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.

I found Familysearch.org

I'm really glad that things are going well with the family. I've been thinking a lot about family and eternity and I've been learning how to use familysearch.org to help the people I teach get excited about family history. As it turns out there's a lot of work to be done for our family. I've already reserved the rights to do temple ordinances for an aunt who lived in the eighteenth century, and I'm going to go and reserve more so that the boys can have people to go through the temple for. I'll send that information along when it's all ready so that they can do that. I've also requested some patriarchal blessings from ancestors to read and think about. I think I've been bitten by that 'bug'. I've already discovered that on Mom's side I can trace back all the way to Augustus Caesar himself! This is amazing stuff, and I can't wait to really dedicate some time to it when I get home.

Tell everyone that I return their regards. I don't know how I've been able to stick it out some days, but it must be by their prayers and love. I pray every night that if anything comes from this, it's that my family is blessed and taken care of. This work is incredibly difficult and draining, and I don't know why I'm here sometimes, but I know that the Book of Mormon is true. Everything rides on that knowledge. Nothing else matters as much as that does. I feel as though I've lost who I was. I don't know what I knew, and there is nothing I have out here that reminds me of myself or the things I enjoy. It hurts a lot to face yourself and see that everything that makes you happy and makes life amazing is a facade. Except for history facts. Those are still handy. I just wish I could remember them as well as I used to, because it comes up a lot. Sister Thomas asks me all the time for explanations on Bible doctrine and historical context. As it turns out, I'm terrible at remembering dates and sometimes names!

We went out and bought a copy of 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolored Dreamcoat'. MoTab gets exhausting and we have the luck to be allowed almost anything as long as it isn't too distracting. Sister Thomas was most comfortable with that choice, and I can tolerate that musical to death. As matter of fact, that's what we've been listening to ever since we got it, and we still sing along with it. I don't know if it'll last for the rest of the mission though.

It rains cats and dogs here. I wish my dog were one of those, and that she'd fall from the sky one of these days.

Love you, miss you, talk to you Sunday!

-Magen

I'm in Baton Rouge

Dear Family,

This past week has been almost as insane as the week previous. We've been placed in the Baton Rouge 2nd Ward, which means that we're very close to the mission home/office. In regards to having requests for my address, I'm going to revert back to the office address on Justice Ave. I actually don't know my current physical address, and since the mission office is so close I think I'll just plan on stopping by there twice a week to pick up my mail. Feel free to pass that address along as my current address.

Baton Rouge 2nd Ward is so far pretty good. The people, from what I hear, are eager about missionary work and love to give referrals. This is really great news because we've both been double transferred into an area without an area book. A few weeks ago, the office elders (who're in our ward) had the mission van stolen. In that van was the area book we should have to help us pick up some work. Basically what that means is that we're starting from scratch and we'll have to figure out how to find people.

We have the very good fortune to be living around the corner from the temple, and our church building is next door to it. Both are situated in a very nice neighborhood. I am so excited that Mom and Dad intend to come here to pick me up, because there're so many things already that I know Mom would enjoy. The food, however, is definitely something for me to share with Dad, since it's too spicy.

I can't believe Lacey's going to Hawaii. I didn't think she'd be able to get the money. How'd she do it? Make sure to tell her to send me pictures. All of you need to send me pictures! I need to see more of you. I would have pictures today, but I forgot my camera at the apartment. I don't have much anyway aside from an alligator. I don't think I'll have more than 100 pictures by the time I leave!

The heat is already getting to be too much. It feels like mid July in Utah and it's the last day of April. My clothes are not going work for the next five months. I'm going to die. In my defense, Salt Lake retailers don't sell summer clothes in the middle of winter when I did my shopping.

We had a day of service, by the way, back in Lafayette. That was pretty fun. The stake got together to repaint some of Lafayette High School. There were more than 300 people there and news crews came out to report. I brushed poles most of the time. I don't know how that helped or why I was doing it, especially since the sound of metal scraping metal makes me cringe, but it was fun to do something. The high school looked like an actual prison with a low ceilinged cafeteria and 'NO (insert item here)' signs all over the place. The ceilings exposed all the wiring, and the windows had bars. Really. The commons area outside had benches arranged around platforms, and I imagined that the students would gather on the benches as one would stand on a platform and deliver some rousing manifesto to inspire revolution. I don't think any high school will ever look so much like a prison as that one does, and I will never complain about Liberty again.

I can't think of much else. We have done practically no missionary work this week due to our circumstances, and I'm still very quick to forget that I'm a missionary. I don't know if it'll ever set in. On a high note, some of the adjustments I've had to make may stick with me. It's very freeing to not be worried about the internet or television. Music, on the other hand, has proven to be a chunk of my heart gone missing. Since I put everything on my iPod instead of bringing CDs, we don't have anything to listen to in the car except the same MoTab CD over and over. If you are feeling so inclined, a variety (I have a hankering for Saturday's Warrior) would be greatly appreciated. ;)

Tell the boys that I'm waiting on pins and needles to know where they're going and that they need to hurry up already with the papers! What time do you want me to call home on Mother's Day?

I LOVE YOU THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS MUCH, FAMILY UNIT!!!

-Magen

I have a Stalker

Happy Birthday to Dad and Lacey. I love what Lacey did, and I want you to know that I thought of you both. I miss you guys, and I wish I'd have been able to talk to you and tell you how much I love you, but rules are rules. I'm technically not even allowed to write letters on any day but Monday.

Before anybody dives into this week's email, I need you to sit down. Are you sitting down yet? Well, yeah, I mean it! Go get a chair! Okay. Ready? Good.

I got into a car accident. Wednesday. I'm fine and so is Sister Thomas, and so is the car actually, but it is currently not drivable because it needs to be repaired. We were driving to an appointment and got stuck in stop and go traffic for about ten minutes. In the time it took for Sister Thomas to glance at the dashboard, a bus two cars ahead of us came to an abrupt stop, as did the two cars in front, but Sister Thomas, who was stepping on the gas a bit when she looked away, had to look up and then hit the brake. The Tiwi box (A driving monitor we have installed from a company in SLC. They're in twenty missions, so the boys better hope they don't get called to one of them if they don't want to be violated. TJ would have to drive like a grandma, haha.) scolded us with a loud "AGGRESSIVE DRIVING" as we hit the car in front. We pushed all the way into the middle of the intersection when Sister Thomas decided that she didn't want to ever drive again and started crying. I tried to calm her down and told her she needed to drive through the intersection and pull over where the other two cars involved were pulling. It took about a minute for her to respond. When we finally got over, I called the mission office and started pulling out all our insurance, registration, and the accident report from the glove compartment. She was still fairly hysterical, which switched me into Mom mode. I gave her some paperwork to fill out because she needed to try to focus on something, and I went out to take pictures. None of the actual body is dented, thank goodness, but the plastic bumper and the lights were pushed out of place. We got really lucky. We were the third accident in the mission in three days. Salt Lake has to approve the cost of repairs ($3200 estimate) before anyone can drive the car, which means we get to use bikes.

Only I haven't used my bike yet because we went on exchange, and I didn't need a bike. Then on Saturday, as the elders came over to repair my tube that was popped by whoever put it together (and fix what they hadn't done right), a big red truck broadsided a Jeep Cherokee and pushed it into our parking lot under our window. We rushed out to help them. Nobody was bleeding, but the lady in the truck was pregnant and had to be taken away in an ambulance since she'd been broadsided on the driver's side. The people driving the truck were a Mexican family who were shaken for very different reasons it seemed. They didn't speak any English. The elders directed traffic around the accident (we live on a busy road and the accident blocked our entrance and took up a lane of the road) until emergency crews came. That was insane.

I still haven't been on a bike because we spend all of Saturday with the Adams (senior couple) going to visit investigators. By the way, I hope you're still sitting down.

Saturday night, our district leader came by to talk to Sister Thomas about a guy she'd been teaching before I got here. I've never met this guy, but he had to be dropped about a week and a half after I got here because he'd been texting Sister Thomas to tell her that he was falling for her. He's a big black guy in his late thirties, and has a history of violence. Remember that. So we gave his number to the elders who have not gotten a chance to teach him yet because he makes up excuses. That has not stopped him from coming to church to stare at Sister Thomas. Elder Taylor (our DL) has been bothered by it all week and wanted to let her know that he'd prayed about it in the temple and that he was going to tell President Wall. Which he did on Sunday.

So after church on Sunday, he called us to tell us that we were being ET'd (emergency transferred). Sister Thomas, because the President wants her out of the way of this potentially dangerous man (who has apparently cut people's fingers off), and me, because I am in training. We're leaving tomorrow to stay in Baton Rouge until President knows where to send us. We're being replaced by elders. One of the ward members offered us a place to stay the night because he thinks it's too dangerous to leave us in our apartment, and President agrees. We actually had a guy come over at ten thirty at night a few weeks ago and knock on the door, then sit in his truck (which, oh by the way, was missing plates) for a long time to take notes or something. So now we've been smuggled out of our apartment like Jews in Nazi Germany, and we're not allowed to be alone until we get to Baton Rouge. My life has turned into a movie.

But I do have a funny story to tell. When the elders were here during the accident and to fix my bike, their real motive for coming over was to share a pizza from Papa Murphey's with us. It was delicious. After the hullaballoo with the accident, they showed us a video they'd taken. It was them on their bikes, stopping on the sidewalk and picking up a pizza from the side of the road. They folded it in half, stuck it in their backpack, and that's where the video ended. We'd just baked and eaten that pizza. I told them that it would take a lot more than that to gross me out.

To top that though, a few months ago, Elder Taylor had made a big pot of jumbalaya for Sister Thomas. He used rabbit meat, and afterwards he showed her a series of pictures he'd taken of himself picking up a dead rabbit from the road, putting it in a box, skinning it, cutting it up, putting it in the freezer, taking it out, and cooking it in a big pot. This story had only been relayed to me, but when I heard it, I asked whether they'd run over the rabbit themselves. They had, to which I responded "Well, as long as you kill it yourself, it's okay to eat." Really, it'd take a lot more to freak me out I think. I'm finding that in a lot of ways I think more like an elder sometimes than a sister.

Well, I have to go finish my P-Day and get ready to make an emergency exodus. I'm so glad Dad got working again. I've been praying hard for that. I'm super excited to hear where the boys are going. Don't send any mail to me until I write Mom back with my new address. Tell anyone you know who's written me, which is basically just my bookstore people, so tell Jessica to relay that. Take pictures of the backyard! I want to see! Hug Tonks, I miss her soooooooo freaking much. She's the best freaking dog in the world. I'll write you next week! LOVE YOU!!!

halfway through my first transfer

I'm officially halfway through my first transfer, which means that from here on out I will be away from you all longer than I've ever been at any given moment of my life. It's starting to wear on me a little bit. There's a Billy Joel song that was recorded on the Men of MoTab last year that makes me cry when we listen to it in the car. Mom has it, I know. Billy Joel always reminds me of Dad for some reason, so it makes me miss you. Don't worry Mom, I think a lot about you too. Whenever we go driving through the nicer neighborhoods in Lafayette I think of how much I wish you were here to 'ooo and aaah' with me over the architecture and Southern French style. My favorite part of town is a view of the river when you cross one of the bridges and you can see a big house hidden by trees and the boathouse right on the river with white slat trimmings. Maybe I'll get around to taking a picture and sending it home. It reminds me of the view on the Thames the further inland you get.

This week has been busy. I think. Interesting things happen most every day, but they're beginning to run together and I forget what happens. I am keeping a journal though so I don't forget. On Monday we had a dinner appointment with a family in the ward and they were out there. They remind me of the Holtzes a bit in eccentricity, but they are definitely the kind of people we probably would have gotten on with in California. They invited Sister Thomas and I as well as the English elders in our ward. Both sets are training new missionaries (myself and Elder Riendeau) so they thought it would be keen to have a green dinner. They wore green in our honor, had us eat from green dishes, sat us in green chairs, and served us green mashed potatoes with green gravy, salad, green koolaid, broccolli, and lime flavored (regular colored) chicken. It was fun. Brother Awbrey was in the army and served in Germany the same time we were there. They have two missionaries out and a plethora of other children at home and lots of books. I could definitely see our family getting on with them.

We've officially taken on the Muslims as investigators and dropped the atheist. I don't really want to talk about that because he was mentally unstable, but the Muslim guys have turned into our miracle. We met two last week and then this past Saturday met them again. We got some copies of the Book of Mormon in Arabic and they brought two more friends. We talked about the Plan of Salvation, and it made sense to them. They were really excited and we had a good discussion despite the language barrier. Heaven in their sense has different levels based on how well you lived, so the concept of the three degrees of glory was not difficult for them to grasp. The only thing they seem to be missing is the belief in Christ as the Son of God. After we met with them they invited us to join them at a BBQ later, which was fun. We met more of their friends and taught them about some gospel principles and answered questions. They asked who we thought the last prophet was, and when we said we believed that there were prophets today, they got really excited. We invited them to come to church and five showed up. It was awesome. I don't know that they'll get baptized, but I know that they're loving what they're hearing. Sunday School was on the Priesthood which we hadn't covered yet, and I can tell they're interested in that. Hopefully we'll get to answer some good questions next time. I'm beginning to wonder if Mohammed was maybe a prophet called to prepare them to recieve the Gospel, but Satan intervened. I'm thoroughly convinced that the reason there are so many wars in the Middle East right now is because Satan does not want us there because he knows that if we sent missionaries to predominately Muslim countries the people would be all too happy to recieve the teachings of modern prophets.

Saturday was really the best day ever. Aside from that we went to the temple in Baton Rouge. For being small it's really pretty inside. I hadn't thought that small things could be so magnanimously beautiful I guess. I wish we could go to the temple more often than we do. It's so much easier to get through the week and keep a focus on what's important when I've been. When I get home I don't think I'll stop going weekly until the day I die. Unless I move to Africa or something.

I finally got all the mail you sent to me via the mission office address, including Mom's letter from New York. I think I'll wait to hear from Mom again though before I send a reply, just so I'm not jumping any guns. I've gotten a letter bomb from work which was nice, but I have quite a few responses to send today, so I'll write to Mom next week. I got a letter from Sally which was really cool. Getting mail is very exciting, especially when you're cynical and you don't have your hopes up.

Keep praying and loving and sending love. I love you all so much and I pray for you every day.

Happy Easter

Dear Family,

Thank you so much for the Easter package! I was surprised to get it, and thrilled with the goodies. I've started coloring my little egg man, and he's almost done. It seems like I don't get a whole lot of time to even do that. We had a good Easter yesterday. It was my first Sunday with the ward, so there were a lot of people to meet. I now understand why there are so many conference talks on the nature of God and the Godhead and why the idea of the Trinity is wrong. So many converts here don't understand that Heavenly Father is NOT Jesus or the Holy Ghost. We had so many prayers offered by people who spoke to Jesus and not Heavenly Father, I was in shock. I didn't know if I should say 'amen' or not. One of the ladies in the ward also gave us Easter crosses. I've never owned a cross before. I suppose it's appropriate for the holiday, but I feel strange having it. Dinner was at a member's house, and it was the most amazing meal I've ever had. Crawfish casserole, jalapeno bread, sweet potatoes, and chicken stuffed with cornbread and cajun spices. Holy cow it was amazing, I forced myself to eat more! Members don't feed us much so far.

 Sister Thomas is fun. She's from Lindon. Her dad is in prison, and if you do some research on DN or the Trib, you'll find articles about an ex-bishop committing fraud? Yeah, that's him. I think I like having a companion much better than having a roommate because one of the problems I have most with people is holding secrets from me. That's impossible to do on a mission, so my anxiety over companionships is pretty much gone. At least for this transfer. We laugh a lot, work hard, and party as hard as a missionary can. Our DL is nuts. On Friday we had a Passover dinner that was really interesting. We had to eat with our fingers because there were no clean dishes aside from the pans the food was in, for starters. We had naan bread instead of matza because there isn't anywhere to find matza here. We had salad instead of bitter herbs, rice, and gravy. To top it off though, in favor of economic over authenticity, we had a pork roast. For our Passover. How blasphemous can you get? He wants to have a Holocaust Remembrance feast this week on Holocaust Memorial Day, and he wants to try to eat whatever they ate in concetration camps. I told him there was no way he was getting me to eat feces.

Work is progressing here. People are super nice, and tracting isn't too bad. We got around to going for my first time this week, and we had a little miracle. I was too scared to say anything even though I was supposed to be leading in our efforts, so Sister Thomas said a prayer that the next house would be fruitful and give us a nice rejection if it didn't work. So I lead on and knocked on the door. We sure got rejected, but not without a hug from the guy, who was excited that we were out preaching about Christ. We also got some new prospects this week. Two Muslims and an Atheist. Such is my life. I come to the God-centric South, and I get two Muslims and an Atheist. It'll be interesting teaching them. The Muslims are really nice, but the Atheist is weird. He may be a bit crazy. We've visited with a lot of less actives. One guy, Ralphy, is blind and mentally challenged, and lives in a disabled commune in the north part of town. He's really sweet and very lonely. He was baptized a few years ago but has a hard time getting to church, so we try to visit once a week. He sits in the dark when he's at home and listens to tapes. His apartment is small and rather messy. It's very sad that people here don't care more. There is so much poverty, and though I know that many people bring upon themselves, there are so many people who are worth more but go unnoticed.

I'm so glad, Dad, that you took note of that talk. I was thinking of you the whole time. I felt as though the letter he referenced at the beginning could have been written by grandma, and I pray that there is an opportunity to reconcile. I was hoping that you'd like that. It's so important that we put our faith in the Atonement and turn to Christ for comfort and be willing to take His name upon us when we take the sacrament. Baptism is the only ordinance that we renew for our own benefit every Sunday, and it's because the Doctrine of Christ is the cycle by which we can find salvation and peace.

 I'll write a letter today and send it off to Mom. Thank you for your support and love. I miss you guys, and I love hearing from you. I hope and pray that things are going well at home and that you're recieving blessings. I hope the boys realize that this isn't going to be a cake walk and are spiritually prepared to take this work on. It will be very humbling for both of them, but they can succeed if they rely on the Lord. I hope they get called stateside so they don't get stuck in the Empty Sea for too long! LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU!!!

I'm in the swamp

I am here! I've been put in Lafayette, Louisiana which is the fourth largest city in the state. There are about 120,000 people, and it's been voted the best food in the country as well as the happiest city tied with (of course) Provo. My new companion is Sister Thomas who has been here for seven months and hasn't served in any other areas. From the sounds of it I can expect to be here for a while because it takes time to get the wards to trust you. I am having a blast, though I really wish I could be with you guys as you go do exciting things too! There's so much that the boys should get ready for, because this is not easy. The MTC can be fun, but if they think they want to speak a foreign language, they will not want to after a few weeks there. There's so much to learn and it's absolutely exhausting work. The food is okay, the soup is really good (there, I mean). There is a lot of spiritual tearing down and building up again. It's an experience like no other.

My first week here has been really good. I haven't done any tracting yet, as the efforts in this area are focused on less actives and refferals. My first day here was transfer day, and since I had no clean clothes we did some laundry then as well as some grocery shopping instead of going out for appointments (we didn't have any anyway). We drove through the Bayou to get here and it stretches forever along the interstate in some places. I've already seen the temple in Baton Rouge though I haven't been in it. It's kind of weird. It looks like an ancient temple in the middle of nowhere, though it's in the middle of town. Things are so spread out here it's as though we're in the country. They don't believe in sidewalks here which only adds to the effect.

Sister Thomas and I share our area with a set of elders and our ward includes the zone leaders as well as a senior couple. We have a district of five sets which is huge. Our first full day we spent doing weekly planning and we spent three hours on campus at UL doing a media board. Rejection is easy to take here because everybody is very nice and polite. Even though there are only 6,000 active members in the whole state, everybody here believes in God and nobody goes to the same church, so they're pretty open to taking pamphlets about Jesus. The elders got a lot of rejections though. We had our table set up in the middle of campus where they have a swamp. With alligators. It. Was. Awesome. There is a lot of swamp to see around here, or at the very least big trees. It has the look of the Civil Rights Era mixed with pirate cove, which is an really interesting combination. And it is LOUD! I'm not talking cars and music and people loud. I'm talking Jurassic Park loud. At any moment I might be seized up and chewed apart by some giant lizard. The June bugs are insane. I haven't seen any other bugs, but I've heard them. I see lizards crawling all over the place too. I keep telling Sister Thomas I feel as though I live in a zoo. The humidity isn't too bad yet. It feels about the same as early summer in California, but it's going to be a long and muggy summer here. I'm going to have to get new clothes. Salt Lake stores were not equipped with the right stuff during winter. I get an allowance of $157 a month, so money will be tight.

So... Thursday was weekly planning, Friday was District Meeting, Saturday and Sunday were General Conference. The chapel was empty for both days. The church is right across the street from a high school and Saturday there was an Easter egg hunt going on that was massive. The church parking lot was full with cars for that. The irony was that it was being put on by a new church in town looking to recruit members. How sad it is that people think that God would need to bribe us into converting with flashy toys and music? How ironic that the parking lot was full so people could go participate in that rather than hear His restored Gospel in the chapel they had surrounded? I felt as though I were literally in Lehi's dream of the Tree of Life. How true are Nephi and Isaiah's warnings in 2 Nephi that people will be lulled into a sense of false security and begin to believe that there is no evil? Even the New Testament makes it plainly clear that anything that doesn't declare the truth of the Gospel is not of God. I was pretty upset.

Nevertheless, Conference was good. I'm really curious to know what your favorite talks were. I thought some were very applicable to our family specifically. I took to Jeffrey R Holland's talk the most. You'll have to send me an Ensign when the report comes out so I can read them again. I actually fell asleep during the Sunday afternoon session which is really bad, but Oh My Goodness, I am not used to this!

On Sunday we had a potluck between sessions and got some gooood food. Sister Thomas is determined to lose weight though, so we're going to try dieting. No more treats.

I guess I should say something about investigators, since I have met with a few people. I'm changing their names though because we've been warned to not disclose any information since there are people who work really hard to thwart the Work from progressing. We went into the ghetto part of town the other day looking for a young man who was baptized a few years ago but has gone inactive because his relatives are against his practice. As it turned out we ended up at the wrong door and met Rhonda, who was trying to clean out her carport. She was very open to chatting with us about her life and how things are not so great for her. We were there for at least an hour, and after teaching her a bit about the Restoration, she told us we could come back on Tuesday. Then we met with Dale, who's mother was a member a long time ago but was excommunicated. He was baptized when he was eight, but hasn't been active since. He's a very cautious sort with very conservative values and a curiousity for the Church. I really hope things go well with him, because I felt several times that the Spirit was there teaching.

Week 2

HAHAHAHA! I got Lacey's email first and dshe practically said she was getting married in New York for $1234, and I was confused. Having only a half hour to reply to emails makes it difficult to go back and reread things for clarification. That's exciting that Mom is finally going to New York City. You'll have to send me a souvenir. You probably got my letter yesterday or possibly later today, but I have my flight itinerary and we're flying out of SLC at 6:05 AM on Tuesday. We have to report to the travel office at 3:00 AM. My luggage will have to be paid for whether I want to or not, and I think I can probably expect to pay extra for weight. I am going to be gone for a year and a half, so if I have to pay extra, it very well may be worth it. That being the case, I kind of need to ask for a bit more cash. I'm supposed to have at least a hundred on me for emergencies and I used up some of it to adjust my wardrobe for modesty. They have a secret sister boutique here with cute stuff, but I mostly needed some under shirts and not camisoles. I'll be sending home things I won't need in about a day or two to save on the weight, but if you could send me some cash for luggage, that'd be great. I will be reimbursed for whatever was under weight, so I don't think I'll need to ask for more cash for at least a month. If you want me to, I will keep reciepts and send them home so you know I'm not just partying on your dime. I'm very thankful that you've made this possible for me to do, and the last thing I want is to be tempted to be dishonest with my parents.

Our classroom, it has been surmised, is the hottest room in the building, and we're in the basement of the George Q Cannon. We've begged to move to a different room, and those chairs, being what they are, have driven me to sitting on the floor. I've fallen asleep several times, mostly during practice teaching, and it's insanely difficult to pay attention to studying. We're all going to be terrible missionaries at the rate we're going. The other two sisters often leave to go study because we spend of personal study time drawing on the chalkboard, quoting movies, and watching Johnny Lingo (accessable via LDS.org which is attached to our class TVs). I feel like I'm morphing into a nineteen year old boy; completely inable to concentrate on anything and competing to be the funniest elder. It'll be nice to not be around so many boys soon.

If ever I felt like I was in the military, this is the time. We wake up, get ready, plan, eat (lots of variety, and their soups are amazing), class, study, eat, gym, class, teach, eat, study, study, study, bed. That's a typical day in a nutshell. I like having the structure, but something tells me that the field will be easier in a lot of ways compared to the MTC, as well as harder in others.

We had Dallin H Oaks talk to us yesterday at Tuesday devotional. I was on the third row. He brought a heavy feeling of the Spirit when he walked in, and it was amazing. He talked about having the Spirit always, because as missionaries, we can't teach effectively without it. Then he emphasized that we can gain the Spirit when we take the sacrament every Sunday and that it's up to us to maintain that Spirit throughout the week. I've been having a hard time feeling anything this week. It's very possible that it's the congestion that's distracting me, or more likely the not studying (though it's difficult to read 2 Nephi when your nose is stuffed and cutting uoff your breathing), and I've been slightly depressed about the idea that maybe I don't have the Spirit. Maybe I'm not teaching by it. Sister Spencer assures me that she feels it in our lessons, but I'm having a hard time. Then again, Elder Bednar said a few years ago in a talk given at BYU-Idaho that the Spirit doesn't always have to hit you like a train. Sometimes in doing the right thing and being a good person you can have the Spirit and be prompted without even knowing it. I have the hope that I do carry that Spirit with me, even though I feel a little lost or unsure much of the time, and I'm encouraged knowing that taking the sacrament is a chance to renew that feeling again. I've been learning a lot about it's significance, but that will have to wait because I only have three minutes left.

MY first week at the MTC

The MTC is really great so far. I'd bet that the whole system has changed since Dad was here considering that we no longer teach by memorized lessons but by the Spirit as directed by Your Purpose, which is to invite others to come unto Christ by helping them recieve the restored gospel through faith in Jesus Christ and his Atonement, repentance, baptism, recieving the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end. Nothing else matters more than that, so everything we teach is up to us, but should fit into that motto. Classes are entirely made up of teaching scenarios. We teach each other, we teach real investigators, inactives, actors, and our teachers who roleplay as some of their investigators from the field. I have to roleplay as an investigator whom I know personally. It's pretty fun. Otherwise we do a lot of personal study which is increasingly difficult to focus on because we do everything except eat and sleep in the same classroom and it's hard to want to read the scriptures when we're still getting to know each other. Our classroom is what's known as a district, and we have four sets of missionaries. Two sets are going to Louisiana and the other two are going to Philedelphia. Most districts have all elders or maybe two sisters, but ours is half and half. That's rare. The other sisters are going to Philly. Sister Spencer is my companion, and she is really fantastic. She used to be inactive and felt like she needed to go on a mission after a break up. She's from Salt Lake, went to Olympus high school, and has the best attitude out of the whole district. It's been really difficult to have a bad attitude here since everyone is so great. The food isn't bad. We get a lot of variety except on Sundays when we had to eat cold cereal and roast beef. No choices there, and you know how much I don't like those sorts of meals.

So teach is all I do. It's really hard. Some investigators get bored, others want proof, and I'm finding that my testimony is being challenged left and right. To think that this is a cake walk in comparison! Still I feel that I'm strengthened, especially in prayer. It really is the key to knowing whether what we learn is true or not. It brings us an increase of faith, and when we increase faith by praying and following that commandment to pray, we're repenting. Whe we're repenting, we're following Christ's example. When we follow Christ's example, we are more in tune with the Spirit. When we're in tune with the Spirit, we're enduring, and the whole cycle repeats itself. It'll be interesting to hear how the boys like it when either of them get here. It's very challenging but so simple.

I don't know if I got all of Lacey's pictures in her email, she described more than I got. Maybe if I have time after this email I'll look again. (Our internet sessions are timed). I really miss the dogs, so thank you for updating me on how they're doing. I dream every night that they're crawling all over my bed. I should probably tell you that I'm sick. I got a bit of a fever on Sunday and I'm still suffering from coughing and a stuffed nose (only one nostril at a time. Annoying!) That's brought me to tears a few times, always of congestion. I did forget a few things and have a few things I wanted to ask you to send.

Athletic socks- I think I looked at them and thought "....nah." I completely forgot that we have gyms here (which are awesome, by the way)

Nude nylon foot socks to wear with my shoes. I don't need full nylons because Louisiana is stifling, but I really need to wear socks with all my shoes I'm discovering.

A toothbrush holder

I. Need. Mt. Dew!!!

For my birthday I kind of want pieces of everybody to remind me of you. It can be something I can use, it can be something I can eat, it can be something I can look at every night when I go to bed and greet me when I wake up. Framed pictures would be nice.

Something to share for my birthday.

Before the Sunrise

I’m feeling rather inspired to post one more thing before I go. Really, this blog might come off as a bit weird since the entries will be diced up little pieces of hurried emails written by yours truly and directed towards my family, so I need to get a bit out there that’s, well, ME. I certainly don’t want to look back at this blog and think, “What on earth was going on with my writing? You’d think I was five!” No, this is more a reminder for myself of the person I was before. The person who’s about to embark to Louisiana and come back as someone else completely. At least, that’s what I’m aiming for.

So what do I write about two days before leaving? How about getting a letter yesterday from my mission president requesting a plethora of new things to add to my ever shortening list of preparations that was only ever supposed to get smaller and not bigger? This list of things to do include a long trip to the DMV to stand in line and purchase a driving record as well as buy a bike and have it shipped to Louisiana.

Here is my first complaint: Humidity?! Bikes?! SKIRTS?! Really, I’ll do it, but I didn’t really think sister missionaries did that sort of thing. To be honest, I have no idea what it is exactly that sister missionaries do, as the only ones I’ve ever met have been in visitors’ centers and… that’s about it. I’ve never seen one in a car, on a bike, or in a bathroom. Are they allowed in bathrooms? So no matter how many mission prep classes I take, I don’t feel prepared. Everything we talk about goes in one ear and filters through this machine called the ‘Sure, this is what ELDERS do’ processor and out the other ear.

Then I guess I could talk a bit about freaking out yesterday at having all these new things thrust upon my plate, and how I decided that I wasn’t going. I’d make it through the MTC and come home and call it a learning experience. After all, I’m having a terrible time coming to grips with the fact that I won’t get to listen to Fleet Foxes or Simon and Garfunkel for a year and a half (Yeah, I’m a total hipster like that). I went to sleep thinking about all these things and how I was going to give up for the sake of my musical fixation, when all of a sudden I was awake and in stake conference where the topics were all on… need I say more? It was practically the gunshot I needed after getting on my mark, getting set, and going. This is really it. This is exactly where I need to be at this point in my life.

But really, what I want most to express is how upset I am that someone stole the last of my Thin Mints right off the table next to my cot.

Origination

The summer of my sixteenth year is probably where it all starts. I don’t remember it well, but I do remember some of the things I felt in the week I spent at BYU Idaho participating in EFY 2002: We Believe. I think we were rolling down hills one afternoon, which all sounded well and good until I felt absolutely sick afterwards. That wasn’t a great feeling as you might imagine, but it doesn’t compare in my memory to the feeling I had that I would one day come to this point in my life. I knew that summer that I believed in Christ, and I knew that I had to serve a mission when I came of age.

Five years later I was of age, but nowhere near ready to serve a mission. In those five years I had faced deep depression and a loss of confidence. I was nothing. The world was nothing. I can’t blame my college education for steering me away from a belief in the fundamentals of my childhood faith, in fact it has in many ways strengthened my testimony, but in the years leading up to the year I turned twenty one had left me feeling that there was no God. Life was an accidental joke.

Nevertheless, the prompting to serve a mission has persisted. I have questioned why these feelings have remained, and I’ve tried to channel that resolve to serve into a desire to join the Peace Corps or teach English abroad. And then I realized one day that life wasn’t an accidental joke. There was a God, and He is Father of All. I’d been denying myself my testimony for years, justifying this by pointing out the ignorance of other believers and blaming them for ruining a good thing.

But faith is not a bad thing. It’s not claiming certainty. It’s a mode by which we live our lives in order to better ourselves and the environment in which we live. Alma 32:21 famously states: “And now as I said concerning faith—faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true.” Truth does not mean fact. It doesn’t have to. It doesn’t matter. I can believe in Christ even though I can never be certain and find bliss in what others perceive as ignorance.

Upon deciding this, I found I was happier in life. I was so happy that I couldn’t understand why so many others were not, and that’s where the prompting to serve a mission comes in.

Now I don’t believe in trying to make people join a religion, but what I’ve come to understand is that my goal is not to convince anyone of anything. I’m going to Baton Rouge to answer questions, listen, serve, and invite others to feel as happy as I feel. I don’t believe that everyone must join my religion to find happiness, but I do know that joy can be found in the Gospel and that someone out there needs to hear it, and I’m the only one to help them.

So, without further ado, I invite you to join me on the journey. This blog will be updated weekly by a designated copy/pasta minion. I would do it myself, but it goes against rules. The posts will be comprised from the emails I’m allowed to send to my folks on a weekly basis. I can receive and send traditional post, and I invite you to get cracking with a quill and parchment.

The Beginning