Weeks smudge together and it seems as though this has always been and always be my life. I wouldn't mind that really for as each day passes, my love for these people grows. Living is different here, but it has a sense of simplicity that is intriguing to one who has never lived such a way.
Sundays are different. The empty streets roam the city, silent bell hang from every church, and buildings, that usually are crowded with people, stand still on ever corner with eyes shut as if they were trying to hide from the emptiness that surrounds them. We wake up, as we should - . There is never much conversation in the mornings, but there seems to be less. With buttoned shirts, ironed slacks, and a ruggedly knotted tie, we leave the empty house. I hear it whisper ''Goodbye'' as we quietly lock it´s door. Our first stop is not the church. We walk swiftly and with purpose to the investigators' houses that are scattered around the city. We knock, call, and invite everyone we can. Unfortunately, there is no success.
We do not have to walk for long before arriving to the only place that seems to be smiling. The chapel is located at the center of the city and gives off a warm inviting glow that is brighter than the sunlight of the early morning. We enter, greet the incoming members, and anxiously await the arrival of our investigators. Sweat slowly forms on our brows as we faithfully wonder if the people we had previously invited will come. We lightly chat with some of the faithful ones that always arrive on time though our minds are in another world.
''Will they comes?'' ''Who will sit by them?'' ''Will they make it in time for the sacrament?''
Our hearts beat faster and faster as the Bishop starts with the announcements. I am called on to play the piano and I take the long walk to the front of the chapel. With each step I feel as if there were weights dragging my shoes to the ground. I heart begins to sink deeper and deeper into my chest as I begin to accept the reality that no one will come. I play the opening hymn, but it is over before I can even blink. In a daze of frustration and sadness, I return to my seat. My companion and I do not speak. We pass through the sacrament and the speakers being to give their prepared and unprepared talks. For us, the ticking of the clock seems to be the loudest noise in the room.
Still in a fog of misery, I am startled by a vibrating in my pocket. Forgetting I have a cell phone I wonder what it could be. I reach in, realize it is my phone and, making sure no one was looking, I read the message.
I looked at the sender and begin to read.
Before I could even finish reading the name, I look up and see that someone had made it. I quickly nudge my companion who was almost asleep and read him the message. Now with smiles, we both look up and see our investigator witting with a member, following the talk with scriptures.
It ended up being a great rest of . We taught an amazing lesson Sunday night to a less active from Brazil and then came home and were able to ''rendir cuentas'' (not sure what that is in english) to our District leader. The whole week leads to . is when all your work from the week with investigators comes together.
We also had Zone conference this week which went really well. We talked a lot about the importance of the Spirit in our lives. We talked about our goals, plans, and desires for this transfer. With Elder Garcia, we are going to organize a Christmas Choir with a ton of people and practice during all of December. We are hoping it will help us find more people to teach while focusing on the importance of Christmas.
To finish I invite you to read Moroni 7-8
Everyone knows these chapters for their verses about infant baptism and charity but I read them this morning and realized that it talks a lot of faith. Read them. You´ll find something new too.
Hurrah for Israel!
Lots of love,
|Someone gave us a watermelon.|
|My companion turned 1 this week.|