I miss Sister Price

God has pulled the joke on me. I already have a new companion. Sister Price is gone, which really upset me. She's a fantastic missionary, and I learned volumes from her as a senior companion. I only pray I can one day be half the missionary she is. In those four weeks we managed to keep busy despite having no teaching pool. I will spend at least the next eight weeks with Sister So-and-so. I don't want to disclose her name yet because I'm not sure about this one, and it wouldn't be nice to plaster it all over the place in the case that this goes sour. This transfer, still being in Baton Rouge with a companion with whom I have no connection with (thus far), will be very challenging.

That's okay, because I need to stop relying on companions as crutches. This will force me to be more aggressive and forthcoming in my efforts. We have many long, awkward silences, and I get bored quickly of them. So I pray. Of all the things I don't want to do when I'm bored, prayer is probably at the top of my list. I would much rather read a novel or listen to some music or watch a movie, but since none of those are allowable I pray. It might be helping. I'm not sure.

I also talk to people. Since my companion and I don't talk, I take advantage of every opportunity. It's bizarre. I've never felt so eager to have a conversation with a stranger before. Anything to get some feed back and put a smile on my face is worth it. I need something to do!

I think the prayers for less lasagna in my diet have been working, but here's the punch: all I get now are tacos. I don't miss the lasagna, but I'm not a fan of the tacos. Why are these dishes staples in people's lives? Why do I feel shocked that they are? What were we doing wrong at home by not eating tacos and lasagna on alternate days? What other dishes am I going to get an abundance of that are not exciting and increasingly less Louisianan? It's like this ward is conspiring against us, or they're so brainwashed (most of them ARE BYU grads) and ho hum mormon-y that they prove the theory to be fact: Zoobies are robots and have no imagination. I predict chicken and rice to be the next fad dish of the month for August.

I can't get pictures of the bike. I have no opportunity to ride (let alone want to), and it's in a closet on our balcony. So you'll have to wait on that. I'm not regretting getting it at all, in fact I'm excited to have a decently built bike on which to commute when I get home, but I'm not riding it here. It's too dangerous. I went out once a few months ago and got hit. That and it rains heaps and heaps. Water pelts like shards of glass down here.

What year is this Chevy Impala? Why did you get a Chevy? What is wrong with you? I drive a Chevy Malibu. It's a piece of junk. At least it looks okay.

I'm super excited about the house. I think about y'all moving everyday.

Mom told me about Tonks. Not funny. She is my child! Don't lose my child!

Gyros are tasty. There is no decent asian food to be found here (Utah gets better), but there are a lot of Greek places to go to. I love Greek food. I crave Greek food. Not as much as pizza because it's been centuries since I had a pizza.

I ate CRAWFISH!

Don't get too hasty on calling my work 'success' yet. We were dropped by Jackie on Monday. She was our only investigator, and actually I must admit that I'm totally okay with it. There were too many questions concerning her accountability and sanity to really be upset. Dropping us isn't the best for her, I don't think, but it does aleviate a problem for us.

That puts us back to square one. We have no investigators, but we are still trying to work with less actives. We had one come to church yesterday. Ralph's been inactive for about sixty years I guess, and now he's getting ready to quit this life for the next. But first he needs to set things right, which is where we come in. I love Ralph. We go visit him once a week at his nursing home and have lunch and sing with him to his guitar. Some of the other residents join in and they love it.

My plans for the fourth are set. We're having Zone Leader Council that day, which I attend as the companion of a training sister. I'll be that we're going to have a jolly good time. Before that we're going to the ward breakfast to have pancakes and sausage. Then we have a dinner appointment that night with the first councilor's family which will be a BBQ southern style, no doubt! I'm excited.

It's interesting to be here in Louisiana for the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812. I don't know that people really realize its significance, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately. If I'm not mistaken, our national anthem is a product of that war. Louisiana plays a role in that war, and here I am. I feel like on some parallel plane of existence, that war is playing out again and again, and I can feel it. The Battle of New Orleans looms, and I won't actually be here to relive it. I'm hoping to see some fireworks this year. Don't lose the dogs!

I haven't had lasagna for a while, thank goodness. Prayer works!

Speaking of patriotism, this is the first primary in which I don't get to participate. I was so bummed when I got Mom's package. It was too late to send in my vote. For November you'll need to send it the day you get it, so I can get my vote in. However, I did appreciate getting the Saturday's Warrior soundtrack as well as Mom's letters.

I'm not getting mail anymore. I haven't gotten anything in a week now. This is good because I have a lot of letter writing to catch up on. This is bad because it means I've been out long enough to be considered dead to the world. I'm going to try to write Mom today if I can. Tell her I love her, and I'm sorry I don't write once a week! We only get eight hours a week to relax and get stuff done, and the last thing I like to do is write the same thing over and over. Then again... the only other option is to watch the elders play basketball. Boring.

Anyway... not much else is new. I'm going to a funeral on Saturday in New Orleans for the brother of one of our members. He was shot seven times in the head last week. That's normal around here. Can you believe that's normal? It's a wonder that none of us ever gets into trouble.

Oh yeah, so my new companion Sister Price is cool. She's a great missionary; very motivated, diligent, and focused. We talk in accents most of the time, and we try to have fun even though we have a lot of slow days and don't see much fruit. Still, we work hard. Too hard. I want to sleep in so bad. I will be sleeping a lot when I get home.

I hope Lacey gets to find a job. What is she doing in the meantime? What are the boys up to? I was thinking the other day that it'd be funny if Dad showed up to Baton Rouge and pretended to be interested in the Church. I wonder how long we'd be able to hold character? Don't do it, really, but it'd be funny.

Can you send me pictures of the dogs and the progress on the house? I need things to look at. What's going on in the world?

I don't know if I've sent these, but these are the recent pictures I've taken. I don't take pictures well, but... yeah. Maybe I'll get around to taking one of myself. Probably not.

The cat on the statue I love. We go running in the morning and that cat is always standing there. I suspect that that fountain is the fountain of youth, and that cat is its guardian. If I get the guts to try it, I'll report back.

The other pictures are of a crawfish boil. Yes, I ate those bugs. I'm so over bugs, it's not even funny. They're everywhere all the freaking time. I've had flying maggots attack me, I've had June bugs attack me, and I've seen dried up godzilla bugs that have a name but I don't know what it is sitting around in the most random places. They're everywhere. Whatever.

Then I went to the zoo. There's a lovely picture of a white peacock. I haven't ever seen one, so I thought it was a worthy animal to capture on camera. The other picture is of a sign in the bathroom comparing the pro's and con's of various methods of drying your hands. Conclusion? WIPE THEM ON YOUR CLOTHES! Take that, Moms Across America! I will continue to not waste time in front of a falsely advertised bacon receival unit (ask TJ if that goes over your head), continue to not waste paper, and proudly wear wet handprints on my belly or knees out of the bathroom for the rest of my life!

That's all. Gotta go. Love you lots!

Transfers are here again

I'm glad Dad has been able to work. Houston seems a world away, so it startled me when I skimmed down and saw that bit about driving into Baton Rouge and sending me a picture of the temple. Weird. I don't think you should do that or I might be really sad.

Light weight clothing would be great. It would probably be best to send me money so I can shop for myself. I've started to adjust to the humidity. It isn't all that bad, and the frequent rain cools things down. I'm wearing the same three skirts and five shirts over again, which gets boring, but I'm really glad I splurged last fourth of July and bought a bunch of linen button ups at Old Navy. That was definitely inspired, I think. If you're planning to send anything, be sure to send me some Utah stuff. Both my zone leaders and my new companion are Y fans, and we're starting to gear up for football. We were at the French Market in New Orleans last week and stopped in a sports shop where they had a few Utah things, and no BYU merch. So sad.

I'm sorry to hear that TJ quit. What happened? It sounded as though he really liked his job? I can understand Eric's frustrations. I'm actually surprised he lasted that long. I'm praying for both of them. I don't feel like I have to miss my brothers all that much being around so many elders, but I still really miss my brothers. And my sister, I guess.

I have a new companion. Sister Thomas went to McComb, Mississippi. It's weird not being with her, but the work has stepped up a notch, which I think goes to show that change was needed. My new companion is Sister Price from SoCal. She's been out for almost a year and this is only her second area. She's a training sister, which is sort of like a zone leader I guess, which means that she'll be on exchanges a lot. The other training sister is companions with Sister Spencer, so while they go out around the mission once a week, Sister Spencer and I will be tearing it up in two wards together.

So with transfers being last week, you know that things were crazy. I'm going through a shift and adaptation period. We're working a lot, and no moment is wasted. We helped a less active in the ward move with some of the elders in the city, and she was pleased to tears. It felt so good to help her out. Val is the only member in her family, and she lives in the ghetto. We moved her to a nicer house than what she was in, but it still needs a lot of work. We were actually able to use the mission van and the trailer to help her out so she could save money on a UHaul. She's going to make us a Louisiana Thanksgiving next week, which sounds like a chore. They go all out down here.

We've also been teaching a lady named Jackee, and yesterday was her first time at church. Jackee LOVES Jesus. She loves Jesus more than anybody I've ever met, and she won't stop talking about Jesus. She's also a little handicapped, so that would probably explain some of the situation. Working with Jackee is teaching me about patience and charity, because most of the time I am at a loss as to what we should do for her and about her. She really needs friends and people to care about her. I don't imagine many people would give her the time of day, but if it means that much to her and helps her out, I'll spend an hour or so with her every few days. The ward had a Linger Longer yesterday, and she loved it. She started coming out of her shyness, and yes, there were many eyes that were rolled in our direction, but there were also some genuine interest. She has a baptism date set, and she is excited. We'll see how this goes.

I am so excited to get July under way. We already have some festivities scheduled with members and the president for the fourth, and I can't wait to get the heat over and done with. I hope you guys have some fun things planned, and try to get Lacey to write me even though she's at Scout camp. I haven't gotten anything from Mom in a while either, which bothers me somewhat, but it might just be stacked up at the office. I'll be going there next. Love you all! Have a good week!

I still hate bugs

I have not heard from Lacey in awhile, but she's at camp, right? I hope she's having a blast. She probably is.

I have bug bites everywhere. I don't carry repellent. There's no point in carrying repellent. I got a bit close to two fires ants while mowing a lawn last week. That was funny. I was talking to Sister Thomas about how the little push mower was not adequate for the job when I looked down and noticed some ants roaming around on my shoe. I turned to bolt, yelling behind me, "Fire ants, bye!" I only got two bites. They don't hurt as bad as I'd heard. At least, not individually. They felt like pop rocks on my skin instead of in my mouth.

The days are running together and I've stopped writing in my journal mostly. There's not enough energy in the world to get me motivated to write "Studied. Drove Around. Knocked on Doors. Taught No Lessons." As fun as that can be everyday, it's not worth it. I'm not suffering my posterity to read through that for a thousand pages. That being said, because the days run together, I know I'm missing something cool I could write home about.

We have found a golden investigator, Jonah. He's twenty something, Baptist, single, and searching. He's concluded that Christianity is definitely it, but they're missing some things, namely temple work and prophets. Well Jonah, you called the right people! We had a two hour discussion in which we basically taught him everything, and he soaked it up like a sponge. This kid is so prepared for the Church, it'll be a miracle if Satan doesn't get to him. The Dragon is everywhere.

It rains a lot. I love it.

Saturday we got to help run a concession stand at a baseball game. Reminded me of working at the store on game days. I miss it to a degree. I don't think I want to go back, but... we'll see.

The end of the transfer is next week, so the next time I write will be Tuesday. I think we're going to New Orleans to go to the French Market before one of the sisters goes home. That'll be fun. I've already had my interview, and it sounds as though I will be leaving Baton Rouge. Three areas in my first three transfers; when do I get to settle down and love an area? I don't get to find out though for another week. Mom may want to hold off on writing, because if she sends next week's letter to the mission office I won't be getting it for a month. That goes for any mail that goes to the mission office, actually. I think I'm going to send home some things before transfers to empty out my luggage a bit, since I have a coconut to haul around now. It turns out I don't need my iron (they give us an iron for the apartment), and it was stupid to bring a dry clean only skirt. I love that skirt, but not enough to put the effort in to get it cleaned. I don't have the money for it either. I also don't think that I'll be wearing my blazers at all. When it gets cold I'll suffer. I don't think Louisiana could ever possibly get that cold, and if it does I can always send home for a coat since I forgot to pack my coats. I also have a little something that only Dad will probably enjoy, but it's a something. I still need to find something for Mom.

Well... I think that is about all. For now. Glad to know that everyone is safe and sound and doing well. Love you guys lots!

-Magen

DONT FEED MISSONARIES PASTA!

You will be happy to know that our zone conference last month was about hurricane preparedness and physical health. So I'm set on hurricanes. Not really, but trying to be. We each have two gallons of water and a seventy two hour kit of food. I have to somehow get a spare set of work clothes to store in a readily available place in case we have to grab and go, but I wear all my clothes. I don't have spares! I need to buy and extra Tshirt and some shorts in the very near future. I've been saying that for the past two months. I'm also pretty set on what bugs to stay away from. The worst of the worst is the brown recluse spider. I couldn't look at the slides without passing out, but their bites are the worst looking things I've ever seen. My fear of arachnids are justified, though, so you can stop teasing me.

Oh yeah, I did have one super important thing to tell you. If you ever get the chance to feed missionaries ever again (and tell your friends this): DON'T FEED THEM BAKED PASTA. Especially lasagna. Oh my goodness, I'm completely lasagnaed out. We get lasagna about fifty percent of the time. Yes, that's only once in two dinner appointments, but consider this: We get fed about six days a week. We get lasagna three days a week. It gets old. Really fast. I mean, I came to Louisiana, the only place in the country with genuinely unique local cuisine, and I'm being fed Italian? All the time? HELLLLOOOOO! Where's the gumbo? I still haven't had jumbalaya or etouffee. You've got to be kidding me. And that statistic should not imply to you that the rest of the time we are getting Louisiana cooking. Nope. That's when we get the salad, rice, and chicken. Mormon style. Cause that's how Mormons fly, I guess.

Uh... we had the area seventy come and bear his testimony yesterday. That was really a thrill. He talks like a Baptist preacher. I would love to hear him in General Conference! He spoke after all the other crazy testimonies. Fast and testimony is really something else down here. Half the people are regular BYU grad types, and the other half are converts of a few years. Now, given Louisiana's poverty rate, and given that the rich people here are Catholic while the poor are protestants, we don't have many (or ANY) converts who aren't a bit... special. We get wives rebuking their husbands for not listening, we get people demanding welfare, and then there are the people who still think they're Catholic. Wow. Louisiana is a different world.

I wanted to ask you, Dad, if you could send along some mission stories. I know you've told me some in the past, but I feel as though I don't have much to share or consider when I'm having a hard time. People here are hard to get motivated, and I'd just as soon let them stay put. In most situations I can't honestly say that I know what Christ would do. I don't know how to get people to church, and I don't know how to get them to listen. It feels as though all we are are an extra pair of ears for them to rant to, and we don't get a word in. That's not what I'm here for!

Oh well, we're sticking with members anway. We're working mostly with less actives and people on the 555 list. We don't have any progressing investigators at all.

I gotta go. We have a lot to do today. Talk to you next week!

-Magen

Splits are exciting

That is great news! I'm so glad that things are progressing better for you and I pray that it helps you feel closer to the Savior!

This week we had exchanges. It was great. I was with Sister Spencer again, and she's grown a lot in the last transfer. She's a missionary, and she goes out there to be a blessing to others. I'm grateful for her example. We visited with a lady who lives alone and is in a wheelchair. She has three cats and makes wonderful food. She actually gave me a bracelet because she'd missed my birthday. We get a lot of interesting gifts as missionaries. For Easter I got a cross, and now I have a bracelet. Last week Sister Thomas was given an old pink sweatshirt with a cat on the front and mystery spots all over. It's pretty gross, but when some of these people have nothing, a gift is a great sign of trust and how can you refuse?

We went to a less active family's house and I think we picked up two new investigators for the 3rd ward sisters. We went around the room sharing miracles we'd seen in our lives, and the Spirit was very strong. The investigators, who're friends of the less active family, were quick to pass over their numbers to hear more. That was amazing.

I spent some time on Wednesday at an assisted living facility by our apartment with a less active man and his friends. It was a very nice place and probably cost a fortune. They have a rat pack club, and we were honored to be with them for lunch. One is a former Baptist pastor who was as nice as could be and had a booming voice that was shocking to hear from such a small old man. We talked about history and learning ancient languages, since that's something I'm interested in, and they all shared stories. We ended up pulling out a guitar and singing. I loved it!

Yesterday we went out tracting and actually taught a new investigator. He's a young man going to school at LSU, and seems in search of something. We had a lesson wherein the Spirit was present, but was unfortunately chased off several times by his neighbor who was more interested in deeper doctrine and silly rumours than learning about what matters. He wasn't exactly bashing us, but it wasn't a great environment. Luckily the college guy got that what his neighbor was saying was pretty crazy. I'm glad I know what I know, and that my conviction is so strong. That's what's important. I hope we get to teach him again. Maybe even his crazy neighbor.

That's about all that went on this past week. Thank you for the card, Mom. I loved it! I miss the girls so much. On Saturday we had the opportunity to perform service for one of the members. They're living with their son and his girlfriend in a run down house. The kids aren't members (and how!), and they aren't super nice, but they're cordial. They (the son) have a cute puppy who was very nervous and barked at us until I yanked him out from his corner to show him who's boss. He LOVED me after that, and followed me all over the yard as we worked. Dogs like to be lead and loved, not beaten and despised. I could tell that they weren't treating him (or their parents, for that matter) right, and that all he needed was someone to love him. I wish I could have taken him home, I'm so dogsick! 

We had zone conference, and now I'm all ready for hurricane season which starts on the first of June. This is going to be a blast! We're getting 72 hour kits and emergency water, and we have to have clothes ready in a baggy to take with us in the case of emergency.

Is Lacey home? She hasn't emailed me. Tell everybody I'm thinking of them often and I hope they're having a good summer. And Dad, I need to know what units you were in when we were in Germany. Love you lots!

Prayer WORKS!

Prayer can work, apparently. I know that I should have a solid testimony of prayer already, especially as a missionary, but I most humbly admit that I don't. I don't see how blessing a dinner of starch and fat helps us stay any healthier or stronger. I don't see how praying to find a WalMart that carries Sister Thomas' prescription so we don't have to keep driving all over creation and using our miles helps any location suddenly have a bottle of her medication suddenly appear on their shelves. We didn't find any. As far as I've been concerned, prayer is either vain repitition that may as well go unuttered, or it is a meditation to find answers from within that may not be answered anyway because the world functions on coincidence and if you're not in the right place at the right time, you're not going to catch one.

Then Coincidence Becomes Miracle.

It can't be a secret anymore that I am not having an easy go of this whole missionary thing. Sometimes all I see it as is the most bizarre instance of employment of my life. Other times I percieve it as a conspiracy in which I find myself to be one of the conspirators, and I can see the wisdom in others as they give us a wide berth. Then there are the rare moments where I don't understand why people aren't flocking to us to be taught. Despite my lack of faith in the power of prayer, there are times I find myself kneeling anyway. My head hangs heavily as my elbows rest on the floor, my hands grasped tightly towards the heavens in a desparate plea to a mystery.

CS Lewis writes about how miracles work in his book so aptly named 'Miracles'. If I were so free as to bring a personal selection with me, that book would be found on my modest missionary shelf. In it he talks about how miracles are made possible in spite of the odds of our knowledge, and I would have a quote, but I don't. So I recommend it as a bit of light reading. I remember, however, that he mentions miracles as being things that don't defy the odds of science, but as coincidences found and regarded in the right perceptions. So, as it happens, this should be kept in mind as I continue.

The other morning I had planned to read Alma chapter seven. It was there, it was the next chapter in sequence, and it was absolutely a coincidence that I was going to be reading it that day. I'd already jumped into the first verse before I remembered to open my study with prayer. Little did I realize that it was what I needed to read, and that it would mean a great deal to me in my quest for spiritual edification. There's very little to be called miraculous about Alma chapter seven being the subject of my study.

The difference was the fact that this time, as i just mentioned, I began my study with a very fervent, totally sincere prayer because I'm at the end of my rope here about believing in anything. After the previous day, there could be a televised broadcast made live of the second coming of Christ playing on the TV at an investigator's house, and I wouldn't have cared. Miracle isn't miracle without faith. I've seemed to have forgotten that. Miracle is transubstantiated coincidence. It's when you look at the things that were going to happen anyway and instead of shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, you realize just how rare this coincidence was. You rejoice in the fact that you found the opportune moment.You see the blessing in being at the right place at the right time without putting forth any effort, and you feel the Spirit testify to you that this is how God would have it. This was absolutely planned out. It's been planned out because God, in all his omnipotent wisdom knew that you would make this choice and that you would need this answer.

Sometimes we don't get the miracle and it's just a coincidence. Sometimes we don't get lucky at all. I've read Alma chapter seven before. I'll read it again. It hasn't meant anything to me in the past, and I will forget its current significance to me in the future. Without praying sincerely, I would have read it anyway and probably gotten nothing out of it. But in this case, that coincidence turned into miracle and I found that everything I prayed for, every question I asked, and every murmur I murmured, was addressed in a way wherein I found myself being taught in a way that had to have meant that my Father in Heaven was aware of me and my needs.

Prayer worked. I testify of this. I testify that Jesus is the Christ, so named because he is the Saviour of the World. I testify that the Book of Mormon came forth of divine means and speaks from the dust to witness that this is so. It is another testament of that Gospel of the Messiah, a promise to our day that He lives and is aware of us in our afflictions and that we are not alone. He is united with the Father and the Spirit in purpose and that that purpose is to bring about the immortality and eternal life of man. The knowledge of this truth can come to us through personal revelation if we will only ask. There is no coincidence about it. There is no expression adequate enough to explain or convince.

Fact is coincidence.

Truth is miracle.