Being a missionary has given me the opportunity to meet a lot of people. You teach them, you watch them grow, and you learn to love them. I've become very attached to the people I've befriended here in California. And every once in a while, you find that loving people opens you up to being hurt by them. My heart has been crushed a lot recently.
I found out this week that my favorite Jewish friend, who was on track to be baptized in Jurupa soon, got scared of the familial implications of joining our church and told the missionaries to stop coming by. That hurt a lot. I want this lady to join the church SO BADLY. And I know that the spirit pushed me really hard to ask the sister missionaries to go visit her. So to hear that she dropped them like she dropped us, well, I felt like I just got dumped. It was painful. In fact, it brought me down almost all day Saturday.
Not too long ago, I found out that a lady I baptized in Jurupa had moved to Moreno Valley, but that she didn't get her records moved because she didn't want the missionaries to bug her. I got permission to talk to her and visit with her if I could. Well, she didn't really sound excited to have me come see her, either, and told me that she doesn't consider herself Mormon anymore. OUCH.
My companion has been struggling a lot recently, as well, and he may not last another transfer in the mission, despite my best efforts to keep his spirits afloat. We play games together, we talk about nerdy things together, we study the gospel together, we talk about his feelings together, and we keep on top of the missionary work in a pretty spectacular fashion. We've turned this area around in a big way, and it might pay off in baptisms soon. But he told me this week that he's probably going to go home early to try and work things out.
On Sunday, all of this was weighing down on my heavily. It didn't help that I slept in that morning and didn't read my scriptures at all. During sacrament meeting, it occurred to me that I would rather love and be hurt than not love at all. And sharing God's love with people will never be a poor investment. God's love conquers all. And I need that charity for everyone in order to be in God's presence. Charity never fails.
I made quite a few connections this week. We had a drunk guy offer his daughter's hand in marriage to us while tracting. I met both Don and Suzie Taylor at the temple this week, and I can tell how they would be great friends of my Grandma Hansen. I discovered that my Zone Leader went to four years of seminary with my Uncle as his teacher in Texas. I got to teach a lesson with a brother, who I found out last week is the grandson of the man who ordained my grandfather a high priest.
Oh, and that recent convert who doesn't consider herself a Mormon anymore? She was having a rough time and called me up on Sunday. Our teamup took us over to talk to her at a park near her house, and we had a very productive visit. She insisted on making a return appointment. I think we will get the sister missionaries in with her very soon. The spirit changed her demeanor completely over the course of our visit. I love it when that happens. The one downside: We were late for my companion's birthday dinner. Today is his 20th birthday! Happy Birthday! He got an Iron Man toy that he loves to bits and a journal with some cool testimonies written in it, courtesy of our Ward Mission Leader and his family.
All in all, I have been very uplifted recently. I got broken down this week, but between the miracles of Sunday and my temple trip on Friday, God has definitely given me some hope. Never give up hope, because God hasn't given up on you.
And above all, I know that charity makes my life worth living. I will forever be praying with all of the energy of heart that I may be filled with this love. Moroni 7:47-48.
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