it was true.  A new convert that I had taught in that city shared that when she read the Bible, she felt that it was like a mirror in which God showed her how she could improve.  As she read the Book of Mormon, she felt God teach her in the same way how she could strengthen her family.

During this quest I read in Moroni 7: 24 where Moroni records the words of his father Mormon saying, “And behold, there were diverse ways that he did manifest things unto the children of men, which were good.”  The lesson I learned from our quest was that God knows his children perfectly and individually.  He knows how to reveal the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon in a time and a way that they will understand.  Don’t ever be afraid to extend Moroni’s promise because you don’t know how or when the answer will come.  If they sincerely want it, the answer will come.  

The Language of the Spirit

My Russian Book of Mormon

Here is an experience for any one learning a new language.  I’m glad this happened early in my mission, but it took me a while longer to appreciate the lesson in it.

In my first area, my trainer and I were teaching a couple, we’ll call them Dima and Katya.  I was new, but I tried my best to contribute on lessons.  One day, my companion and I were meeting with Dima and Katya, and the “how is life?” conversation started sounding really important.  Katya was getting emotional and all I remember being able to pick out was simple works like car, money, and work. 

I concluded that they were having some money problems, and opened up to Alma 34 where Amulek teaches people to pray over their flocks and their fields.  I jumped into the conversation, and asked Dima to read the passage.  As he read, I realized I had no idea how to explain in Russian how praying over flocks and fields could apply to him as praying about his job and about making ends meet. 

As Dima finished the verse, to my relief, Katya turned to us and said, “I didn’t know you could pray about work and money and stuff like that!”  I was so relieved!  The Spirit had helped her get from the scriptures that, which I was afraid I could not explain. 

In Preach My Gospel, President Monson teaches, “There is one language . . . that is common to each missionary—the language of the Spirit. It is not learned from textbooks written by men of letters, nor is it acquired through reading and memorization. The language of the Spirit comes to him who seeks with all his heart to know God and keep His divine commandments. Proficiency in this language permits one to breach barriers, overcome obstacles, and touch the human heart.”

If anyone is feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of learning a new language, know that the Spirit will be with you to help your investigators hear the testimony in your heart.

Conquering Doubt with the Shield of Faith

dna.gov

I had an experience the other day that reminded me of something important.  I was sitting in genetics class.  The night before had been a late one, and by 4:20 pm I was struggling to stay awake.  The teacher was talking about some people who tried to discredit the Book of Mormon on the grounds that genetic studies prove that the American Indians are not of Hebrew descent.  I was awake for just enough to be bothered by the argument, but not catch the counter argument. 

As I read the Book of Mormon the next morning it kept bothering me.  Rather than let it eat away at me and freak me out, I stopped, prayed, and found some great sources online defending against the genetic anti-Mormon argument.  One of the defenders was John M. Butler, an LDS geneticist who is highly respected in the scientific community for his work in genetics.

As a missionary, you will hear all kinds of attacks on the Book of Mormon.  Side note: DO NOT SEEK THEM OUT!  If you search out or look into anti-Mormon literature to “see what the other side is thinking so that you can argue against antis,” then you will get in trouble.  The best way to be prepared to deal with antis is to thoroughly know the truth.  Trust me, you will come across plenty of crazy attacks without seeking them out.

When you come across these things, sometimes they are unsettling and confusing.  They’re purposefully designed to be that way.  The important thing is to not panic.  Satan will tempt you to freak out, question your testimony and look for intellectual evidence of the Book of Mormon instead of spiritual.  He will tempt you and your investigators to put the Book of Mormon aside until you figure it out logically for yourself.  In my opinion, one of the biggest mistakes people make when they have doubts is that they stop doing what they’re supposed to (praying, studying scriptures, going to church) until they resolve their concerns/doubts.  You can’t do that!  When you have doubts and concerns is when you need to be reading and praying the most!  When people stop doing the small things, they become more out of tune with the Spirit, and their doubts consume them. 

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So don’t panic.  Grab the shield of faith!  Keep going even though you don’t understand everything yet (1 Ne 11:17).  Remember Moroni’s promise: “By the power of the Holy Ghost, you may know the truth of all things” (Moroni 10:5).  I know that the Lord will help you and your investigators find peace and conquer doubt if you continue your study with a sincere desire to know the truth, believing that the Lord will reveal it to you.  It just makes sense that the Lord wants you to know the truth.  Even if your doubts loom over you like Goliath, the Lord will fight for you! (Exodus 14:14).

Finding That Which is Lost

passportvisasexpress.com

Here’s a fun little story, with a lesson I wish I had kept in mind better as a missionary.  When my trainer and I went to my first area in the field we had to run around like crazy trying to get legally registered in our apartment.  One day, during this crazy first week, my companion reached into his bag to get our registration slip to make a copy.  To his horror, the slip was not there.  We retraced our steps from the day’s activities, searching frantically because there is an unfortunately large fine for losing your registration. 

As tension mounted I suggested we pray.  We did, and continued our search.  As we headed back to our apartment, my companion prepared to make the call to the mission office to explain our situation.  Suddenly, a construction worker who was working by our apartment building called after us, “Hey Americans!  Did you lose something?”

Miraculously, this worker had found our registration on the street, held on to it, recognized us, and sold it back to us.  I was so grateful for the miraculous answer to our prayer!  Looking back, I think of what Jesus said to his apostles in Luke chapter 12.   Jesus points out that sparrows are super cheap, but “not one of them is forgotten before God.”  He then explains that they, the apostles, are more important to God than sparrows, so they can trust that he will take care of them.  I think how insignificant that registration paper was compared to the worth of a soul.  If God, then, could help us miraculously find a registration paper, how much more willing will he be to help us find those who are lost, but seeking the truth? 

I know that God prepares his children to receive the gospel.  I know He will help us find them if we will ask in faith.  

The Real Test of Faith

           One valuable lesson that I wish I had learned before my mission is about faith.  About nine months into my mission, I found myself in probably the most challenging time of the whole two years.  My companion and I had transferred together into an area that did not have any current investigators.  He and I worked as hard as we knew how, but no matter what we did, we couldn’t seem to find anyone to teach.  This continued for weeks.  When our mission president came to visit I talked to him about our struggles and about the feelings of discouragement I had.  He then gave me this timeless counsel, “Faith is not always instantly rewarded.  Sometimes the real test of our faith is to be asked to keep going when we don’t see immediate results.”

            This advice was encouraging then, and helped me throughout my mission.  Later, while serving in another city, our mission was given a mandate from the general authorities to teach fifteen sit-down lessons with a prayer.  For most areas this required us to stretch our faith.  My companion and I went to work.  The last week of that transfer, we prayed that the Lord would provide a way for us to teach fifteen lessons.  We worked and prayed, and by the end of the week we taught fourteen. 

hamsy2000.wordpress.com

I was confused.  I thought the Lord was bound to provide a way if he gave a commandment.  Then I remembered what my mission president had said.  I also considered Nephi and how when he tried to fulfill the commandment to get the plates, it didn’t work out for him on his first try.  The transfer ended, and I got a new companion.  I decided to try again, and that whole transfer we were blessed with fifteen lessons with a prayer every week. 

I’m grateful for my mission president who taught me that faith means to keep working even when you don’t see immediate results.  I know that if you will trust the Lord as you serve, even when things look discouraging, that everything will work out in the end.  

World of Research! LOL! G2G

us.blizzard.com

I have chosen to write my research paper on the negative effects of MMORPGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games).  As I have talked to my friends about my topic almost everyone has had some connection to the topic.  Many have known someone who has fallen into excessive usage of these types of games, or have been the excessive users themselves.  Stories of people being addicted to MMORPGs (such as World of Warcraft) and the terrible consequences in those stories made me interested in this topic.

My research has yielded unexpected results so far.  Many researchers seem eager to defend online gaming, and portray online socializing and relationships as equal to non-computer-mediated socializing and relationships.  I have had a tough choice with this paper.  I have been debating whether I want to take the easier road and argue on the side of researchers that MMORPGs can be healthy, even helpful for socializing, or whether I want to argue what I actually believe, and try to prove that MMORPGs are bad for people and relationships.  I have decided that I am going to try to argue what I really think and feel, and try my best to find legitimate evidence to back it up.

To all of you young men, to whom this blog is targeted, I just want to say limit carefully your gaming if you even play at all.  I was into video games in junior high.  In high school I got busy with other things, and my time spent gaming gradually decreased.  Looking back I am glad that I moved away from video games in high school, and learned to interact with people socially.  I was really shy when I was younger, and it would have been a lot easier to just play video games.  However, overcoming my shyness was something that I worked hard on with the Lord.  Becoming more outgoing was a spiritual experience, for which that I am very grateful.  Even so, as a missionary, I looked back and regretted the time I spent playing video games that I could have used to develop talents or increase in knowledge.

I want to end with a quote.  In his landmark talk to the Aaronic Priesthood, “The Greatest Generation of Missionaries,” Elder Ballard counseled, “[Limit] the amount of time spent playing computer games. How many kills you can make in a minute with a computer game will have zero effect on your capacity to be a good missionary.”  He is absolutely right.

Keep up the good work preparing for your missions!  They’ll come quickly, so use the time you have to prepare wisely.