I don't have ebola. Sometimes people tell us scary stories when we eat dinner with them or knock on their door. Mostly these scary stories have to do with recent kidnappings. But now, they have to do with ebola. At least I can't understand what they are saying. I live in my own little world a lot of the time because I don't understand enough of the language to know what is going on. Good times.
We hear lots of other things too. Some people talk about their wayward teenagers, the money that was stolen from them last week, their rent, the miracles they have seen in life, their problems with extended family, uncertainty for the future. We hear a lot. I am always surprised about how willing people are to talk about these things.
There was a pretty crazy thunderstorm last night. I didn't know the sky could hold that much lightning. I would have been more impressed and amazed if it hadn't been at 2 AM. We need our sleep.
We moved a lot of wood last week. One of our recent converts (since a few months ago) needed a bunch of wood moved from a trailer into her garage. In order to have room in the garage, we first had to move bags of concrete mix stuff. It was an adventure. Miracle of that day: I didn't get any splinters!
One thing I have learned this week is that plans are not the same as real life. This is how it goes: we knock on someone's door. They tell us they are busy, but we can come back later. We make an appointment. A few days later, we call them to confirm the appointment. They don't answer. We show up on for the appointment. They aren't home. We leave
Another interesting thing: The night before, we write out all the appointments we have for the next day. We make plans for how many lessons we will teach. Then, things work out exactly as mentioned above. We do teach lessons, but they are to random people, never the lessons we have planned. Hermana Enriquez's encouragement was "God's plans are not our plans." This is definitely true.
The thought of miracles is what gives me hope. And the thought that people are not rejecting us, they are rejecting our message. That makes things a lot easier to deal with. It goes:
"Hi, we're missionaries from-"
"We aren't interested." Door closes.
And those conversations are usually in English. I don't quite understand the cultural difference, but it is significantly easier to talk to Hispanic people. Also, I don't know if I mentioned this before, but we teach people from lots of different countries. Last week, we taught people from Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Mexico. One day, I will know enough Spanish to be able to ask them about their home countries. That is exciting.
Well, I just want to say that this Church is true. Even if you don't believe in any of the many witnesses of it, you still have to admit that it is amazing that we send out 18 and 19 year olds to preach....and it somehow still grows! But really, I have seen in these couple of weeks how the gospel can bless lives and families, how living the commandments really makes a difference. Christ knows our pains and our weaknesses. My strength is in Him.
Have a great week!