Girls, Theft, and a 300 Pound Tongan (Feb. 22, '16)

Girls, Theft, and a 300 Pound Tongan

February 22, 2016

News:

I moved houses, but wasn't transferred. That was a frustrating situation. It would seem that when you are the only missionaries in a house and then you move out, it results in ridiculous levels of cleaning required on your part. 

We had to scrub the bathrooms 3 times each...

But whatever, now we are in a new house and have mga kabahay, or roommates. It's actually a very nice bahay. We don't have ant problems, which is amazing, and it's pretty spacious for a one floor apartment. We're going to clean today though, because even though it was a sister's bahay before we got there, they didn't do the hard cleaning we had to, for some strange reason. That all said, once again, it had nothing to do with transfers.

There may be a situation however, and we may move again. It would seem that our bahay is in an apartment complex which is inhabited entirely by college age girls. Yes, other than the owner's husband and son, we are the only males... So it's not too likely we'll be there much longer. But nothing has been said yet...

Mga kabahay are a little unhealthy for us though. One of them is just like my companion, so they get along way too well, i.e. can't focus on being missionaries as much as what they left behind. But we'll get there.

They are trying to teach me sarcasm. Unfortunately, though I wished to remain naive and innocent, there's not much I can do when I'm swimming in the toxic stuff every day. I would seem to be becoming sarcastic. But it's not like that's a bad thing that has been put down by apostles...

We had a really cool activity last Saturday. It was called Flight 2016. They basically turned the entire chapel of the church into an airplane, and then had it crash and everyone "died." Then they led people through the stages of the plan of salvation. So everyone on the plane died, and based on whether they had a red ticket (bad life) or blue ticket (good life) they went to either spirit paradise or spirit prison. Then they just went through the rest of the stuff. It was a great activity for investigators and less actives alike to learn the plan of God for us all.

We had interviews, like has been mentioned. It was a good experience. It lets you reevaluate and change where you are going in the mission, change what you are going to say, do, and be. It is a spiritual experience for certain, by the time you are done you realize you said nothing you intended but learned and felt everything you needed. So yeah, that's great.

Tingle is doing just fine. he's always a joy.

The move did something terrible though. People here are fast:

I brought the Cola Cao to my new bahay. It should have lasted me the rest of the year at least. But when we unloaded the taxi, we left everything outside for about 2 minutes... not even.

But one box was gone.

NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! MY COLA CAO!!!!!!!!

So yeah. Should have lasted me forever, but it's gone. 

I won't lie. I cried.

Actually that's a lie, I didn't cry, but I did have some great emotional turmoil. The term here is Sayang, and if you can look that up, that's what I felt.

My companion is a barrel of laughs, and not a bad missionary, but we are opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to who we are. We constantly pity each other:

me: "You never read books?! I'm sorry for you."
him: "You read lots of books?! I'm sorry for you."

me: "You never saw Star Wars?! I can't believe it!"
him: "You don't know Tom Brady?! I can't believe it!"

me: "You never watched It's a Wonderful Life?!"
him: "You never watched Prison Break?!"

me: "You didn't listen to classic?!"
him: "You didn't listen to rap?!"

him: "Who was Babe Ruth? A Mexican?"
me: "When you say someone is bad, how is that a good thing?"

So basically all that ties us together is that we are missionaries...

He is a big guy. He has to stack two chairs when he sits because he destroys a single plastic chair. He's 300 pounds or so, and has a scholarship for football to University of Oregon. I don't know anything about universities, so I don't know what that means, but anyways...

He is of Tongan nationality, but he's one of the more obedient islanders. They are all spiritual people, but there is something of a rebellious streak in many of them. He however, does not succumb to it. 

We both are just working on diligence. 

Speaking of such, if you ever want an activity to improve yourself, use chapter 6 of Preach My Gospel. Most of it can be applied to people even if they aren't missionaries, and developing Christ-like attributes gives you new strength. 

But I'm basically out of time. 

With love,

Elder Streeter

A Few Good Thoughts (February 8, 2016)

February 8, 2016

A Few Good Thoughts

I don't have a ton of time to respond.
Some spiritual thoughts for the family before I log out:
Jesus Christ is the great I Am.
His atonement is the great We Can.

If it's something good, then the atonement always puts those two words in front.
We can be forgiven. We can overcome sin. We can live again. We can return to God. 
We can become!

All we need is humility: We're willing.
And obedience: We will. 

But of course, it's easier said than done. I hope to always study the atonement. The insights I am receiving are better than any knowledge I had before. At one point it was a solitary occurrence a long time ago in a place far from me.
Now it is every miracle that happens in my life, every good act or kind word I see, every star, every face.

Hey, Joe! (January 25, 2016)

Date

January 25, 2016

Hey, Joe!

It's been an all right week. I'm getting better at working with my new companion, and he is a lot of fun. 
We OYMed some really big houses, because we actually have some super rich property in our area. I had a blast, because Elder is really good at irony.

He looked at a house, and saw that there were six cars in the driveway. and a golf cart. Then he turned to me and told me: "Welp, there's obviously no one in that house, because there's only six cars."

I've run into some funny situations with OYMing, or basically, talking to strangers to try to share our message, or knocking on doors to try to share our message. One:

A guy walked past us. The thing that Filipinos like to do, for some reason, is say "Hey Joe!" to every person with white skin. I think they are intending to mean it as a way to make fun or something, but it never feels that way. 

One guy is walking past us, he sees me and then turns into a broken record: "Hey Joe! Hey Joe! Hey Joe! Hey Joe! Hey Joe!" 

So I turn towards him and say:

"Kumusta Kayo?"

He responds by saying "Hey-ey!" laughing, and then cusses me off with the F-word. Elder was laughing very hard that night. And the next day. And the day after. And right now...

Another experience: We knocked on a house. We hear scurrying, and then a child comes out on the balcony. He shouts (in Tagalog of course): "Dad isn't here. You'll have to come back another day." I accept it, but want to know where I am, so I shout up: "What address is this?"

The child struggles for a few minutes, then turns around and shouts into the house: "Dad, what address is this?"

...

We knocked on a different house. An old lady came out. She asked what we wanted, so I began by introducing ourselves and saying we were missionaries. I was in the middle of asking if we could share with her when she shouted out to us: "AY! We're all sick! We have diarrhea! Do you want diarrhea? No? Well then Goodbye!"

Finally, we knocked on a house, and we heard a window open. We looked up and a man looked out at us. We had said nothing, and he said nothing. He simply shook his head and waved his hand, and shook and waved and shook and waved until we turned and left. That was the first silent OYM I've ever had. He said nothing and somehow gave us no chance to say anything...

I also had been beating myself up. 

I make mistakes all the time, and feel that every mistake costs another soul, every mistake means I've failed to bring happiness. Because of my imperfection, they turned away from the perfect message...
which made me sad. I felt that perhaps I would be accountable when these people found out eventually that they had missed the truth, that because of my mistakes and sins I would not be able to gain all the blessings of God. I felt that some sins and mistakes don't allow for forgiveness...

But then, in stark contrast, I begin to understand things a little clearer. I do not doubt that forgiveness is available, that I can repent. I do not fear that blessings are lost permanently, for I realize now, that if the top could, now, never, in all eternity, be achieved, what purpose would there be in continuing to progress? If, because of what you've done, you will never be able to get a passing grade, what purpose is there in continuing to study? I feel more than ever that the true message is exemplified by peace, by hope, by faith, by happiness, by courage and no fear. 

Faith is opposed by doubt, and always will be, which means that whenever you have doubt, you have less faith. 

But Faith is central to the gospel, it is the first step and that which carries you through all of them. I should not doubt what the Lord can do, for all can be done by him, and if he can split the red sea through the faith of Moses, he can retrieve me from these sins, and lead me to perfection and exaltation, with my faith. It is my doubt, and that alone, which will prevent this.

Funny enough I have always hated cynicism. I hate the world's constant efforts to throw dirt on heroes in history, to darken fairy tales, to make muddy our perception of the world, to display endless scenes of hopelessness, to laugh at anything out there which says: "There is good, there is kindness, there is Christ in every soul. He lives, He loves, He hopes for all to know that through him there is peace, that through him there is love, that through him there is healing, and the greatest of feelings! Rejoice! Become clean! Become holy! Become free!" 

I hate the voice that says: "It's too good to be true, so it must not be real." Why must we mock the thought that a man can become better? Why do we doubt that those we meet could be kind? Why must we focus on the dirt, and the doubt, and the darkness, and, in pride at our depression because we proved ourselves right, in grim satisfaction at our destruction of heroes and ideals, dub these things as "reality"? Why must we say that THIS perception is "realism?”

Somehow we don't see, that when you throw dirt onto something it will become dirty. So we throw dirt onto it, and then look at it and say: Wow! Look how dirty that is. I told you it was nasty.

Somehow we think that it counts if we say beforehand "My wound isn't healed," then go and look at the wound, and then when we see it looks healed, pry it open to make sure it's healed. We pull our hands away and look at the wound and see it is red and open and ugly, and say, “I told you! I told you! It isn't healed, see?”

Somehow we do as Dieter F. Uchtdorf said: We unplug the spotlight, and then look and say that it isn't giving light, just as we said it wasn't, and are pleased and gratified in our pride because we were right.
We don't see to see that we made it that way!

And yet that is exactly what I had been doing.

So I will not doubt. I will not fear. I know that all can be obtained, for if it were not so, what a terrible waste was the infinite and eternal Atonement of Jesus Christ.

From,
Elder Streeter