Life goes on, transfers come and go and Sister Johnston came. Lots of tracting, lots of teaching, lots of rejection and discouragement and then, last night, Heavenly Father reminded me why I'm on a mission.
We have been trying to teach a particular family since I got here in August—the
previous sisters found them over the summer. At the beginning of last transfer, we went there so Sister Pulham and I could meet them and that was when we actually set up an appointment and started teaching the mom. The rest of the family isn̢۪t interested. But, when the three of us went over there for the first time, the dad asked us why we had come to see them that particular day. We told him that every night we pray about who to visit the next day, and that's how we always choose where we go. He didn't say why he had asked, and we didn't think about it again. That was in August.
Last night we met with the mom, who has been reading the Book of Mormon and asking lots of questions. She told us the reason why her husband had asked us that question the first day we came. The family had been struggling with some serious problems. She had been praying for guidance, and lo and behold, the sisters started coming around. The dad had just received some bad news the day before the three of us came to meet them, and had started praying for answers, which is why he asked us why we had come. Apparently he was expecting us to say, "God sent us here in answer to your prayer!" The mom knows that we are the answer to their prayers, albeit not the one she was expecting, and that's why she is still taking the lessons from us. Please pray for this family. They need the gospel so badly right now, if they will only soften their hearts enough to recognize that we were sent to them in answer to their prayers.
I think I usually believe, in a theoretical sense at least, in the authority and reality of my calling. But I don't always have the faith to recognize that as missionaries we are here for the specific needs of certain people. It's not like God just turned us loose and said, "Go do some good stuff for someone." God is aware of every single soul in Fairfield and their specific needs, at specific times. Every once in a while, with experiences like this, he reminds me. It's the time in between those reminders that I need to strengthen my faith.
Being the wussy missionary I am, it is easy not to try too hard when people are so quick to reject the message. They tend to say something along the lines of, "I'm a good person, I read the Bible, I don't kill anybody, I'm doing okay. I'm all set! Thanks anyway!" I tend to give up too easily rather than challenge people on this when I receive this type of answer. The reasoning is something like, "Sure, they look like a good family, they're good people, at least they're Christian, maybe they'll accept it in the spirit world, I won't worry about them." But it would have been easy to think the same thing about this particular family. They look like they don't need too much help, like they don't have too many problems. Just by meeting them one would never guess what they are struggling with. And only the gospel of Jesus Christ, restored in its fullness, has all the answers they need. There are bits and pieces of truth everywhere, but only the restored gospel has all the pieces of the puzzle. I learned from this experience that I should never assume that I know who "needs" the gospel more or who is more likely to accept it. It is always the people that you think would be the least likely, who end up being the ones that surprise you.
We have a baptism scheduled for November first! One of our investigators came to church this week after only meeting with us once! Those are the other highlights of the week. We are very blessed, as always.
Everyone enjoy your pathetic Western autumn. (Sorry to say it, but it really is. Everyone raves about New England in the fall, New England in the fall and there's a
good reason for it.) Love you,
Sister Monson
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