A friend from home recently told me he loved the blog and could see through my mind and heart the challenges I faced and how I wrestled with the questions that never go away. That was such a kind and thoughtful compliment. This got me thinking about those "questions that don’t go away." I often find that my mind will hold fast to one moment, either in the past or in the future, and I will stress and linger on it, so much so it distracts me from the moment God has given me. The words of President Monson rang true when he urged us to, "Learn from the past; prepare for the future; live in the present." Often, we ignore the call to change, as King Noah did in the story of Abinidi, because we fear the pain that will come from changing. Humility is not easy. When a missionary enters the mission, they have what is called draft night. Church buildings' chapels are typically organized into two side rows and a main middle row. All the newbies sit in the right pews and the trainers on the left pews. They announce the Greenie's name, then name their trainer, and they meet in the middle and sit down together. It's going to be a very strange draft night tomorrow. Sitting on the left row will be missionaries who served anywhere from one day to 18 months in a foreign mission, anywhere around the world. Further, they had two or three weeks at home released from being a missionary, so they got to enjoy all the old stuff they used to love and see their families. They had to say goodbye a second time. They will wake up in their childhood bedroom tomorrow morning and go to sleep quarantined and back in mission life. It's going to be a completely new change. The people on the right are going to be missionaries who are still learning how to use technology effectively as a missionary tool, expected to train missionaries who didn't have a phone on their missions--well, maybe a Nokia. I'll be sitting on the right row and my companion, and the rest of the group, will have chosen to not only stay out on a mission, but to accept a whole new mission. They have to relearn everything. An important lesson I need to constantly remember is that people hate being micromanaged and bossed around. I need to be genuine and respect this kid and his ambitions as much, if not more, than mine. Working together will cause great things to happen. I can't wait to work with this kid. I'm really, really hoping he’s cool since there will be a lot more time to socialize because of quarantine. Also, I just threw away a full, a two-thirds-full, and a quarter-way-full series of leftover lasagna trays. We got it five nights in a row and then some -- and they give us a ton each time. It ripped the garbage bag. Our fridge was overflowing and it now only has a La Croix and jam. I was extremely nervous about who my next comp would be. So many unknowns: what is his attitude towards his reassignment? How long has he been out? Was it hard on him to have gone home to his family and normal life only to be reassigned to a whole new version of missionary work? To make the moment more stressful, we are in quarantine, so we will be around them a lot. And I will be the senior comp, basically training them how to do missionary work in our mission. A lot of unknowns were running through my head, and I'm glad that Elder Smith put joggers on (meaning he would go outside to watch me run). I put on my shoes and ran back and forth across the parking lot as he walked out to the lake, and I ran around the lake while he burrito-ed in his blanket under the Colorado flag. I ran eight miles this morning. I was nervous. What if this guy won’t go out and run with me or gets super angry at me? My imagination ran as much as I did. Finally, they gave my name and I went and hugged my companion, Elder Morgan. Where are you from? Temecula. Where did you serve? Philippines. Where are you from? San Diego. Fun fact? I've spent time in Cebu! The island he served on was just west of Cebu. We bounced around, got the phones figured out so we no longer had five, and loaded up. We were talking and it was nice. He seemed really cool. Elder Morgan is an extra mile kind of guy, and really easygoing. A wonderful combination. Hard working and flexible. We got back to the apartment and began talking. We spent an hour exchanging stories on the Phillipines and So Cal. I could connect and understand what he talked about, and I think it was a nice taste of familiarity in a very unfamiliar situation. I talked about how it was weird to deal with the stigma of wearing a nametag and tie and how I would get yelled at and stuff. When we were walking into Walmart, he said, "the last time I was in Walmart, I saw missionaries. Now, I am one." He said he noticed how differently people looked at him and how strange it felt. I immediately connected with him and talked about my own experiences adapting, especially in Wyoming. I knew I liked him when I asked him if he watched Nathan For You and he said yes. I was so happy. No one in this mission has seen that show. It was so nice to just connect. It really seems like we were meant to be companions. I have relaxed in a way I have never relaxed before on my mission. Not in terms of the work, though I will get to how that has changed, but in terms of our down time. Saying my prayers the first night with Elder Morgan, I felt overwhelmed with how much the Lord had completely prepared me. He truly forged me to be ready for this. I have been humbled and forgone my pride in where I come from, and now, I can enjoy that perspective without relying on it. Further, in a time of uncertainty for Elder Morgan, I can be a confidante. We are in the same boat on so many levels, maybe not on the same side, but in the same boat. That night, we talked for hours. We began comp study at 7:30. We read a little and then we started talking about the Philippines and San Diego. I was able to actually talk and not have some strange argument or tension. In the past, I would say something and my comps would correct me, and now my comp understands and even builds off what I say. It is more difficult to have someone who has a completely different perspective, and it's nice during this time to not worry about contention. There are no topics I have to tiptoe around. I have shared—and talked—more with this guy than any of my previous companions. Elder Morgan talked about how different it was to be a missionary in the states, and the different problems he would face. The stigma of a name tag is difficult to deal with; in the Philippines, anyone was ecstatic to talk to you. Here, people look at you a certain way and think they know you. Just by what you wear, you are defined in their eyes. Lessons I learned in Casper, when no one understood. But now, I get to help someone who is in the same boat as me. Not only to be a missionary here, but to love being a missionary here. On Sunday, we drove to the church. While on WiFi I attempted to recover last week's missing photos from Google Drive. The administration of the Sacrament was about to commence, and I was trying to hustle to start the download. I decided to set it to the side and focus on what was important. As I did, I felt my anxiety, not as a force, but as a presence. It was no longer a controlling factor, but a splash of food coloring in a pool. I could decide to be angry and tumultuous till the food coloring leaves, or I could be still, and let the pool cleaner of the Atonement take care of it when the time comes. As I sat there and saw this shift in perspective, I took the Sacrament. Now, with the water still enough I could see the problem, I asked for strength to overcome it. Specifically, I prayed that the promise of peace given to me in a blessing bestowed by Elder Morgan would take action. Immediately, yet subtly, my spirit grew—in peace and confidence. No, not confidence in myself, but confidence in God. He directs my path and shows me where to find strength. I sat there, and, like I do during most group prayers, I observed others. As I looked around at the seven 18 to 21 year-old kids around me, all of them, in their unique way, were reaching out to God. Though my views are obstructed, being a biased, judgmental person, to some degree, I began to see them as God saw them: kids trying. They were earnestly trying to be good and reach out to God. One had his face in in his palms. The other sat staring at his palms, in deep thought. Another, ferociously wrote in her journal. One changed from an anxiously moving leg to meditating, hands in the lap, breathing steadily. Two others were praying. I sat and basked in peace as my internal journey became an external journey. I saw them, even for a moment, as God did, just a little. They were so beautiful in their efforts to turn to Him, and look for ways to reach out in their problems. Hosanna means to send help now. All, were lifting up hosannas to the Lord, in the unique ways they could. They were burying no talents, but investing it all. Great peace washed over me, and I was happy. Which is why I was nervous when we received a call from the APs. We answered, and I asked what I did wrong. "Where do you want me to start?" he asked jokingly. He informed us that we would be splitting up—this Thursday—and both be receiving reassigned missionaries. He also asked if I was willing to be district leader. Earlier that day, I told Elder Morgan that I would be surprised, but not really, if he got a reassigned missionary because he is so capable. Well, I was right. The APs informed us that President trusts Elder Morgan and I a lot. He knows of our capabilities and knows we are fit for the challenge. I was happy to have such a fun assignment and be trusted by President to take care of good people, but I was sad to leave Elder Morgan. The SD/Philippines crew disbands in two days' notice. That's ok. We'll be living right next door to each other. I had one companion for seven months, now I'll have four companions in two months. Elder Garrison and Elder Williams actually expressed their positive feelings toward having an excuse to call us. They said they enjoyed us. That actually made me feel really good. These APs are honest and just great people. Coach Chuck once told me, never give a compliment you don’t mean. I've been honest in my effort ever since.
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I woke up this morning and got ready to run. Elder Smith was super tired, but he still got up and dressed. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket and started walking the 300 meter walk to the lake. I ran in the parking lot as he walked. As I ran around the lake, he lay down and watched basketball highlights. I was extremely grateful he was selfless enough to come out and watch me. When I opened my phone last week, I was insanely surprised to see the number 20 written above the email icon. I opened it and there were 20 emails from my mom -- photos from my memory box. Most included pictures I drew when I was a kid, like my dad and I playing catch. It's funny how the things you love really do stay the same. I've been reading about an enslaved king who desires to find a long lost people who'd left the kingdom years before. He sends some strong men to go try to find them, but they don't exactly know where they went, so they don't know the way. They wander for forty days until they finally find it. When they arrive they are bound, captured and put in jail for two days. Then, finally, they are able to meet the king. They wandered for forty days. The number forty is often accompanied with change. In the process of wandering, seemingly directionless and still learning the land, they changed. The process changed them. Then, there were the last two days; the last 10% of the project, the most difficult to finish. As David Sedaris said, "I want a story that finishes; it doesn't just end." Creating something new is a transformative process in which we must bring our best, but the last part of the project, if not completed, won't do you any good. Be willing to wander, be willing to be scared, like you don't know where the road leads. Lately I've been asking myself: how have my long wandering trials helped me overcome a future unseen challenge? What's one I am going through currently? Once the king interviews his prisoners, he realizes he is actually being rescued and his trial is nearing the end. He tells his people the news, he gives them hope that soon this may be lifted. However, he says there is still an effectual struggle to be made. Effectual means to have a specific effect. Therefore, it means that they will still have a struggle that matters, that will get them somewhere. Sometimes, in the light of a struggle being lifted, we forget that that struggle had a purpose, and when the next struggle comes it is not the end of joy. We must have effectual struggles, struggles that truly have an effect on us. This struggle was brought upon the king's people because of their transgressions and had the purpose of humbling them. The burden wasn't lifted, but they were made strong enough to carry it. Much like running, when we start to run, it feels extremely difficult. As you continue to get better at running, it doesn't become easier to run. The effort is still great, but putting in the effort becomes natural, almost second nature. You become a new creature... ...desiring to run and loving it.
There is a line in a Headspace episode where he says not to chase the cars, but to sit and watch them. There is a point in the meditation where he says to listen to the noises around you, do not reach to them, but let them come to you. Lately, I have treated life a lot like that. I'm not reaching for the noise, I'm simply sitting quietly and preparing myself for whatever comes. This week my dad shared a clip with me from David Sedaris' Masterclass where he said: "one day, everything will be funny." Today was long, hardly any outside time with the way we scheduled lessons. We finished personal study and I just asked for strength and peace. None came, but I felt to go to the scripture Miles recommended, Alma 36. It's a chapter he sent me that he said he liked. Barely able to focus, my mind was calmed as I read the third verse: "And now, O my son, behold, thou art in thy youth, and therefore, I beseech of thee that thou wilt hear my words and learn of me; for I do know that whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day." Sometimes, I just get on myself about not doing enough. It is good to look at what one can improve, but constantly being critical is self-defeating, and defeating to those around you. I shouldn't be focusing on what I'm not doing, but what I can do. Often, missionaries spend most of their energy attempting to fill a bucket, to know they worked enough not to feel guilty. Spoiler: the bucket will never be filled. Rather, we must think of it like an empty canvas, ready to be magnified. The painting can be made beautiful, with whatever paints one is given that day. Don't compare day to day, because, as Elder Uchdorf said, "comparison is the thief of joy." These times -- they're not the end. This is the beginning of great. Something I forgot to mention last week was the good that happened! First, halfway through our studies, Elder Seamons received a call. The voice on the other line said, "hey this is K.! I was just driving around town and wondered if you guys needed anything?" K. is a friend of the bishop. The bishop told us a week ago that K. had seen us walking around the apartment complex and saw it as a sign he needed to meet with us. He's been really thinking about God and would love to talk. Additionally, he told us he owns a large company. He is building a rich man’s playground type property just north of the apartment complex and he is staying here temporarily while his home is being finished. He told us that if we ever need anything, to call him and that his property was always there for us to use. I want to remind everyone that we have neither met nor seen this person before. He was incredibly kind. Elder Seamons told him we go on a lot of walks, and asked if we could walk around the lake on his property. He said for sure, and Elder Seamons asked him if there was any fishing in the pond. He said that there was and that we were more than welcome to bring fishing stuff, and if we didn't have equipment, he'd take us and fit us out. Not knowing we had a car, he told us he has four cars in his driveway, so if we ever need to take one, he probably wouldn't notice. He was really genuine. Feeling a little strange because he already has seven guys working full-time on the property, we asked him if he needed anything. Here's where I wondered if this call could get any better. As if he was spying on us he said, "Is there anything that I need help with? Hm. Are any of you into photography or videography?" When he said that I could not believe it. My smile was huge. He told us he was getting married and the photographer had cancelled. He had a really nice camera I could use and would love for me to do it. I could not believe my ears. I told him I had helped shoot two weddings and I would love to do his. I still am in shock, and I'm stoked. This week was the wedding! It was K., his pastor, eight of his closest friends, and his two kids—and the three of us missionaries whom he's only met twice. We pulled up first and threw the football with his son for a bit. Eventually, he handed me this Nikon. It had a 28-300 lens that was a lot more fun than I expected. Maybe because I haven't had a camera that can zoom in nine months, it felt really nice and I used it a lot. MRKL would be proud-- I'm being slightly converted to the long lens game. I think I took some good photos but they're in his camera so I haven't seen them. Anyway, we spent a long time there, and had a good talk about what our missions mean to us. He went through each of us, calling us by our first name, and asked us what our mission meant to us. I told him that I do learn a lot of soft skills, but the thing I love the most is sacrificing everything just so others can experience the same happiness I've enjoyed. He seemed to be genuinely respectful. Later, we met up with the zone leaders who wanted to stop for ice cream. I brought Elder Seamons his ice cream cone, and as soon as I touched it, it felt extremely weird. It just felt absolutely unnatural, then I realized it was the first time in seven or so years I had held an ice cream cone! I explained that when I handed it to them and they laughed. *Henry doesn't eat sugar Later that week at the apartment, Elder Smith and Elder Seamons wanted to get Wing Shack. "It's pretty far," they said, concerned. "Well, it's not too bad." I didn't disagree, the productivity in the afternoons is low. In addition, getting out of the normal routine and going somewhere new is healthy. We went and got Wing shack. Elder Seamons joked with us about how funny it would be if we showed up to the Zone Leaders' apartment unannounced. They only lived five minutes away, so we went and drove over there. They were surprised to see us, but grateful. We ate with them -- ironically they had also just returned from Wing Shack. After we ate, the zone leaders told us that President Palmer wants to see higher quality missionary posts online rather than 60 mini Come Unto Christ pages. We decided to think of some ideas, and we began by watching another companionship's video. It was semi-decent. We bounced ideas off that video. We finally decided to shoot in a series of locations, much like the other video, and just wing it. We wanted to start at the church where the church logo was. I wanted to do the thing Nathan Fielder does in Nathan For You, where he walks with the camera, hard cuts to a camera 90°, and turns and keeps talking. He does it four times in a square-- it's so funny! I filmed them and the idea got in my head to start from the sign, pan out, then have someone walking that I could pan to, and do a series of those for the video. Quick, easy, entertaining. Thinking through it, I thought the entrance to the church would be a good place to land for an invitation for the video. I was so happy to do this, plus everyone was down and they let me do my thing. I was trying to figure out a good transition sequence to get us there and the hallway came to mind. Walking through the hallway, it played out in my mind to have these three paintings play off of the message they were sharing, like that opening scene in Baby Driver. We did a few takes. We mapped out where the actors and I needed to walk and at what pace. Some loved and could go off script easily, some needed a line prepared and practiced. Some worked better together. It was just SO much fun to work with people and have all these unique abilities to support making a fun video. Eventually, it all came together by simply putting it in fisheye. It just made it click. The video isn't great quality, but good for what we could do. It was really fun and they all enjoyed making it. As I've had so much time recently to absorb this experience, I've developed as a person and digested the beauty in the places and people around me. I've really enjoyed this time of temporary rest from the normal tires of missionary work, and to contemplate creativity. I still rarely speak of it, but I do think about it almost constantly. As I experience different things, I often think about how I will write about what I'm experiencing. I've been learning so much about being an artist while on my mission. This week is the end of the transfer, which is crazy. We're all going to be split up. We are supposed to get a ton of foreign-assigned missionaries who have come home early, which is going to be crazy. Six are coming from the MTC. Lots of questions are being asked. What kind of attitude will foreign missionaries have towards their new mission? What will online MTC missionaries be like? When will they come? What's it all going to be like? With a lot of leadership headed home, what will leadership look like doubling the size of our mission and removing most of the MLC? I'm not super worried. I'm staying in Longmont but getting a new companion. Like the Headspace app said, just let the sound come to you.
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