Monday, September 1, 2014

A Prayer in the Pouring Rain

*our little friend


In the middle of our studies we heard a bit of scuffling around the house.  After a short search we came across a small puppy that wandered its way into the house.  We then continued to chase it around the house in attempts to get it the heck out of there.  Then it came back.  Then it sat in front of our door and cried for ten minutes or so.

Just about to go to sleep when I noticed a FAT DADDY cockroach crawling on the wall by my bed.  I grabbed the broom and made a swing at it.  After 7 months of cockroach killing I've gotten pretty accurate, but this time I missed (I blame it on the lack of sleep), and then out of no where the GIANT cockroach started to FLY.  Yes.  Fly.  They now fly. 

Naturally we both screamed and ran, like the crazy-white-girls that we are, into the kitchen to hide (and to get the bottle of Raid).  Then we started in on the process of trying to kill the flying cockroach, which actually took a good half hour. 

We would spray it and take a swing at it and then leave the room screaming until we built up enough courage to take another go.  By the end of it all, we were both laughing so hard we could hardly stand up straight.  Oh Mexico.  You just keep getting better and better.

Also, we have a new investigator.  She works at a pet shop and owns a boa constrictor.  We opted out to hold the smaller snake was pretty excited [exciting?].  She informed me afterward that the snake I had chosen to hold was actually known for biting.  Well, good thing I've got all those missionary blessings on my side, right?  I almost held the tarantula, but then I decided I value my life.


So apparently macheteing is a verb here.  Isn't that the greatest thing ever?  I found that out because this last week we had the opportunity to go to a park and do some service!  They told us to bring machetes.  The day before, we went to go pick up the machete that our friend said we could borrow. 
So there we were, two white girls in the middle of Mexico walking around with a GIANT machete. Totally normal. 

We showed up the next morning bright and early at the park, and they gave all the machetes to the Elders [the guys] and gave all the Hermanas [the girls] paint brushes to paint the fence.  Well I was all pumped and ready to learn how to machete stuff and I wasn't about to go and let some Elder do it for me. 

So I politely declined the paint brush and went at it.  At first I just kind of stood there like the awkward missionary that I am and watched the Elders go at it, and it looked easy enough so I went for it.  A Mexican Elder was kind enough to give me some pointers and once I figured out that it was all in the wrist, it was a lot easier. 

Turns out macheteing is kind of hard.  After a while I developed a pretty mean blister and my forearms were starting to burn, so then I decided to go paint with the Hermanas for a bit...BUT I lived my dream. I machetied just like a real Mexican.  I cut that grass right down.  And you know what?  It felt really good. I think Im going to look into buying one of those things when I get home.  And the best part is they gave us sandwiches full of jalepeños afterwards.  And I even liked it.

 *Doing some service at a pretty cool park. Please be sure to take notice of the 
nice machetied grasses below. 
*I love Hermana Crystal  *we love each other


So the area I'm in had a few little pueblos that are about 20 minutes away and we have to take 2 taxis and a moto to get there, and we went last week to one of our little pueblos just to find out that all of our appointments had fallen through.  Cool. 

We had just gotten done painting, macheting, and pulling weeds for 3 hours and I was already beat. We still had 6 hours of proselyting and I was feeling anything but motivated.  I was bugged.  Bugged that everyone who said they would be there who were not.  Bugged that the members that said they would come with us bailed.  Bugged that the paint we used to paint the fence got all in my hair.  

Then it started to rain.  HARD.  We stopped by a member's [member of the church congregation] house as our last hope to teach someone, and they informed us they were just on their way out the door.  I asked to use their bathroom.  I needed a minute. 

I ran some cold water over my hands and sat there for a second.  Then the thought came.  Pray.  So I knelt down on the questionable bathroom floor and told Heavenly Father what was up.  I told him I was tired and it was raining and that I just wanted to teach somebody.  I asked him to put someone in our path.  Anybody.  And to help us recognize them.  And then we left.  Out into the rain. 

We just started walking.  "Where are we going?" asked Hermana Crystal.  "I don't know."  I said. Then a bus came to a stop right in front of us and out hopped a lady carrying a TON of stuff.  Perfect. We ran right over and offered to help.  And get this: SHE ACCEPTED.  People in Mexico NEVER accept our help, but this lady DID!  Miracle. 

I then proceeded to chat her ear off as we walked through the muddy streets carrying Mexican tupperware.  My life.  Then when we got to her house she even let us teach her something.  WHAT. Then we still had a good hour or so until our last hope appointment, so we kept right on contacting. 

We stopped a lady who was carrying groceries and asked her about the names of the streets, then out of nowhere I got a volt of courage and blurted out "... and can we come to your house and teach you a small message about Christ?"  She started to say no.  You could see it in her face, "ehhhhh," she said. And then she stopped.  "You know what," She said, "Why not?  Follow me. "And just like that we found another person to listen to us.  It was amazing.  It was awesome.  It was an answer to a prayer in the pouring rain.

 *raining. always raining.  *my life lately
 *Teaching the Gospel in a pet shop
*found a friend the other day

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