Letter #52 09/16/13

Dear Family and Friends,

Last week I wrote about the "Santa Rosa" (tropical storm) that happened last week. Apparently Saint Rose heard me and decided to show her true colors. It's been raining for four days straight, and is forecasted to last for a few more days, with strong winds. My umbrella broke yesterday from the wind so I am mostly using it as a polka-dotted shield in front of me, because the rain here falls sideways. I finally heard the story about why it's called Santa Rosa: In the early days of the colonies in Uruguay, the Dutch or the English or French (the member lady who told me couldn't remember which, but it's one of the three) came to invade. The inhabitants along the coast prayed to Saint Rose to protect them. In response, she sent a huge storm that prevented the Dutch/English/French ships from landing. I understand-- in a storm like this I'd give up trying to invade Uruguay too. Fortunately, I'm preaching the gospel instead, and God is more powerful than any storm.

Saint Rose also seems to be against investigators coming to church. We have been teaching a great young couple who in our last lesson invited themselves to church without us even bringing up the subject. We passed by on Saturday night to see if they were still coming and Javier came out and greeted us with a broken wrist. We went inside the house to find Yeni, his girlfriend, lying in bed looking weak and yellowish. Apparently she had passed out shortly before we got there and were about to leave for the hospital. We said a prayer with them so everything would go well at the hospital, and that she would recuperate soon. I told them that if they felt better they were still welcome at church the next day, and Javier responded enthusiastically that they would do everything possible to come, which surprised me. They must have had something happen because they didn't show. We're going to visit them today to find out.

One of our strongest investigators (the one we found last week that was the miracle) dropped us on Sunday morning when we called to remind her about church.

I hate Satan.

Like my wonderful companion keeps saying, "Everything happens for a reason." I believe that too, it's just a little frustrating when we feel like we've done everything we can and we don't immediately see the results. I understand a little bit more about how Heavenly Father and Jesus must feel when I do something I should, or don't do something I know I should. I imagine Christ thinking to Himself, "I suffered and died and gave everything for you, so you could be preaching My gospel. Please start Personal Study at 8:00 instead of 8:02. It's the least you could do." I'm not saying that I'm a disobedient missionary; there will always be things to improve, but the experiences this week have made me see with more clarity the great love that God has for every one of His precious children, and how sad he feels when they disobey or don't understand the consequences of their actions.

Anyway, a little about the ward:

Our bishop is really cool. He has one eye and works in construction. He has three kids, and they just got another dog: a German shepherd. Since they live right behind us and we share the same yard, I feel like we just got a new dog too! I also feel safer than ever to have two worthy Melchizedek priesthood holders in front and behind us.

There is a great brother in the ward named Leo, who teaches Sunday school every other week. He is wheelchair-bound and has trouble speaking, but I have never met anyone before with a testimony of Jesus Christ that seems to radiate so powerfully out of every part of his being.

The sister who coordinates our lunches every day is named Maruja, and she's like another grandma to me-- mi abuelita. She's one of the oldest members in the ward and is hard of hearing, and I think that about 75% of the time she just guesses what we're saying, because some of her responses are really out of context. Love her to death, though.

Speaking of old ladies, Bishop Machado's mother lives with them, and I am now convinced that she's no longer completely sane. She gave my  companion quite the scare our second week. At first we didn't have curtains, but we used to get dressed in the back room of our house that just has one window that looks out onto the bishop's patio, but it's placed in such a way that you don't naturally look into it as you pass by. My companion was changing and I was in the kitchen when I suddenly hear a loud gasp, followed by "Oh! Hola!" followed by old-woman laughter. Luckily, the bishop's mom had just popped her head in the window at exactly the moment my comp finished changing. Don't worry, we have curtains now.

Anyway, Love you all, hope all is well.

Love you forever,

Hermana Phillips

Letter #51 09/09/2013

Dear Friends and Family,

We woke up Friday night to rain pounding furiously on our roof of corrugated metal. It rained all day Saturday and was blowing like crazy. The elders told us it was a "Santa Rosa," which means it would be raining with strong winds for at least four days. Three days later there's hardly a cloud in the sky, and the weather warmed up so much people are starting to walk around in their shorts and tank-tops-- minus the missionaries, of course, and everyone thinks we're crazy. When I looked up "Uruguay" on the internet before the mission, it said that the country is "susceptible to frequent weather changes." An understatement if I ever heard one.

This last week was full of challenges, ending with a beautiful tender mercy and answer to prayer. We began the week with a really high number of new investigators (30), but by Friday we had dropped almost all of them, or they had dropped us. The Lord is full of tender mercies, however, which we knew, so Hermana Nelson wisely suggested that we fast this Sunday. The first person that we talked to after ending our fast was an incredibly prepared single mom of three kids who believes strongly in God and in family values, and who now has a baptismal date for the end of this month. Without us even bringing up the subject, she informed us she would be coming to church, and she would be bringing her kids (all above age 8) with her. An incredible experience-- it humbled me and filled me with gratitude. I am so happy here and learning so much about myself and about the Lord.

I've also been seeing my ordinarily pessimistic attitude gradually changing, mostly due to my wonderful companion. She is always so happy and enthusiastic, and so aware and grateful for her blessings. She makes me play her "gratitude game" with her, in which we basically take turns naming our blessings until you run out of blessings. Of course, we're still not finished.

I've been reading "Our Heritage" in my personal study, and loving it. It shares so many stories of the incredible sacrifices made by the early saints. It's basically about how no one had food or clothes or money or a home, and had to travel thousands of miles. It's very humbling. I looked up from reading yesterday and looked around my house. I realized that there was literally nothing there that I could see that those early saints, much less those early missionaries had. When the sun is really hot and my feet hurt, I think, "At least I'm not walking barefoot over the sharp, frozen wilderness of Iowa to escape a Mormon-hating mob." It gives me a little comfort, and also motivation. That is not just the heritage of the church-- that is MY heritage. I come from a long line of noble disciples of the Savior Jesus Christ. Because they sacrificed so much, I am able to preach the gospel and become the means through which people can learn about the Savior's Atonement.

Mom, a few weeks ago you asked me to send you something for Grandma's birthday. I guess that's it-- a giant "THANK YOU." There are no words that can express how grateful I feel to my Father in Heaven for placing me in a family that loves me, keeps it's covenants, and is strong in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. When I was 15, I got my patriarchal blessing. In it, it states that "There are those who are very close to (me) who have been great examples of faith, endurance, and stability." Every day I begin to realize how true that is. My family is the greatest blessing the Lord has given me, apart from my testimony of Him.

Grandma, I love you. I love your love of the Lord, and I love your testimony of Him. Thank you for the countless hugs and kisses you gave to me as a little girl, a struggling teenager, and a confused young adult. Thank you for your faith in me and our family. Thank you for the numberless pounds of mashed potatoes. Thank you for the opportunity to make testimony gloves with you. Thank you for supporting me in my mission. Thank you for countless hours of fun with cousins that I had in your back yard and at the crater. All those blessings (and so many more that I can't even count because I only get an hour on the computer) were possible because of your personal righteousness and your faithfulness to your covenants. Thank you. You are a huge part of my heritage.

Love you forever,

Hermana Phillips