The WORST week

 Monday March 24

         We had a great night of teaching.  We first went to L. and his girl’s house.  The girls are already enamored by church.  They are reading the Book of Mormon. We left off reading 3 Nephi 11 at the last visit.  When we asked them what stood out to them, G (15 year old) replied: “When all the people touched the marks on Christ’s hands.”  Their father accepts the Book of Mormon, but since he didn’t grow up with a religion or the habit of going to church, helping him make and keep commitments will require a lot more follow-up.  We watched “The Restoration” only they didn’t have a remote control on their DVD player, which meant that we couldn’t select the language options.  They really wanted to watch it.  I ended up translating from English to Portuguese.  I have watched it quite a few times now, so I was able to do it.  It is remarkable to think how far my language skills have come in just a few short months.  The gift of tongues is real!

Wednesday, March 26

         Today, around noon, I received a phone call from President Lima, which once again sent my companion and I into a state of panic.  It isn’t every day that your mission president calls you!  Anyway, he asked to speak to just to me (red flag #1), and then to praise me on the many miracles that my companion and I have been having lately (red flag #2).  In nearly the same sentence he said that my Dad would be calling me later that day and that I should remain alert to a call from an unknown number.  I was in a state of shock knowing that your parents are only allowed to call if something SERIOUS happens at home.  I stammered out, “Por que?” President assured me not to worry…(right), and that everything would be all right. 

         All of the other sisters were there, and as I shared what President had said, a thick silence filled our ant-infested kitchen.  I asked Sister Brown, knowing and trusting that she would give me an honest answer,  “Parents only call if something really bad happens, right?”  She confirmed with a nod and a big hug.  Her uncle died of cancer while she was serving, so she is familiar with the process of grieving.

         Anyways, I tried to push the looming phone call out of my mind and we worked hard today.  We had some really great lessons and we found a new family to teach.  But, in the moments between talking, teaching, and testifying, my mind raced with all of the different possibilities of why my parents would call me: car wreck, family death, cancer, something happening to Garrison on his mission, etc.  My sweet companion showed true compassion today and really helped me cope with the feelings of anticipation and panic.  She made chicken soup for lunch and called Sister Lima to get permission for me to take drugs for my long lasting diarrhea problem. She also took command of our lessons, and gave me space and time to think when I needed it.  Even then, I worked 9.5 hours today with a pit in my stomach. 

         After a long day of work, the call finally came with my Mom and Dad calling directly through to my cell phone.  They didn’t mince words, and very directly explained the situation. Though they gave detailed descriptions of all that they knew, there were a few words that punctuated the conversation: Dad, cancer, 10 years, chemo, stem cell transplant, testing, plasma cells, pain, etc…

         I don’t know quite how to describe the impact this kind of news has on you when you are striving every day to serve as a missionary.  We see trials in other people’s lived, helping other people move forward, an then to hear the words, “Your Dad has cancer.”  It just stops you. Suddenly your focus turns from helping people with their problems, to realizing that you are going to be the one needing hope and healing.

         My parents reassured me that the prognosis is bearable given some difficult treatments ahead, that my dad is strong enough to endure it, and that they feel that they have great access to the best treatments available.  But even then, it is a shock that I am sure will hang around for a while.  My father might not be there when my children are baptized, receive the priesthood, or get married.  THAT is huge.  My mom will likely lose her companion prematurely.  THAT is huge.  My lifelong fear of losing one of my parents prematurely is a real possibility.  THAT is huge. 

         But you know, life goes on. Our family will be strengthened through this trial.  We have great support through church, friends, and family.  It will be all right in the end.  We live with a living, breathing knowledge that through Christ, we will be raised again.  Through God’s perfect plan and through his infinite priesthood power, my family is sealed together with and eternal bond. My dad will always be my dad.  My mom will always be my mom.  I have complete confidence that the pains and sufferings in this life are merely a blink of an eye in our eternal progression.  Life goes on.  I am so grateful to be here on a mission, to be able to be so close to the Spirit, to strive every day to serve others.  I hope that for the next 8 months I can continue to work, serve, and love with all of my heart, might, mind, and strength to bring peace and happiness to others.  Well it is very late, time to try to sleep.

Thursday March 27

We had to get up at 5:00, endure 3 hour of public transportation, and then have our evaluation for the newbies.  We received good instruction, I held it (mostly) together and Sister R. was a rock star.  She has really progressed a lot.  I have full confidence that she will be a great leader in this mission.  After lunch, I asked Elder Papworth to give me a blessing. When I was super sick in the MTC, his blessing brought me great comfort and peace.  This blessing this time around brought that same sweet spirit. I just love that kid.  I am so grateful for these kind, worthy, sincere, and well-prepared young priesthood holders.  After Elder Papworth gave me a blessing today, he gave me this note before leaving: “For the lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them into living fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.”  Revelation 7:17.

         After the blessing, President Lima called me in for a private interview.  Once again I realized the complete lack of emotional connection I feel for him.  His advice, “ look to the future, keep working.” It felt like cookie cutter standardized speech that he had delivered to a dozen other unfortunate missionaries in similar situations.  Needless to say, I did not leave his office feeling emotionally lighter. 

         On the up side, I DID get a package!  How fortuitous!  The AP’s helped us carry our packages all the way to the metro station.  Our APs compensate for the lack of warmth of our president.  They connect easily with people, are humble, and it is very clear that they are concerned about you as an individual, not just as one more missionary.

         We got back to our area around 6:30 p.m. and oh man was I every emotionally drained! I opted out of talking to 30 strangers on the dog-poop laden streets of Rio, in favor of opening my care package.  Sister R. also got a package full of junk food.  My Mom thoughtfully included birthday cards for me (a month early).  I needed them!  After we opened our packages, I opted to go to the chapel and play piano for a half an hour.  Then we went and taught Al. and Jos.  The spirit was the strongest that I have ever felt it. We didn’t have a lesson plan, we hadn’t practiced anything beforehand, and we were simply guided by the spirit to the right questions to ask and the right things to answers to give.  We taught and testified of the Plan of Salvation, answers to prayers, and eternal families.  Everyone was moved, and we committed Jos. to baptism.  It was yet another manifestation that the Lord is in control and that I am in Brasil for a reason.

Friday, March 28

         Rough day…exhaustion caught up to me.  I recounted, “my dad has cancer” to at least 5 people, and each time it emotionally drains me.  Not to mention that I cannot get rid of this horrible diarrhea.  I made it through our weekly planning session, lunch at An. and P., and our lesson with G and J.   Three appointments fell through, and by 6:00 pm I was pretty much useless.  My usual confidence and enthusiasm was completely gone.  We headed for home.  I slept for an hour, and then we headed to the chapel with an interview with our bishop.  The interview with him was infinitely more personal and spiritual than with my President. BUT, hearing “this is part of God’s plan, and God will cure your Father, “ are just not very comforting things to me right now.  I already know and understand our purpose here on earth.  I know this is just one more trial to endure in our mortal life. I have not once questioned, “Why him? Why now?”  I know why.  I spend hours every day explaining why.  I don’t want to hear another person telling me what I already understand.  And on the side of miracles and cures…that is not what I am expecting at this point.  Perhaps I am lacking the same complete faith that wrought miracles for my bishop, but I tend to live more on the realistic side of life; the side that seed good people suffering, and leaving this life without miracles, without being cured – as part of our earthly trials and human state.  I know that my bishop has good intents, he is a wonderful man and a loving and compassionate leader, but all I want to hear right now is, “I’m sorry, I am here for you, and I love you.”  (followed by a big hug)  Our ward mission leader, bless him, was awesome.  He didn’t know what to say, but just told me that if I weren’t a missionary he would give me a big hug. 

Saturday, March 29  

         Today is another day, another chance to move forward. I know that my family is out there continuing to love me and pray for me.  My ward family here is outstanding, and I have complete confidence that they will help me bounce back.  There is work to be done!

   ........ 2:00 p.m. …Well, crap. We are in the hospital right now. My diarrhea is worse, and there is blood.  This is nothing like I imagined my mission to be.  The good news is that I don’t have worms or a bacterial infection (as well I shouldn’t after the meds I have taken), but I have a tear from the weeks of pooping incessantly. This week is proving to be a killer.  I am praying for help, and I do fell strengthened, but there are just a lot of things to process and work through, which is hard when you are so far from your family. Sitting in a hospital is the worst waste of time ever.

         I keep replaying that short 25-minute phone call with my parents.  It was so strange to hear their voices. It was stranger to hear my mom delivering the news in a careful, practical, calm manner that only comes through years of training.  It was strange to hang up to once again feel that great disconnect that you feel from your family while you are on a mission. What a week.

Monday, March 31

I am doing a LOT better than on Saturday--we got back to work and had a few really testimony-building experiences of teaching and testifying.  Diarrhea has finally stopped!!!  I’m working through the feelings and am moving forward. Things are good when I am out working, walking, teaching, talking, and testifying, but the in-between moments sure are rough. I love you guys.