It was an almond. Mayhem diverted.
Did the new year start this last week? I am already losing track. And thus begins a full year as a missionary. Happy 2015! We drank sparkling cider, did a bit more of our puzzle, then went to bed at 10:30 as usual. Woo.
We had some good, uplifting lessons. I finally feel like I can recognize at least a few people in the ward. I found out last night that Hermana Pollock can tie a cherry stem in her mouth in like 5 seconds. I was so impressed. And yet when I tell her she is amazing, she just laughs. People seem to be like that.
One of the things I have been learning here is the strange poison of comparison. It is definitely hard not to. But true success as a missionary isn't something that can be measured with numbers. We use numbers to show how many lessons we hand in a week, as if it was some proof of how hard we are working. We don't number doors knocked or rejections that we had to shake off or those stupid tears that come when you are frustrated and you just can't help it. There is a huge, unexplained world behind those numbers. There is so much of life that you just can't quantify nicely with statistics. There is a hymn that says "Who am I to judge another when I walk imperfectly? In the quiet heart is hidden sorrows that the eye can't see." And that is how it is. There is no way to judge who has given up the most to be out here or who has had the hardest days. We do our best and pray for help with everything that falls out of our hands. At least a few things will probably always fall out of our hands. And the alarm rings at 6:30 the next morning whether you want it to or not. I am definitely more tired than I was at the beginning of this. Lots of prayers every day, hopefully only a few regrets.
That's about it. Have a good week. I love you guys!