Hey all. I'm being transferred. Wow, are you confused? So am I. So is the world. My mom sent me an email today from coach TJ. The email read as follows: "The late Admiral James Stockdale was a Medal of Honor recipient and the highest ranking officer to spend time in the "Hanoi Hilton," a Vietnamese prisoner of war camp where he endured 7.5 years of torture, abuse, and solitary confinement." "In an interview about his experience, Stockdale makes two important points about how he survived the unimaginably painful circumstances. First, "I never lost faith in the end of the story, I never doubted not only that I would get out, but also that I would prevail in the end and turn the experience into the defining event of my life, which, in retrospect, I would not trade."" "So, the takeaway is don't lose faith, stay optimistic that you'll get out. But then he hits you with the paradox when asked, "Who didn't make it out?"" He replies, "Oh, that's easy, the optimists. They were the ones who said, 'We're going to be out by Christmas.' And Christmas would come, and Christmas would go. Then they'd say, 'We're going to be out by Easter.' And Easter would come, and Easter would go. And then Thanksgiving, and then it would be Christmas again. And they died of a broken heart." "Sound familiar?! Don't die of a broken heart (by being overly optimistic). Get on board with the idea that the new life you're living could be here for a LONG time. Then decide how you'll make this experience one that you would not trade." Last week we had a wonderful district council. It was all about faith. I read TJ's quote and thought about optimism. I said that we must have the faith not to be healed. Talking about being optimistic, I shared that optimism was thinking that one can control the water, pessimism is ignoring the water, and staying neutral is riding the wave that's given you. However, my theory was soon put to the test. A new transfer doc telling us that we are moving areas was dropped. It told us that our entire district was breaking up, but specifically that Elder Seamons and I are both double covering an area in Longmont, Colorado. I'm happy to have my mom's advice on draw. No one knows how to feel right now. This virus is the strangest thing. I've been here a week and not met a single church member or taught a single lesson. Not once been to a church activity. I'm now going to live with three other Elders in Longmont in an area we know nothing about. The zone leaders came in here and told us that the APs said they considered keeping us in Greeley, but knew that we could line up lessons and get the work going in this area. We also got an email that said, within the coming months, there will be 70-100 new missionaries that will come into the mission. This wave is a little crazy that I'm being given. Strange timing. New life, huh? First, you couldn’t go to strangers’ homes. Then, no church members' homes. Now, the entire state of Colorado is quarantined. Then, within one week, three transfer docs have been dropped. First of all, Elder Silver is going home. 20 missionaries are being sent home on Friday, all with medical problems. Elder Silver found out two nights ago. He took it like a champ. He is sometimes a little awkward, but has such a good heart. He was getting on some people's nerves a bit, as we all do, but as soon as this news hit our hearts broke just a little. He had been working for three years to be a missionary, trying to come out despite health issues. Now, after less than two months as a missionary, he is being sent home for health reasons. A lot of us are treating our missions how we treated Elder Silver. We liked him, but every once in a while we'd let him get on our nerves or we'd complain about something that seemed to matter at the moment. Now, all of that is blotted out into insignificance. I remember walking in to go run with another Elder and Elder Silver was sitting on the couch, soaking in every day that comes from being a missionary, even while getting ready to workout, exhausted in the morning. You could feel the good. We were all enjoying Elder Silver’s company, the last rays of light that came from his presence in the FoCo mission. Sad day. In a world of constantly changing circumstances, it's hard to stay light and full. The consistency of family, friends, and media rapidly changes. It's difficult. I packed up the same stuff I packed a week ago and talked with the other Elders next door. Elder Silver soaked everything in, offering to help us pack. He wore his future on his shoulders, the only one with a suit jacket. When you go home, you wear a suit. We were teaching online the other day. When we called this dad and 17-year-old daughter who wanted to discuss the mission, I think they were surprised to see three guys instead of the sister missionaries who taught them before. The lesson went well though. We all explained why we were out on our missions. My companion, Elder Seamons, told the story of how he decided to serve a mission. When he first came out he read at a 5th grade level but learned to read on his mission, and he’s read the Book of Mormon five times. I shared a scripture in Exodus. I also talked about how going on a mission is scary because it feels like walking toward something blindfolded. I love my companion, really. He is such a good kid, I have mad respect for him. He works incredibly hard and is quick on his feet. He is really funny and blunt, says what needs to be said and is compassionate. Pretty cool guy. He has been a zone leader a big part of his mission, so it is interesting to see the characteristics he holds and how they apply to being a great leader. I talked to President Palmer for a split second and he answered someone's question with, "we just need missionaries to be flexible." It was a good reminder to all of us why we were still here, because when the phone turned off after the lesson we walked over to the couch and just waited for dinner to come. Before, I would have loved to sit on the couch and not do anything. Now it's my worst nightmare. For whatever reason, however, I'm enjoying change. Maybe well needed. I was feeling stressed last night and this morning. Especially last night, my environment felt hectic. After a prayer that wasn’t all focused, I told myself, no feeling is final. I repeated that a few times as I fell asleep on my pillow. With all these changes, I feel a strange comfort. Matt Roberts sent me a really uplifting and interestingly-timed email. It read: Learning how to stay grounded with change like that is good for you though. It’s a lesson I think that is taught well on the mission and it really pays dividends after the mission. I think one of my better attributes (and yours) is being comfortable with discomfort. Some of that is due to our running, but uprooting a life in short notice and drastically shifting it somewhere else on the mission gets real. By the end of your mission (and in running) it seems like you actually are MORE comfortable with that kind of change and you welcome it. I certainly feel that. Maybe it's in my genes, as I hauled my tote up the staircase I flashed back to moving Pelican cases up a staircase in Corsicana on Cheer. My soul smiled, a foreshadowing for things to come. I read in Psalms to "be still, and know that I am God. Selah." Selah is a term they believe means a cue to increase the volume in the music or for the music to come in when the words go out. Be still, and know that He is God. Let the music go, and be quiet as He shapes you through trial, tribulation, and difficulty. It is ok to feel distressed, but we are not in despair. As Elder Ballard said, we will defeat the Coronavirus. This will be over eventually. Meanwhile, I will make this something I wouldn't trade. I'm living neutral; happy with the past, enjoying the present, excited for the future. Let everything happen to you. No feeling is final.
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Hello friends. We just got notification that we are not to go to any homes. We went through a list of members who haven't moved out due to the college being shut down, and there are 15 people left—between two sets of missionaries. We have so much spare time now and it's ok. This is setting up to be a fun and unusual transfer. Who knows? COVID-19 has us Quarantined in Colorado. I did get to talk to my family and it was super nice. Weird calling home on Saturdays now too. Well, the last week was strange. I guess I'll start with the drive down to my new assignment in Greeley, Colorado. I packed the rest of my stuff up and we sat around waiting for our ride. I sat, spending the last moments in a place that once was a reminder that I could never be comfortable, once was a place I found the deepest joy, once a place I found comfort and fullness, a place I began a turn of heart. It was honestly strange. It felt like the right time. Looking at God’s timing, it was. Much like how happy I am I left San Diego when I did, I am happy now. It was good timing. I spent so much time with Elder Laudie, it was amazing; however, over the past two days, I feel I just stepped out of a world. The world of Wyoming--of being around almost all the same missionaries for seven months. Now, I'm like, this is amazing. Not as if I like this place better than Casper, but it's nice to be with someone different, with a whole different zone. Colorado is a whole different vibe. On the bus, it was interesting to talk to people, I got to sleep for an hour. I enjoyed looking outside and just chilling. There were a dozen or so missionaries on the bus, getting on and off at the four major spots. However, when we stopped in Laramie, I saw someone, someone legendary. Elder Kelley said, "Elder Delgado is outside." No way! We got up and sprinted out of the bus. We talked and he was as good as ever. He told us he pulled some strings to be there. If you have ever watched a timelapse of a boat anchored in a bay, it is constantly moving directions according to the wind and the waves, yet stays centered. Similarly, we are asked to go with the flow, yet stay anchored to Christ. Getting off the bus in Greeley was one of those moments for me. Girls exist? Bro, I forgot about Birkenstocks and leggings. The Colorado flag looks super nice. What, Chipotle playing hippie music? I've never seen so many Subaru Outbacks. Really, though, I just felt the muscle of "come what be and love it" kick in. I began to fall in love with the place, the culture, and the people. Less so the people, though, seeing that everyone is inside. I love my companion. He is great. He is from Utah, super laid-back, but a diligent, hard worker. Easy to get along with, very workable. It has been a good time. Not only do I have a dope companion, but we live next door to two sets of elders and a third set on the floor beneath us. To make it even better, we have access to the Institute building (pool, ping-pong, foosball, etc.) and a car to get us there, plus the YSA sisters are there sometimes as well. This is the most social I've been on my mission. I am so happy I was sent here right before the quarantining happened, thus we had people in the apartment and stuff to do. Well, in an effort not to waste time last week, we went to Tom's home. He is a recent convert who was trying to dig out a basement underneath his house, which required excavating dirt nine feet deep, fifteen feet across, and sixty feet long. Man, he is determined and a hard worker. We got a big chunk of it done. I took the wheelbarrow runs and lifted loaded buckets. It was a good time, the most productive we've been. It's difficult with the Coronavirus to stay diligent. I don't know. It's the little rules. For example, we weren't back at our apartment before nine, or that we don't really time our lunches. The difficult part is you typically see how diligence leads to more work coming your way and just overall happiness. However, we just don't have anything to do. It's so strange. We spent some time writing up ideas for a podcast, looking at songs we could cover on the ukelele, and making a video to introduce us to the members of the ward (because we have yet to meet anyone since they're all home). That's the most productive we've been! When the work gets slow, you start slipping. Not like there is anything big, but small things. Conversations are far less about the gospel, the mood is casual, and everything seems just a little off. When I'm not thinking about the work, I'm thinking of something else. What's difficult is I don't know anything about the area or the people, so, like one does, I followed the lead of the guy who's been here longer. Missionary work is completely shifting; we no longer have a normal landscape. This is all new terrain, new tools, and a new time. I'm going to try to make personal study as best as possible, and keep myself grounded spiritually so I won't be rattled by the spare time or the fun times. Isn't it wild? You wish for cool people to hang out with and more spare time and are still not perfectly happy? Well, let's keep working hard to help others be happy, the purest joy one can have. I love you all. Stay safe.
Mr. Agguire once asked a 14-year-old me, do you believe in divine intervention? Not knowing what that was, I could not answer. Editor's Note: Mr. Agguire is the best 9th-grade humanities teacher in the United States of America. Divine aid is not some miracle. It seems that divine aid is readily available. It is the resource that comes from turning to Christ and watching, as one follows the commandments and lives His gospel, the miracle of watching truth play out in one’s life. It is not that the Lord alters reality for one's sake, it’s that one lives their life in accordance with the Creator. Thus, like a cheat manual, we see how living our life with the gospel breaks down barriers and removes self-created stumbling blocks. The miracle is already there, we must tap into it. This thought is incomplete, but what I know is that I have seen His hand in my life, and from what I've been able to witness, His hand never left. I just wasn't always able to see it. Anyway, it's the end of the transfer and I may be leaving soon. I really do love this place. Today I planned out our day and put a ton of people on our schedule who I wanted to say goodbye to on our last day in Casper. We walked outside and I looked up at the big, bare tree and thought, oh, I'm going to miss this. My heart swelled as we took the familiar left turn from the sidewalk, exiting our apartment onto 21st street. With all of that walking the past few months, I couldn't help but feel lovingly attached to everything I had come to love: the Casper winds, the trees, and especially Elder Laudie. I am changed, not in full, but I have improved, and I can thank the man I've spent exactly 200 days straight with, never being separated for more than 24-hours. We went to go visit S. I recently read the listening section of Preach My Gospel and I was reminded of the great blessings that come from listening. Not only are you blessed to know others more deeply, but one also gets the blessings of gifting others the chance to speak. I know that sounds horrible, but I do have a tendency to take over conversations, especially if I am passionate and feel others care less than I do. For example, Elder Laudie has expressed his feeling of not having anything to say when meeting with S. However, he brought up that he did have stuff to say, but I never gave him the time. I worked on that and oh, how much better life was. Neither of us dominated, we worked as a duo, and it was so much more powerful. We've been together so long that I know if he has a spiel on something, and I can hand it off, it'll be smooth like an ancient cobblestone road. I brought that metaphor up with Elder Laudie, and he said, "we fit together already, like cobblestone, but now, after thousands of years, we're smooth." As my mom would say, "booty so smooth, can't believe it's not butta." Since church was cancelled last Sunday, we went to the L.'s and had a wonderful sacrament. M. blessed it for the first time and passed it to me. It was so neat talking to them about how they felt because that day they each received their Patriarchal blessings, and M. received the Aaronic Priesthood and blessed the sacrament all in one day. They seemed so happy and full of light. Their countenance was totally changed! They were still them, just well-lit. And, as we all know, lighting changes everything. Today as we said goodbye, M. said, "no, really, what you guys have done has meant so much to me and my family. Like, really, I am so much happier; I have a different light in my life. I just have a different light. I wouldn't trade my life right now for anything; at some points in my life I would have chosen to go after those stupid things in life. Now, my life has a purpose." He began to tear up, he then said, "you suck man! Come here." I stood up and gave him a big hug. The words he said sunk deep in my heart. My eyes began to water. I looked out the window at the street signs I had once stared at to find out where I was; now I didn't even need them. A place that was strange and unfamiliar was now full of light and love, something I never understood I could feel for such a place in such short time. I love their family. I love Casper. I felt this way one other time. The week before I left for my mission, I had time to spend in San Diego, around Point Loma. Driving my car, I got my hair cut by Jade, ordered the number six at Surf Side Deli, ate a large 50/50 açaí bowl with almond butter from Northside, and a Veggie Supreme from Tommy's. I drove out to Joshua Tree. I went on one of my favorite runs: Cabrillo and Sunset Cliffs extended. I drove shirtless with the windows down in the sunshine. I remember thinking how much I loved (and whether I could live without) wrestling Gus, talking to my mom, watching movies with my dad, or hanging out with my sister. I wanted my friends to remember me, that when I came back, we'd come hang out. I gave my stuff to Miles and went to J Tree with MRKL. I wish I could tell myself then, this feeling of relishing the little things: Gus napping, not being able to find the Mini keys, wondering where Scout is, planning my runs, and the simple pictures on the wall were good. Remember these times, because they are absolutely treasured memories. However, don't forget, what you're sacrificing comes back ten-fold, even more. My relationships with these people here, my desire to hug every tree here and photograph every street sign-- I love this place, but, as my dad would say, leave 'em wanting more. Mr. Agguire, I do not know all things, however, I do know God loves His children. With that knowledge, I have witnessed small and simple experiences in which divine aid went unnoticed. If we could carry that feeling of peace and clarity that comes from walking out of the temple, or remember the feeling of being baptized; if we could remember the joy we've felt being closer together as a family or when an earnest prayer was answered, I think we could be more at peace in trying moments. We must use those good times to anchor our souls to what will bring us the most peace so that when those influences that lead us to unhappiness and restlessness come, they don’t have as much power. When we said goodbye to our final family today, I pulled up James 16:33. I told them to imagine a group of dedicated disciples, listening to Christ teach. He told them He was leaving and that they soon would suffer really difficult trials. However, Christ gives them this piece of advice: These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
First, let me apologize for not writing since Thursday; I went on exchanges with the zone leaders and I lost my phone Thursday night. It slipped under a chair and up inside a tear in the bottom so it was literally on the inside of the chair. They found it yesterday; luckily I was on exchanges in fifth ward and we were able to drive over there and get it. I guess I’ll start with Thursday. This is where a seriously intense few days began. In a recent blessing I was asked to seek after spiritual gifts, and the two that I came to the conclusion I needed to work on in the moment were humility and patience. Preach My Gospel defines patience as: "the capacity to endure delay, trouble, opposition, or suffering without becoming angry, frustrated, or anxious. It is the ability to do God’s will and accept His timing." It goes on to say: "You must be patient with all people, yourself included, as you work to overcome faults and weaknesses." These stuck out to me and I began to pray to be humble, accept His timing and understand that I needed His help. Shortly thereafter, my mind began getting really bad. Thoughts filled with hatred towards others filled my mind, and self-destructive and discouraging ideas seemed to box out any real space for happiness and my own personality to flourish. Especially in the mornings, I could hardly think straight. For example, this morning, I was on exchanges with Elder Hamblin. Elder Hamblin is such a cool guy. He is funny, he is someone who is confident in himself and there is nothing but good in his heart. I knew I should work out after brushing my teeth, but I looked at the bed and thought, I know I can overcome it, logically, but my mind doesn't always seem to be in my control. I fell back asleep. I had a strange dream in which I was asked to drive to go visit my family. In the dream I told the mission president I wasn’t happy and that's what he told me to do. Driving with a zone leader I had last transfer, I drove down in a Toyota Rav 4, the most common mission vehicle, to a place that looked like Saint George, Utah. I played around outside till I found my family in a long, sleek modern summer home on this strange valley cliffside. I got there and Gus was there! I spent the majority of my time playing and wrestling Gus, which was awesome! We ran up and down in the house and I wrestled him on the couch till he cuddled with me; amazing. Eventually, after avoiding the topic, I started speaking with my mom. Somehow, I was wearing Grandpa Whiteley's old cowboy hat and my mom asked me, "so, why aren’t you happy?" I responded, "well, I'm unhappy because I don’t share much about myself with other people. I ask a lot of questions. But I don't really talk about what makes me happy." I woke to the sound of someone getting out of the bathroom, my cue to get ready. This dream really bothered me. In the shower, my mind spiraled and I felt incapable of any action but deep unrest and sadness. Slowly, I got the day started. Very reluctantly, I told Elder Hamblin about the dream; I mentioned it jokingly, but he was like, "whoah, that's deep." During the district prayer meeting, I jokingly mentioned the dream to everyone and they thought it was funny. All of the sudden, this miracle occurred: I wasn't sad. It bothered me, but it wasn't the end of the world. I was no longer spiraling; I aired out the pain. Thinking back to that blessing from Elder DeRemer, I remembered that the Lord has put these friends and family in my life at this time for a reason and I need to reach out to them. I need to reach out in complete honesty. I learned that in a wonderful expression of kindness last Thursday during comp inventory. I had had a really rough week and didn’t know what to do. During comp inventory, I felt I should reach out and properly thank Elder Laudie for all he has done for me. I told him I was having a bad week and I really appreciated how he was such a hard worker even when I was down and specifically thanked him for the time he had asked if anything was wrong, I said I was tired, and he said if I wanted to talk about it I could. It had uplifted my spirits so much, even if I didn't talk, it had just helped me. I thanked him for that specifically and a big smile came across his face. I asked what was up and he said, "it's funny you mention that, I almost just started yelling at you like 'ok, we’re going to talk about this. What did I do to make you stop talking to me? How can I fix it? Let's get this out.' I wanted to just fix it, you know, that's my natural reaction.” I chuckled, “I'm glad you didn’t do that, that wouldn't have ended well. You handled it with a lot of maturity and patience. I'm really happy you’re my companion. You've done so much good for me.” He started smiling again. I asked why. “What was that word you used?” “What?” I asked. “P-. P-.” I said, “I don’t know, what is it?” “Patience,” he said. “Every companion has told me I needed to work on that.” I told him he had certainly done a lot. Sometimes expressing what makes you happy to others can help you be happy (@mydream). I do not hope perfectly, but my hope is in something perfect. I know I can be redeemed from the difficulty and sadness I sometimes feel. We are not perfect, nor are we asked to be perfect immediately, but we are asked to strive to be complete and whole. However, while we are yet incomplete we will make many mistakes. We will throw a basketball off of the face of our companion or fall asleep when we shouldn't. These efforts are not wasted. Elder Hamblin gave an example, saying that he does things imperfectly and prays, saying something along the lines of: "If I could go back, I would approach this differently, but I can't and this is all I got. Can you help me and take this offering of my best effort?" I thought back to that morning, where I went back to sleep when my mind was in a blender and I felt depressed and unhappy, not thinking straight. I felt bad that I had not done a workout or something productive. Honestly, that was the best I could give, and the Lord took it and made something great. It was a great day, and I've learned and can do better. Elder Hamblin and I did service the next morning and I had relaxed by then and was making jokes and having fun. It was really nice. After we helped this old lady move, we did our work. Next, we went to lunch at Jersey Mike's (shout out to Jaden Rosenthal). Afterward, we were in the car and he was telling me about the past companions he had had. He was telling me about the different experiences and what he learned from them. I said, "hey, can we keep having this conversation, just while we are going to the person's home?" He said of course and we continued to have a great conversation. He told me that he had a lot of special assignments, which is when the mission president assigns you a companion who is difficult, for any number of reasons, and you are asked to help them. He had a few of those and he said he learned a lot. I admire his patience and love for the people around him, plus he is extremely knowledgeable about the gospel. He really loves God and loves others. After we worked throughout the evening, we went back to the apartment and started exchange inventory, where we discuss how it went. We talked for a long time. It was really cool. At one point, he began a thought and got a little off track till he brought up an idea he had about consecration. This really comforted me, and I told him it's what I needed to hear. I told him I really admired him as a person and as a missionary. He told me he wanted to go through my strengths. He told me that he really appreciated my work ethic. How, for example in the parking lot, I don't just want to be obedient, but on the ball. He told me not to lose that. He asked me what I would do if I got a lazy companion. I told him that I didn't know, obviously I would want to work, but I don't know what it's like to drag people. He said it is really hard, and it's tiring. He had sometimes caved to those people. You can do it for a little bit, but it's tiring and difficult to keep up. I told him I knew what he meant. I told him that recently, I've been really tired. It's just been long, and it's been hard. I love the work, but recently I've just been unhappy. He told me he totally understood. He said there were three moments on his mission he could say he was truly happy. Working in the spirit is tough. Thursday, I told Elder Laudie I was having a really difficult time. I told him that after the blessing, I had had maybe the best week ever in terms of my mind, and I was hoping, almost expecting it to stay. It didn’t, and it really hurt. I told him that I knew I might have to deal with this for the next 50 some-odd years, and it’s really scary, so it had been weighing on my soul. He didn’t know what to say, he sat there a little squeamish. I thanked him for listening and said that he didn’t have to completely understand. He said, “no, I just don’t want you to talk about it and then go back into it.“ Little does he know, I’m always feeling it, it always hurts. I’m just really good at hiding it. However, like in my dream, I need to talk to people. When I told him this, I felt real relief from my anxiety. I told him it really helped me to talk about it. I know he doesn’t understand almost anything I’m going through, at least on this side of things, but just being a listening ear can make a world of difference. Elder Laudie didn’t believe mental health was real before he left on his mission. He told me that he has come to understand the reality of it through past companions and experiences with other people on his mission. He really had the right response with me. If you ever want to help someone with mental health struggles, don’t ask, “hey, are you ok?” That's not a bad thing to ask, but most people are "just tired." Giving an undeniable window of support allows for them to flush out their feelings and, when ready, talk. And when they come, just listen. This is true for all trials, but especially this one. I have seen, just in the short time I've been on my mission, the immense change that has taken place within me. President Palmer told me that he wants my friends and family to spend personal time with me now, and see the person I've become, but that would be even more true at the end of the two years. This meant a lot to me. We had a really uplifting conversation, something I really needed. I felt relieved, not necessarily of the difficulty of the challenge, but of the loneliness. Driving back with Elder Hamblin, I told him about the time my MTC group was flying out to Fort Collins. I told him how those missionaries made me feel sad and like I could never be a good missionary and still be myself. Then, I had driven up with Elder Asher and realized how cool he was and how he was an amazing missionary. This was a kid I could strive to be like and be happy. After our really good discussion about how hard missions are and how tiring and unhappy they can be, and how worthwhile and outstanding they are for your personal development, I felt so much better. I didn’t overshare, but I was open, and he understood and empathized with my experience. Truly, Elder DeRemer’s blessing was true: these friends have been put here for a reason and I should trust them and reach out to them. After, Elder Hamblin said, “I'm so glad you're real. Keep that, because people need it.”
Almost every interview I have had with President Palmer, he has told me "you and Elder Laudie are together for a reason." He didn’t say that this time. Also, at the end of Elder Laudie’s interview and before mine, all three of us spoke. He told us, “every transfer, the likelihood of you staying together gets lower." He told us he is unsure because he has yet to inquire of the Lord, but he has a strong feeling that we will be splitting up. Though Elder Laudie and I were saddened to hear this, I felt that this was inspired. Something had been accomplished and it was time for Elder Laudie and I to move on. Elder Kelley later told me that President said the dynamics in the district were going to change. One of those events I felt I witnessed today as I watched Elder Laudie baptize M. Sitting to my left, the rest of M.'s family. Behind me, the A's. The R's, the H's, and the L's filled the rows following. The spirit was so powerful throughout the meeting. In zone conference, it was mentioned that we shouldn't just play background music while the people are changing into dry clothes after being baptized, but to have people speak. Right before it started, Elder Laudie leaned over and asked, "what do you want to do while we are changing?" Not wanting to put people on the spot and feeling no particular way about the subject knowing it was last minute, I said I didn't have an opinion. He asked who I thought should speak. I didn't think anyone in particular, so I didn't have an answer. He asked, "do you think we should do it?" I expressed my feelings that it was a little late, but Elder Laudie said he was going to invite people. M.'s wife gave the first talk. It was wonderful. She cried speaking of her husband and his depth of character. She told of the tide he had been swept up in, not knowing if he would be able to get out. Now, he had the opportunity to be out. I looked over at her husband and he was emotional, even brought to tears. It was so touching; someone who is usually so reserved being moved to express powerful emotion. He was baptized, and she said, "wow, only one take." I laughed. Anyway, I just felt this strange sense of completion as I sat with people I could call friends. I could call them friends not just because we knew each other, but because we had been vulnerable and supported each other in the task of trying to be like Christ. I have felt spent, in the most delightsome way, in this area. Not to say I am burnt out or bored, but I have felt much like I do in the middle of a long workout: absolutely exhausted, but ready to give it my all again because I love the reward, even the pain, just too much. M. came out and sat down. Elder Laudie told me that he had had an interesting one-on-one with him after they changed in which he admitted that this was the first time he had walked on tile barefoot since prison, and it brought back flashbacks. He said, "but that's done now; I'm putting that behind me. It's all new from here."
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