I had a great day today. I spent the day in Yuma, Colorado, a small town two hours east of Greeley. I had a great exchange review with a missionary in which I expressed to him my assessment of what I believed he was struggling with and he said it was spot on. We talked about it. The only way I could have known is if it was what I had gone through and struggled with myself —and still do. I spent the day admiring the strange wonders that scatter the various corners and cracks of this peculiar town. My companion looked very strangely at me as I put my phone up to the glass of a sketchy Asian cuisine fish tank, the bottom of a poorly painted door, a beat up mailbox, a rock outside the church, a mask sign, a wrench on a barbecue, or a sunset on a drive. However, these objects, when framed, can be made magnificent. One simply must organize them. He even said, "you have an insanely creative mind." I appreciated that. Anyway, I think I've still been struggling with depression. Not horrible, but I'm in my head a little. Today, I felt pretty down on myself. In leadership meeting, I made a few zany comments and got a few laughs. I really was just expressing my thoughts, but there came a point, as always, that I felt a disconnect between how I felt and how people perceived my words -- and that is such a lonely and hopeless feeling. As I had my hands in my head, I could tell, as Pops Staples says, "somebody was a watchin’." President Palmer gave a wonderful Zone Conference training. But first...I'm going to rewind to yesterday. We are rolling out "T3AM," which is an effort to create high-quality videos of converts and get every missionary companionship to get three families in their ward to share it. I've interviewed Truk, Tom, and now get to interview Elder Cibart. In an effort to get a clean background, I put Elder Cibart’s chair on a table, which required me to put the tripods on a table, which then required me to sit on a table so he wasn’t looking down. It was quite the Jerry-rigged production. The lighting was really nice; I can get behind those muted church windows. Over the course of the interview, we were predictably skimming stories and events in his life or just talking about his coming to know very simple doctrine. Both were good, but it lacked him—it lacked his emotion. As I sat there, this idea had been stewing in my mind. There was a reconciliation of opposites. One being Elder Cibart's conviction for the gospel and two, his family not joining the church with him. As he learns more, I wondered if it deeply saddens him to experience this joy without them. I waited. Then, there was a pause. Everything felt right and I did not hesitate. I asked, "how do you reconcile the doctrine of eternal families with your family not joining the gospel?" It came out with such fluidity. His answer was powerful and full of sincerity. Along with some other beautiful words, his answer went something like "I trust in God. I know if I do my part, God will take care of the rest. And I have seen my family change and grow closer together since I've joined the church. I've seen my mom change. I know that God will take care of them as I do my part." He then said, "it's so important to share the gospel; it’s vital. We can't just sit stagnant on this good news!" The room flooded with the spirit. He closed, "When I found the gospel, it was as if I went from seeing black and white to color." His interview changed me. Now, back to Zone Conference. Elder Cibart stands. He says, "yesterday, Elder Whiteley asked me a poignant question in an interview. I'm sure a lot of you also struggle with this, so that's why I'll share it. He asked me how I teach about families while my family are not members of this church. I didn't know I knew the answer. The answer that came out of me reassured me. It helped me sleep more at peace knowing that those souls I hold close are going to be alright." I then stood. I thanked Elder Cibart for his words. I told of how I used to hate missionaries. I despised the aesthetic. But as I grew and served with them, I learned to love them. I told how I saw the Lord work through me to bless others and that I learned that God works through the people He's chosen to be around us, even though they may be imperfect. I then stated how much I've come to love these people. I closed saying, "if you want to know an artist, look at their art. If you want to know a photographer, look at their photos. If you want to know God, look at His children." President Palmer got up and said, "thank you all for your testimonies. He talked for a little and then said, "isn’t Elder Whiteley wonderful? He sure is unique and strange, but that's the beauty of life. He has some amazing qualities." That meant so much to me. It calmed a sea of doubt. Diversity beautifies the culture. While taking photos at the temple and lining up the shot, President took the brief moment when I handed him his phone back to say, "you're a good man, Elder Whiteley. Really. You know that?" I said "thank you, that means a lot." As I contemplated that statement, I realized I had ignored the question. Do I know that? Later, I sat down for personal study amidst some lingering anxieties. Having a lot of anxiety about certain expectations, I shifted my focus to something I could do: the plan I'd set to read Joseph Smith History. Joseph describes unwarranted persecution much like mental health challenges...ever-persistent and often merciless. He describes how these challenges came to him from the outset, being only "an obscure boy." As I jumped from footnote to footnote, stories of David and the Philistine, Paul testifying before King Aggripa, Nephi killing Laban, and many others, I saw the hand of the Lord work. It gave me peace and hope. God works through our trials. He is our Father. Redeemer means that which brings redemption to our trials, replacing sorrow for joy. Hold out faithful and fear not, for God is with us.
0 Comments
As you probably know, I am exhausted. I have a burning desire to write, but I am just exhausted. I promise I'll catch up. I'll give this one highlight. Texting President Palmer about a few things, he ended the exchange with, "by the way, I love the Elder Two Potato post!" That made me really happy. You can tell me you love me, but nothing says I love you like taking the time to view and appreciate my work. I never feel more understood than when someone says, "I feel this photo...I know exactly how this feels." They have that spark in their eye, that excitement that says, "I am understood!" One of the best compliments I've ever been given is from Neil Montesano. Looking through my senior year photography project book from the Philippines, amidst a bustling crowd, he took me aside and said, "this is exactly how it felt for me to grow up in these style of neighborhoods. It just says it all." Of course, I have a long way to go as a photographer, but I felt so complete that day. I was able to interview Tom today. Using three tables, two folding chairs, a primary chair, two tripods, three phones, a muted window, and a white wall, the shot looked great. Though the other elders were poking fun at my specificity, they ended up being very complimentary of the look at the end. It looked really good. After he finished, I invited the few of those who were there to share how they felt during his testimony. The response by both parties was fantastic and a feeling of unity and love was present. Though I didn't need to talk during the shoot, I felt I directed the room. I was not dominating, I was directing. I was directing a feeling, and capturing it. Recently, I've been really down on myself. I go in cycles. My dad was talking to me about his struggles being away from the family for work and it struck me how, like me, he also has to deal with administrative duties, staying focused, helping people motivate and do all the little things over a seriously long amount of time away from home. I brought this up to him and he said the mission is still the most temporally difficult thing he has done in his life. He also told me a story of how he carried his white handbook with him every single day of his mission except one. Some elders were sleeping over at their place in preparation for Henry B. Eyring to come and speak at the mission. Those elders poked fun at my dad for being overly obedient and too much of a stickler, pointing out the carrying of his handbook. To avoid heckling, the next day he decided to not bring it. In the meeting, Elder Eyring called him out saying, "Elder Whiteley?" He stood. "Do you have your handbook on you?" He said no. Elder Eyring, caught off guard (prior to the meeting the mission president had probably informed Elder Eyring that Elder Whiteley never forgot to bring his handbook) then said, "well, if you did have it, what would this section say about this?" Today, I went on exchanges with another missionary. He is a nice kid and really seeks camaraderie. I was fairly indifferent during the exchange. I don't know why. He's nice, but I was tired, and sometimes I'm less inclined to make the effort. However, during exchange review, I felt a switch flip I hadn't felt flip in awhile. The prompting was subtle, and I almost missed it. I wasn't as in tune because I wasn't focusing on it as I should have earlier. However, now that I was listening, I heard, and acted. I asked a question about what he was struggling with. I sat and waited. I was silent at the right times, I spoke at the right time with words of comfort and direction, and I felt guided by the spirit. He began crying and he said he really needed it. I was glad to help unlock a little emotional knot. Often, the reservoir of our divinity is dammed by our unwillingness to love ourselves. To quote the Beastie Boys, "let it flow - let yourself go." During General Conference, President Nelson talked a lot about faith. "Increased faith" would be the answer to any challenge we face. The word faith has always been pretty meaningless to me, but one of the invitations President Nelson gave was to study what miracles were. I read his talk, then I pulled up the footnotes. I studied every reference looking for the connection between faith and miracles. In every reference, three elements were mentioned: belief, action, and then a miracle. In this order, we see how to increase faith. Believe, take action, and one will see miracles. Just in the short time I've been studying faith and miracles, I've seen my mind opened and my appreciation for faith grow beyond what I knew was possible—or necessary. Today, we were worried that a person we have been teaching for a while was not going to accept the invitation to follow the Word of Wisdom even though he was so close. We sat down with him, and in the conversation, he mentioned how much he loved D&C 89, a chapter he previously hated. I was reluctant to give it to him because of his previous indignation towards this section. He told us, "the spirit hit me so hard reading this section." He told us he was going to follow the Word of Wisdom and had a set plan. Seeing our surprise, he said, "You do have a positive influence. Sometimes we wonder if we have an impact on the world. Throughout these many visits, I have been changed! I've had so much fun! Doing my homework and then coming here and expanding our views on these scriptures has been amazing." "You have a positive impact. You do. Even if you do not realize it, the people you serve do. Everything you do leaves traces of goodness."
It's difficult to describe the type of exhaustion I feel right now. I simply have not stopped in so long. It's been especially busy these past few days and it has not yet ceased. Transfers, Zone Meeting, Weekly Planning, and General Conference interspersed with proselyting and striving to help the people we are teaching progress and prepare for Conference -- all while attempting to iron out logistical snafus. All along the way, I've been experiencing extreme growth spiritually and mentally as I've been racing a fairly difficult part of this course called my mission. I was still in high school when my friend Kimo came home from his mission and gave a devotional in our seminary class. He said, "it feels like it was forever ago...almost like it never happened." I was like, "you got back three days ago!! You know how long two years is??" Today was a really good day. Elder Edwards told me today that he has yet to have a bad day this transfer. He told me he's really enjoyed it. The snow fell hard these past few days. Yesterday it dumped two feet of snow and we shoveled a lot. As we did, we talked to people, offering help. Out of the four people we shoveled, we got three return appointments and gave Books of Mormon to the other. It was really fun. It was good to be out in sunglasses and a t shirt in the sun and snow. I am so thankful to have my new birthday sunglasses from mom. It feels so much better. Other than that, these weeks are flying by. I hit P-days like driving blocks and months pass like miles. The farther I go, the faster it blows by. Though each step may feel similar, the entirety of it feels as it were but a dream. President Palmer called last week and told Elder Edwards he would be moving him to Douglas. He told him he was going there to work hard and influence those missionaries, and that he would see great fruits from so doing. He then told me, "Elder Whiteley, you're going to be staying in Greeley. Your comp is going to be Elder Ramos." I was shocked. I asked, "President...are you lying?!" He assured me otherwise. He told me he wasn't exactly sure the specifics of why he thinks we should be there, but it was for a purpose. Elder Ramos has brought an electric and new side to life here. He thinks about the gospel in a very open-minded way, willing to leave loose ends loose when sufficient answers must be reached by stretching or assumption. He is also from San Diego and shares my love for that place and the culture that shaped parts of our understanding and tuned our proclivities. We consistently discuss speculative doctrine, however, it is clear that we both have a burning desire to not "look beyond the mark." After transfer doc came out, everyone I talked to mentioned how crazy it was that we were to be companions. The entire mission seemed to be watching us. Because we get along so well, a potential problem I foresee in our companionship is losing the skills we have learned on our mission to use inclusive vocabulary and reach out to others to really understand them -- even those with whom we may not agree or be on the same wavelength. Recently Elder Edwards and I went out to Fort Morgan and I was able to go on exchanges with Elder Dickinson! Elder Dickinson was my Zone Leader in Longmont while I was really struggling out there. After a good day, we sat down and he told me that he saw me in Nebraska at Zone Conference and he could tell something was different. Then, when I came down to Greeley, he said he was amazed at how I'd changed. He said, "you didn’t need to say anything or do anything, I could see in your countenance the difference. You balanced those things in your life and centered them on that Christlike target we're all aiming for." That meant so much to me. Remembering that time in my mission when I was struggling so deeply, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for the reminder of this truth I am so quick to forget: God works through me, even through my weakness. I often act like Enoch, who cried to God, "Why is it that I have found favor in thy sight, and am but a lad, and all the people hate me; for I am slow of speech; wherefore am I thy servant?" God responded, telling Enoch, "Go forth and do as I have commanded thee, and no man shall pierce thee. Open thy mouth, and it shall be filled, and I will give thee utterance, for all flesh is in my hands, and I will do as seemeth me good." Going forth is one of my favorite principles. In Longmont I was at a real low point in my mission. Quarantine and tons of reassigned missionaries had everyone scrambling. Though I failed to see it, I was struggling some of the most in my mission with simple disobedience. What no one saw was the medication I was taking for the first time, how it ruined my appetite and I didn't eat consistently, and how I was losing my mind in that apartment in Fredrick. I was loved by my leaders, Elder Dickinson and Elder Mestre, even though, on paper, I did not feel like I deserved it. At a district council yesterday, someone from my Longmont district gave a training. I was sure she saw a lot of my shortcomings in Longmont. However, during her training (which was prepared without the knowledge that I would be there), she said, "always ask people...why? Actually, that's something you taught me in Longmont, Elder Whiteley." Though she probably forgot she even said it, that struck me so deeply. I made an impact on someone. Someone saw how I struggled and still saw the good. Not only did they see it, but it actually moved them. I cared about helping that district so much. A few weeks ago, we asked a pair of elders how we could better minister to a struggling missionary in our area. They asked, "do you love him?" I said, "no, not really. I like him, but I don't know if I love him." Since then, I've been working on that love; noticing the feelings that may be there instead of that love and how I can change. As I strive to see people in a new light, I've seen them more for their potential and less for their shortcomings. I had a comp study with him later where I learned about his anxiety and self-consciousness and the intensity of the difficulty he faced. It was moving. I had fun and laughed with him too. After that, I realized how my failing to see the divine in someone is a sign of a warped lens. We can all be shaped to be better and see each other more clearly. No one is ordinary.
There are no surface level problems. Always ask why. Ask what, change behavior. Ask why, change hearts. |
|