Would You Sell Your Soul? Would You Sell Their Soul?

Hey Everyone!

This week has gone by even faster than the last one. If that's possible. So lets see what's happened...I don't even remember.

 

We finished with our first investigator Ricarda, and we found out that she will now be one of our teachers. She's been in Colorado visiting her sister, but hopefully she will be back by to tonight.

 

So when we found out that we had only one lesson left with Ricarda, my Companion and I started to get worried. We had asked her to be baptized and she had said that she didn't really understand why she had to pick one church, because all churches were good. She didn't understand the authority and such that was restored. And so we mapped out across a white board in an empty class room the things that we wanted to teach in our last lesson. We took a picture of it and showed it to our Branch President, and he was impressed. I asked him what he did if he ever got nervous, and he asked me if I had done my part preparing. When I told him yes showing him my notecards and talking about it for a minute, he said if I had done my part, I didn't need to be afraid. And so we went into the lesson. I had been studying Preach My Gospel, and found a scripture to share with Ricarda earlier that day, it was in Ephisians 4:5 "One Lord, one faith, one baptism." That's all it said. I'd actually found more scriptures but didn't remember to use them during the lesson, but this one, I rememebered. I shared it with her, and we talked a little biut about it. Then I asked her very distinctly "Do you believe in One God?" Yes. "Do you believe in one faith?" Yes. "Do you believe in  One Baptism?" Yes. I could tell that Ricarda could feel the Spirit, as her eyes started to fill with tears. And the funny thing was, I don't think I said a word. The Spirit had used me to ask Ricarda those questions, and it was a very profound moment. I knew I couldn't have done that alone, and deffinatly not in Spanish. Right after I finished asking, my companion took it and did her part. Ricarda said at the end that if she came to find that the Church was true for herself, then she would be baptized. I know that God cares about all of His children, even if they are a fake investigator.

 

This week for personal study, I've been reading come conference talks. I reread the one by Elder Ballard this last fall. SO GOOD. I marked it all up again and then when I looked at the whole thing, my work was impressive. So I decided to take a picture of it. Our Branch President's wife happen to pop her head in right then, and saw what I was doing, she looked down at the article and asked me if there was anything that I hadn't highlighted, circled our underlined. I don't think there was. The other talk I read was called "What Shall a Man Give in Exchange for His Soul?" by Elder Robert C. Gay. Another one to recommend reading. I'm sure you all rememeber it from conference, but I'll sum it up. When he was 11 he bought a movie ticket and candy bars with his 50 cent allowence, and when he turned 12 he realized he couldn't get as many candy bars since his movie ticket would cost more. So he lied and bout the 11 year old ticket. he told his father later, and his father asked him "Son would you sell your soul for a nickle?" I thought about this a lot this week. "Would you sell your soul for a nickle?" What about a short skirt? A ball game? 15 more minutes of sleep instead of scriptures study? What is the one thing that you, and I, could do better on? Are the things that we are attaining, better or more important than enteral life? Never. As I thought about this I thought about how it could apply to missionary work. This week I've been really wrapped in just being BOLD. Just opening my mouth. Now, when we are not being bold, and not speaking because we are afraid of our Spanish or if our friends will never talk to us again, we are sacrificing their enteral life, for OUR on comfort. Open your mouth. Are you will to sell their soul, and salvation, for your comfort. Never. Just open your mouth and speak.

 

Opening my mouth even when it is uncomfortable has been one of the things that I have had to work on here, even when I'm not speaking Spanish. For example, my companion and I were role playing a discussion with one of the other Hermana's in our Zone, the conversation was going well, and then I was prompted to relate my conversion story, per say, to something that we had talked about in the very beginning of the lesson. The story about how I had taken President Hinckley's challenge and read the BOM and how I had gained my own testimony (For the full story, see my Mormon.ord profile) The problem was, I would be uncomfortable bring the covnerstation back to the beginning, and I didn't really know how to do it. But the feeling wouldn't go away. My compaion and the other Hermana was going to think I was crazy. But all I needed was 20 secoinds of insane courage while I was uncomfortable, and the nI would let the Spirit lead me. It wasn't and investogator, and maybe I was being prompted purley for me to gain courage in my own words and promptings, but in that moment, my life changed. Open your mouth. Even when you feel uncomfortable. Especially when you feel uncomfortable.

 

Hermana Montgomery

6 Days In...

Well hi everyone. This timer counting down my time on the computer is really freaking me out. I don't do well under such pressure.

 

So I'm 6 days into my mission, and what on earth have I learned? Well...

 

1. Spanish is hard. I've learned how to pray, bear my testimony, sing a few hymns and how to have introductory conversations, and that's about it.
2. Doing your hair here is over-rated when you have 30 minutes to get ready in the morning. I'm not sure which hurts more, my ego or everyone else's eyes. It's debatable.
3. I have no time here. Every. Day. It's a struggle. We were told that our missions will be the longest days and the shortest weeks. The longest weeks and the shortest months. The longest months and the shortest years. I've already seen that in action.
4. An Elder told me that the MTC has a higher stress level than an military training camp does. He explained that we are experiencing more stress here than "guys who get thair nails ripped out of them." We told him to stop talking. Luckily, I still have all my nails to paint.
5. I am in the largest incoming group of missionaries that the MTC has seen in about 12 years. They had all of the sisters stand in relief society that had come in that week, and about 3/4 of the sister stood up.
6. One of my favorite parts was on the second day, we were in a meeting, teaching us about how we will be teaching individual people with different and real needs, and out teacher asked us "Do you know what is coming behind you? Do you know what you are at the front of?" talking about all of the missionaries that are about to burst out and flood the earth. it's an incredible feeling to be a part of that.

But, it's also a little scary, and very hard. Let me tell you about it So. On day three, we got to teach our first investogator. In SPANISH! As the time to teaching came closer, our lesson got shorter and shorter. All the other missionaries kept telling us to have faith and God would bless us with the gift of tongues. And when we finally got in there, I blanked on everything that I knew in spanish and let my campanion take the lead. It was the worst feeling that I've ever had. I felt SO out of control as I just sat there. Now, I love words. And I love teaching. And I know I'm good at it, so it's in my comfort zone. But when all of that was taken away from me when I couldn't speak, I didn't have anything. It was probably the most humbling experience I've ever had. Now, at this point, I'm thinking "gift of tongues...WWHHAATT??" because I couldn't say anything. That night, I felt like I was completly helpless. What could I do as a missionary, if I couldn't even talk?

 

The next morning, we got a second chance, with almost no time to plan. My compaion and I went in deciding to teach about prayer and the atonement. I shared 1 nephi 21:16, and then all I could say was "nails, hands, Christ Suffered for us. For me. For you. To be clean." My companion shared a very short limited experience of hers, and I told our investogator Ricarda "This is difficult for me. Life is difficult. But Christ Suffered for us so that we can be clean and be made whole." I realized then that the Atonement covers my Spanish too. Christ knew that this would be hard for me, and how helpless I would feel without my words, and he fixed that too.  My companion and I both cried as we prayed with her at the end. And then in the hall we prayed again, and sobbed. So red and puffy eyed, we hugged each other and I whispered in Spanish "Sister, this is hard." It is hard. It will probably be the hardest thing that I have done in my life so far. But I'll probably never do something so great in my life either. Elder Holland said in a devotional we watched last night "The Atonement wasn't easy for the Savior, so why should this be easy for us?" So true. It's a hard thing. Life is a hard thing. But we were so excited to come. I was so excited to come. AM excited. It's a beautiful thing.

 

I love my Companion Hermana Hopkins. We are kindred spirits. For sure. I love my district. I love this work. I love my Savior.

 

Share the gospel. Every needs to hear it. Everyone deserves it. It's the good news we have.  Missionaries are flooding the earth. Like in the song.

 

"Daugters of promise, lets stand and be heard. We are joining together flooding the earth.

 

I'm out of time. I love you all. Write ALL the missionaries. They needs it at love it.

 

Hermana Montgomery

Not Waiting

Well. I would like to take this chance to write a little bit about why I decided to go on a mission, before I actually leave, to maybe get into the missionary mood. It still seems surreal. Let’s Begin.

I’ve always wanted to serve a mission. Even when I was a little girl I remember planning with my older sisters how we would sneak onto missions dressed as boys like Mulan did in the movie, if by the time we were old enough girls for some reason or another couldn’t go on missions. It was always just this huge desire that I had. But that was a long ways in the future, and I still had a lot of growing up to do. And so I waited.

And as the years passed and my sisters and I matured, somewhat, both of my sisters left on missions, and I desperately wanted to leave with them. It was almost an obsession how badly I wanted to go. But I still had almost three years until I would be twenty-one and old enough to go. Before my sister left in December of 2011, I talked with her about getting special permission to leave at nineteen, she said it wasn’t likely. And so I waited.

In April of 2012 I wrote in my journal about the need I felt to go to the Temple. In response I wrote “I mostly feel like I need to go to the Temple, which is crazy, because I would have to be getting married, or going on a mission. And neither of those things are in the near future. So what’s going on? I keep feeling like I need to prepare because I’m going on a mission soon. Maybe that’s just because I have two sisters out on missions.” And so I waited.

I started my third semester at BYU-Idaho and became involved and busy with my classes, work and friends. But still, I felt like I was just not doing enough, I was looking and waiting for something to come along, looking up study abroads and trying to find some greater work to do. Something that I could really throw myself into and make a difference, but nothing was really sticking.

The first week of October 2012, I watched and heard of friends from high school and college going through the Temple and leaving on missions, asking myself “why am I still here? I should be out with them.” Honestly, I felt jipped. And so I waited.

That week, while studying my scriptures, I felt very distinctly three different times, that I needed to prepare to go to the Temple. How was this going to happen? I was so confused, but knew I needed to look into things and ask questions, because I was given those promptings for a reason. But I didn’t know how to approach that situation. That weekend was General Conference, and I would be traveling down to Provo, Utah to be with my family. I decided to pray about these promptings and ask for a way to open up so that I could do what had been asked of me. I briefly brought up my situation to my sister, who was home on medical leave from her mission, the night before conference, and still I fell asleep more confused than ever. And so I waited.

The next morning as conference was starting, I was in the other room printing off bingo sheets for my younger brothers and sisters for conference when I heard President Monson start to talk about missionaries. As he started to talk about the age change for young men from nineteen to eighteen, I wasn’t even fazed. However, as I heard him say the words sister missionaries, I froze. This was important. It was at this point that the rest of my family started screaming for me to come back in the room, thinking that I couldn’t hear a word that was being said. As I went in and heard the announcement that sister missionaries could now serve  at age nineteen instead of twenty-one, I wasn’t shocked at all. In fact, I’ve never felt more at peace in my life. It was as if I was just being reminded of this announcement, almost like an “oh, of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” moment. Everything now made perfect sense. I would turn nineteen in twenty-three days, and I would serve a mission. No more waiting. 

Exactly four months later, to the date, I will be entering the Provo MTC to learn Spanish and serve in the Texas San Antonio mission.

Life is good.

And if anyone asks, I am excited. I'm scared and nervous and giddy and freaking out a bit, maybe a lot, as well. But, I’m not waiting.

This gospel is so precious to me, and I can’t imagine my life without it. It covers everything in our lives, and is always that foundation which I have built my life on, and been supported by. And everyone deserves  the chance to have that. That’s why I want to serve a mission. To spread the good news of the gospel with those around me. And now, I have that chance.

Bring on the next eighteen months.