Dear All and Sundry:
Last week at ward FHE the game consisted of pulling a TOTALLY-had-no-idea ge Sister Darcey up to the front of the cultural hall (full of 100+ people and one billion+ calories of delicious Chinese goodness), then sticking headphones in her ears and a microphone in her hand and making her SING ALONG to several MANDARIN pop songs that she'd NEVER HEARD IN HER LIFE and then having everyone there guess what song it was. It was like a bad dream.
But painfully, hilariously real. People were on the FLOOR laughing at my horrible jabbered fake Mandarin lyrics... It was so bad. But the ward had a good time...
Sunday was hard because everyone thought I was leaving THIS Thursday instead of next--so they wanted pictures and gave me presents and thanked me for my service and the whole time it was finally sinking in that I was LEAVING and this is NOT OKAY and you get the picture.
I came home from a 3 hour find that night with my summer missionary, made all the sisters dinner out of leftovers and wilted stuff as fast as possible (end of the month is rough for groceries situation, but God does provide!) and then I went in the other room to take a phone call from the zone leaders, so pulled my study door shut... hung up, sat on the floor and cried and cried.
Sweat and tears just rolling along together... seriously, but it IS Devilishly HOT here. It hurts to be outside. We drink ... probably... checking my Batman water bottle... 750 ml x 7= ? Dad? How many liters is that? A LOT of water a day. 4900 + 350 = 5250 maybe, then liters? 5 liters? maybe? A LOT, ok? (um... please don't put my math online).
Anyway. Monday night we had an amazing miracle: Y. came BACK! I texted her on Sunday night (for the billionth time, all unanswered,) to ask if we could teach her about the gospel this week, and she FINALLY texted back saying Tuesday might be ok!!! So on Monday we prayed with our summers and then I called her. She ANSWERED... but didn't say much. I chattered to her (myself...) in Chinglish about weather, church, her school, family, scriptures, clothes, food, Hong Kong, finally about how I was going to go home and was really sad. I asked her what to do--she said, "Pray." hardy har har, but then she shared a neat experience with prayer!
And THEN--Sister C was pretty much praying the whole time, and I was just trying to feel out what I should say or share to help her come back-- I finally kinda let it go and said, "well, don't wanna keep you too late" and she started sniffling, then crying, then BAWLING. Oh man, it was crazy.... drama. WE GIRLS!
(Imagine the same tone as Derick used to say when we complained about how dumb men are: "YEAH, I agree! But I don't have to marry one! YES!")
But long story short I mentioned something she'd told me about cheung fan (this chinese noodle thing made of glutinous rice that is so delicious)--I'd told her I was going to miss it and she told me how to NOT miss it: "Just eat it every day until you leave la, then you not miss at all la!" I told her that even if I saw her EVERY DAY until I left, I would still not get sick of her :)
And we were forgiven... and came to church Tuesday for 3 hours and Wednesday three times to see us, and it's just so good. It seemed like that episode of loss was so scary and sad for so long (actually... only 9 days. but it FELT long!) How must the Lord feel about us when we are lost.
People are so funny. Our mission experience revolves around and delves so deep in people's lives, which makes it hard to see your work's "results".
People are not numbers, and their process of developing faith and learning to sacrifice, to change themselves into something better, is so hard to write down or record or measure or understand.
I am just grateful for the people and the relationships I've made here. I've loved and learned to love so much better and so much more, and I've sacrificed a lot to try to love people like God does. Most of the time I'm still at a selfish or prideful or in some way wordly level in my relationships, but many times here we get a glimpse of the purity of God's love.
The ward is so good to me and I've only been here for 11 weeks; I couldn't help feeling (when we took this picture) [NO PICTURE CAME] that I totally didn't deserve this much love. I didn't help anyone get baptized here, and even though I did my best and worked my tail off and served as well as I could--or at least TRIED to--did I really HELP anyone or support this ward or build up people's faith or anything?
But I think that's what God's love is like. Undeserved, unmerited, but overwhelming and supporting and really does light a fire under you to serve more and be better and stand taller.
As I get to know and refine my relationship with God (and people!) more, I realize how small my faith is, and how little I deserve the love and attention and aid I'm given--but it isn't depressing or demeaning. It's enlightening and encouraging, calling me to a higher standard with the constant call, "I am with you all the way."
And I know that I am nothing-- As to my strength, I am weak, therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strenth I can do all things! Many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever. Or something close to that :)
Man, I couldn't find the picture of the ward taking a picture with me. Oh well, I'll show you in a week... (except for Elder D and Hermana A, I better not see you in a week!)
Love you lots,
Sister d
