Monday, August 18, 2014

A Party


My companion is fantastic.  She has a speech impediment and can't say her Rs very well.  She has bright red hair.  She uses essential oils.  We laugh.  A lot.  We practice our Spanish vocabulary as we walk through the streets of Mexico.  Sometimes she makes me oatmeal in the morning.  Sometimes I make her an egg.  We are exact opposites, but at the same time we are the same person.  I really love her. 

The other night, as I was just about to fall asleep, she suddenly spoke, "Hey Hermana, are you awake?"
I mumbled something unintelligible, and she said "I just want  you to know I look up to you a lot."
And then she rolled over and went back to bed.  I love her. 

Yes, she is painfully shy.  Yes, she forgets all of her Spanish in teaching situations.  Yes, she has a lot of stomach problems.  But I love her.  She is my very first mission CHILD!  She is growing and progressing everyday, and it is SO gratifying and fun to see it.


Went and taught our dearest friends and investigators (the same lady that called me THIS GIRL) about the Apostasy and Restoration.  It went PERFECTLY!  My companion was rocking it.  I was rocking it. The spirit was rocking it.  It was wonderful.  We left the lesson walking on clouds. 

And right there in the middle of that back country dirt road we stopped and we prayed.  We prayed a nice big thank-you right to Heavenly Father.  And in that moment I could just feel Him smiling down on us.  So aware of the shy red head and the loud brunette, trekking their way through a small pueblo in the south of Mexico trying to preach a life-changing message in less that perfect Spanish.


We were walking our way down a dirt trail and through a few fields to visit a less active family.  We passed a BIG Mexican party on our way there.  Loud Mexican music, kids running around in the yard, everyone sitting around and chatting and laughing.  We passed right by, and continued onto the house.

They weren't home.  So we turned around and headed our way back.  And then someone called out our names and we realized the less active family was at the party!  They waved us over and seeing this as a perfect opportunity to contact [people], I dove right in. 

They told us to sit down, and before you knew it we were sitting there in a circle of a dozen or more Mexicans, eating cake and cracking up.  We chatted about who we were and what we were all about. Somehow I related the Jello we were eating to the joy of the gospel, and then (just like that) we were bearing our testimonies of the Gospel for everyone to hear. 

It was the greatest.  And even though the Mexican Pop song was bumping loudly, and even though there were little kids running here and there and everywhere, the Spirit entered that little patio, and I knew they all felt it. 

We may not have been able to add another number to our list of key indicators. We may not have found anyone new in our area to go teach or who want to get baptized.  But in the end, they were all our friends, and they asked to take pictures with us. 

Maybe someday when they're going through a hard time, missionaries will show up on their front porch and they'll see that black badge [missionary name tag] and remember those two crazy white girls who showed up at a Mexican party and bore their testimonies.  Maybe.  After all, I've always loved a good party.

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