The Gift of Being Broken

It's been a contemplative week.  I've had a lot of time to think and ponder. (Warning:  Not many pictures and I have a lot to say.  So I hope you can endure.)  We've had a stomach flu bug going through the mission and I took my turn one day. (Actually a day and a half.)  And my nearly 70 year old knees are rebelling so I've not been walking much.  Now that I have the physical complaints logged in, I'll get on with my blog.  Thank you very much for letting me unload!

What I have on my mind, I don't want you to take in the wrong way so my preface is that a mission can be the best 18 - 24 months of one's life. I hear returned missionaries say that often and I truly believe that.  It is a time to be close to the Savior and to feel the constant influence of the Holy Ghost, to love and serve your fellow man, and to grow spiritually in the Gospel.  It is a blessing to be able to teach about Jesus Christ and to see the lives of people change in miraculous ways when they truly convert and become disciples of our Savior.

It is also a very difficult time for some.  For many missionaries, it is the first time away from the life they know and away from their families for an extended period of time.  It is the first time they have had to be totally responsible for themselves physically and emotionally and to think of being with a companion 24/7 whether you get along or not. It may be the first time they have really had to think, plan and make goals.  They may have a preconceived notion about what the mission will be like.  For some it is a complete shock when they have to get up day after day at 6:30 and be in bed by 10:30.  They have to walk and walk and work and work.  It's 100 degrees and 60% humidity or 32 degrees and snowing.  It is not a vacation.  It is HARD!  Some thrive on this work. Others not so much.

My unique position as the mission nurse gives me insights that others may not have.  It breaks my heart as I watch a few missionaries struggling so hard to stay afloat.  Some come with problems that are exacerbated by the stresses of mission life and some develop after they arrive.  (Anxiety and stress affects all aspects of one's life, physical and mental.)  I say a few because there are 200 missionaries here, give or take depending on the new arrivals and departures, and only a handful that are really struggling, so please don't think missions are bad.  Far from it.  I delight in the missionaries and grow in faith as I hear them teach and bear their testimonies.  It is an awesome and wonderful opportunity. 

But since I'm sharing my thoughts this week, I want you to know that I hurt for those few who are trying hard but barely hanging on.  Some end up going home.  I have witnessed this several times over the course of being here. I don't like to talk about it because it is private for those who do go home.  A few have come back and they all can come back if their mental and physical health will allow. 

One such missionary who went home is Grace Loertscher.  She and I have communicated some since she went home.  She just sent me her homecoming talk given on July 24th.  It is beautifully written and with her permission, I want to share it with you.

"Good morning everyone. I'll be honest, I thought that after three whole months of being home, I had escaped giving my homecoming talk. But alas, Bishop Hanson forgets nothing, so I am here and I have a few fun stories from New York to tell.

My experience in New York was interesting to say the least. It was simultaneously exactly what I expected and completely surprising. I could talk about the culture of Queens or what it's like to live in a ghetto filled with surprisingly polite people for hours on end, and trust me I have. Just ask my mother. I could tell you how a bustling business district was less than a mile away from a huge, creepy forest filled with killer raccoons that were definitely NOT playing around. I could tell you that I never knew Guyana was actually a country until nearly every person I talked to was from Guyana. I could also tell you about a man I did service with that was a Chinese professor turned Cruise director turned Bird watcher/field botanist turned professional gardener. Seriously Mike the Gardener was the coolest person I ever met.

That city blew my mind every single day. I would meet insane people on the train, I laughed at everyone and their dog going into an absolute frenzy when the Powerball hit 1 billion dollars, and I discovered that I don't like Manhattan very much because you can't tell which way is north. Yes, the buildings are that big.

I think my favorite thing in New York was the people who believed in God. No matter the religion, they were always so willing to share the depth of their belief and how God had saved their lives. It's amazing that in such a heartbreaking city, you find the strongest testimonies and witnesses of God's saving and healing power. I had many conversations on the subway and on doorsteps about our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. It really helped me to feel God's love for all those people, to see that he cared enough to help them, no matter who they were or what mistakes they had made.

Coming home from that surreal city was one of the hardest decisions of my life. I don't talk much about why I came home, and I have kind of beaten around the bush when people ask why I came home. The truth is that I had a very extreme case of depression and anxiety that I had suppressed for a while that finally caught up with me and completely wiped out my ability to function. The week before I came home, I emailed the mission president about how excited I was to learn more about service and proclaiming my love for the work I was engaged in. I have hardly told anyone about my last week on the mission when my mental state took a 180 and I felt I couldn't trust my brain anymore, but those days will forever be crystal clear to me.

I had many sacred experiences and suffered some of the worst mental and emotional anguish I have ever faced. I am so glad that I trusted in my Heavenly Father enough to honestly tell him how I felt and ask him if returning home was the right decision. I have never felt closer to my heavenly father than I did in those late hours when I lie awake paralyzed with grief and begged him for relief that he mercifully gave.

About a month before I came home, one of my companions, Sister Benson, had just gone home. Sister Benson had helped me so much to function as a missionary after my hard experience in training and I was struggling very hard with her leaving. The day she left, One of my favorite members, Sister La Rosa, showed us the video from Elder Holland about Early returned missionaries and that gave me hope in my new situation. The night I felt I needed to come home, I listened to that talk again and again. I downloaded it to my ipad and even listened to it as my plane took off and I saw my area for the last time as a missionary.

Elder Holland's words helped me to not feel like a failure for only serving five and a half months. They spoke comfort to my heart in my trying situation. Elder Holland's message is in response to a man who needed help not being ashamed or embarrassed that he had only served four months and had to come home for Mental Health issues. My favorite section of the response goes as follows:

"I say commendation to you, and the love of the Lord to you, and the blessings of the Church to you for trying to go, for wanting to go. And for the fact that you successfully served for [those] months. It obviously wasn't a full term, but it was missionary service. It was honest. You were loyally participating and testifying. And I want you to take credit for that. I want you to take the appropriate dignity that you deserve from that, and to know that the Lord loves you and the Church loves you for serving.

I don't know that in all eternity, every mission was outlined to be two years. Or for the young women, 18 months. That's kind of a modern invention. I'm sure missions in the scriptures were longer. Some of them were undoubtedly shorter. And a lot of missions currently might be shorter. Special missions that are arranged for individual people, including senior couples.

So I want you to be proud. Appropriately proud. I want you to take the dignity, and the strength and the faith that came from those months and cherish that forever. I don't want you to apologize for coming home. When someone asks you if you're served a mission, you say, yes. You do not need to follow that up with, but it was only four months. Just forget that part and say yes, you served a mission. And be proud of the time that you spent." Close quote

As I came home, I will openly admit that it was hard to take that advice. It is awkward to tell people you went on a mission and then say you graduated a year ago. It is hard to keep reading the scriptures and praying. It is hard to not feel ashamed because you feel there is somewhere else you were supposed to be.

The thing that helped me keep my testimony when I came home was to keep trying. The Lord understands my efforts and helps me understand his love for me. As I have consistently tried to read my scriptures and pray and serve others, I have found happiness and friendships and grown closer to the Lord. I have trusted Him and He has helped me and I am very grateful for that.

I want to make a quick transition here to acknowledge this week's importance. This week, we celebrate the many men, women, and children who made a faith-led and extremely difficult journey across the country and in some cases, across the world, so they could simply worship God. We have all heard many heroic and selfless stories from those early pioneers. I'm sure we all appreciate their sacrifice and testimonies.

Today, I would also like to acknowledge and appreciate a different kind of pioneer as well. We often think of "pioneers" as those early saints who made the long journey from New York to Utah. What's amazing to me is that nearly every single Latter Day Saint in New York City I met is most certainly a pioneer. Many of them joined the church with little to no support from family. Some of them lost jobs and relationships to follow Christ. It seems the harder their struggle to remain faithful, the more extraordinary and willing to share their faith through service they become.

 One woman, Sister Butscher, from the Richmond Hill branch is a great example of this. She found the church when she was 14 years old and recognized its truth. She got baptized alone and still remains the only member in her family. Her life was never easy past that. She never got married or had children even though it was her fondest dream to follow that path. Nonetheless, she is still a strong member and has a calling as the Stake Family History Coordinator. She is always willing to help the missionaries with teaching, and even rents out apartments to missionaries.

Another example of pioneers that I saw in New York was the Dunkley family. I absolutely adore this family. They filled my day with joy and love every time I saw them. They had moved to Brooklyn a little over a year ago with very little means to live on. They have six absolutely energetic children and still manage to get them all on the subway and to church each Sunday without fail. Brother and Sister Dunkley were always present at activities and always strived to help in any way they could. They had very little to give, but they gave their all with a smile and a hug.

While in New York, I read a talk by Thomas S Monson entitled "The world needs pioneers today" My experience there certainly supported that statement. Every city, every neighborhood, every family NEEDS these pioneers.

My favorite section of the talk is when President Monson is describing the challenges and importance of modern-day pioneers.

"Some find it difficult to withstand the mockings and unsavory remarks of foolish ones who ridicule chastity, honesty, and obedience to God's commands. But the world has ever belittled adherence to principle. When Noah was instructed to build an ark, the foolish populace looked at the cloudless sky and then scoffed and jeered-until the rain came.

Must we learn such costly lessons over and over again? Times change, but truth persists. When we fail to profit from the experiences of the past, we are doomed to repeat them with all their heartache, suffering, and anguish. Haven't we the wisdom to obey Him who knows the beginning from the end-our Lord, who designed the plan of salvation-rather than that serpent, who despised its beauty?

A dictionary defines a pioneer as "one who goes before to prepare or open up the way for others to follow." Can we somehow muster the courage and steadfastness of purpose that characterized the pioneers of a former generation? Can you and I, in actual fact, be pioneers?" close quote.

I know we can all be pioneers today. We can be an example of kindness to our family and friends. We can encourage everyone to find a relationship with God, no matter their religion. We can serve others and show them of goodness in the world and of God's love. All in all, if you love God and try your best to be like Jesus, You can follow the example of those dear pioneers from the 1800s and you can pave a new path for others to follow today.

I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

I am proud of Grace for the love she has for the Lord and for the courage she has to continue on and to face her future.  She is a great example to me.

I also read an article on a blog on lds.org that caused me to ponder and think: 

"The Gift of Being Broken

By Ariel Szuch July 28, 2016

Sometimes I just feel broken.

I look at my life and see all the ways I fall short-all those things I said I'd do that I didn't, all the expectations I had for myself that I never fulfilled. I see my weaknesses and frustratingly human frailty and the way it's affected people negatively in my life. I see my brokenheartedness over losing my mother to cancer and wonder sometimes if I'll ever feel whole again.

There are many ways to feel broken-physically, because of illness or injury; emotionally, because of unfulfilled desires or loss of a relationship; mentally, because of anxiety, depression, or other mental illness; or spiritually, because of crippling doubts or crises of faith. In the midst of all these, it can be easy to agonize over whether or not we can ever be acceptable to God or be of use in His kingdom because we're so human and broken. I know I feel that way sometimes.

However, God is good, and He has taught me a valuable lesson about being broken through my life's experiences:

Brokenness is a gift.

Why? Because our brokenness connects us to each other, and our brokenness brings us to Christ. It is by bringing our broken hearts to Him that we are made whole.

Sharing our brokenness brings meaning to our experiences, and the connection we make with others when we share our stories brings healing.

Up until recently, I hadn't put my experience of losing my mother into writing that I shared with others. Writing the post "Spring Will Come" was more difficult than I expected-going back to that dark time in my life triggered feelings of grief and required working through a lot of emotions, even though I had experienced healing since my mother's passing. It took courage to show a part of me that was so tender, so broken, for the world to see.

But miracles happened during that process. I read my story to family members, and we wept, our hearts brought together through sharing our grief. People I didn't even know reached out to me in person and online and shared how my story had helped them with the grief they were experiencing in their own lives. And I was grateful to God for the opportunity to see His hand touch others through my broken heart.

Being broken is a gift, because when we are broken, we recognize the need for a Savior to make us whole.

There's a reason that the sacrifice Jesus asks of us is a "broken heart and a contrite spirit." A broken heart is one that is open to Him, that lets in His grace. He felt our pains and sorrows first, and by going through a little of what He went through, we feel His power in our lives.

I've had several cry-in-public moments since my mom died. Once I was in a cafeteria with a friend when my emotions overflowed. It hurts so much sometimes, missing her. My friend sat quietly, his hand on my shoulder. I remember feeling love and peace and sorrow all at once, like the Savior's arms were around me as I cried.

It's been in moments like that, when I feel most vulnerable and the most broken, that I have felt the Savior's love the strongest. He does not condemn me for my weakness or demand that I move faster; He stays by my side. Every time I take the sacrament, it reminds me that it's OK that I'm broken, because Jesus was broken too. He is "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief," and with His stripes, I am healed (see Isaiah 53:3-5).

I am grateful for the gift of being broken. God has shown me that He loves me and uses me not in spite of the fact that I'm broken, but because of it. As Christ says in Ether 12:27, "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."

I've reflected a lot on the meaning of that scripture. I don't think it means that all our weaknesses will be taken away, but rather through Jesus's atoning sacrifice, beautiful relationships with God and with our fellow men can grow from them. When we are weak, we realize the need for our Savior, and He comes to us. No matter our weaknesses and shortcomings, with Him standing beside us, hand in hand with Him and with those we love, we are whole."

This week I have been reading and studying Jesus, the Christ by Talmage.  I have been in the chapters from the Last Supper to the Resurrection.  So much to think and ponder about.  I've felt the agony in Gethsemane. I winced with the scourging and as the thorns were placed on His head.  They beat Him and slapped Him.  They mocked and jeered.  He carried His cross to the hill.  I cried as they nailed Him to the cross to suffer and die. 

I love my Savior.  I am so grateful for the love and sacrifice he gave/gives to me.  He knows me. He knows my cares and the things I worry about.  He knows my pain.  He knows my joy and happiness. 

As I've read back through my blog, I don't want you to think that I am sad or depressed or down on myself in anyway.  I am extremely happy to be here serving the Lord.  I heartily recommend it to all.  What a glorious experience I am having.  My faith in the Lord is growing.  My testimony is stronger.  But I also realize that life can be difficult in so many ways.  Each of us has trials that bring us to our knees.  Learning to rely on and confide in the Lord is a lesson well-learned. I pray that each of you will know of the love the Savior has for you, for your purpose in being here, for His purpose in dying on the cross for us, and for His resurrection.

I love you my family and friends.

Sunday dinner has become a tradition with Sisters Zambito and Anderson and Elder and Sister Williams.
I love this ritual and these people. Sister Anderson goes home in 9 days. We'll miss her.

I went to Bay Shore to take some medicine to a missionary and while there, I happened
to meet Sisters Williams and Bugingo. I dragged them to a sushi dinner and then for ice cream.

Sisters Staker and Jenkins (the comedienne)
Sister Jenkins is going home so we had to have a farewell duke.
My knee wasn't so bad that I couldn't drive to Flushing.

I saw this picture and had to save it. It is full of cheer!!

Ayushman Bhava: "May you live a long life"

Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year.  It was my first without my family but it was never-the-less a day of celebration and gratitude for our Savior's life.  I cherish the kind thoughts and gifts of love and support that I received from my family and my "family" of friends.

The week was full of preparation and activities.

At our senior couples FHE/dinner on Monday, we decorated and filled bags with gifts for those elders and sisters who didn't receive gifts/ packages from home.  Sister Prince takes care of the mail.  All mail comes through the office so she monitored the packages and recorded who received boxes.  That way she could tell who didn't receive. The bags were filled with toothpaste, toothbrush, candy, fruit, cake/brownie mixes, misc. goodies and stocking caps and ties for the elders and necklaces and scarves for the sisters.

Preparing gift bags for missionaries.

Wouldn't you know it, we have a Sister PRINCE and a Sister DUKE right here in QUEENS!!

Our FHE treat thanks to my brother, John Terry, the cook.
He sent me a huge box of homemade fudges of different flavors. We were all blessed by his talents.

Tuesday, Sister and Elder Duke escorted the missionaries on their 6, 12, or 18 month temple trip (The missionaries have the gift of going to the temple in Manhattan on the anniversary of their 6, 12, 18 months in the mission.) so that left Elder and Sister Prince to man the office.  I went over in the afternoon and helped Sister Prince with all of the mail. For the past 3 weeks or more, between all the carriers, there have been dozens of boxes delivered each day to put into the zones for dispersal.  That was almost a full time job especially this last week as Christmas drew near.

Tuesday evening I went with the Spanish speaking sisters, in a down pour, to a lesson.  They are teaching an English speaking lady from India.  The sister will be coming to my ward so the missionaries wanted her to meet me so she would have someone at church that she knows.  It was truly an experience I will embrace. We were drenched by the time we got there but Ruma, the investigator, was warm and inviting.  She didn't seem to mind that we were dripping on her hardwood floors.

Sisters Maddox and Jenkins on our way to teach a lesson.

On our way home, the water was over the curb and onto the side walk.
Even with umbrellas we were drenched head to toes.
By the way you should try walking down a crowded sidewalk
when everyone has umbrellas open. Quite a trick!!

Ruma was pleased, as was I, that I had come to her home.  She is a young mother with two boys. One looked to be 12 or a bit older and the other maybe 8 or 9.  She wants to be baptized but her husband says no.  The lesson was about the word of wisdom.  It was easy for her as she does not smoke nor drink.  She drinks herbal tea but not green nor black tea. 

As I left, she reached down and touched my feet.  I was a bit taken aback but she told me it was a custom in her country. We agreed to see each other at church.

When I got home, I Googled the custom of touching a person's feet in India.  "Feet are considered unclean and insulting in India, so it can be surprising to see a Hindu bending down to touch someone's feet with their hand. Why are they doing that?

Touching feet is one of the forms of pranam (there are others, ranging from the namaste/namaskar gesture of palms together to bowing with forehead touching the floor). You might even hear someone say, "Pranam!" as a greeting, especially to their guru.

A gesture of respect, foot touching is reserved for your elders (like your parents or grandparents) or someone worthy of respect (such as a priest, guru, or deity).

There is a saying, "Every time you bow, you receive a blessing" which comes from the fact that the person whose feet are being touched raises the right hand in a gesture of blessing, often saying something like, "Ayushman Bhava," which means, "May you live a long life."

Foot touching is not done despite feet being considered unclean - it's done because feet are generally considered unclean. It means that the person has walked this earth longer than you and gained such wisdom that you can benefit even from the dust their feet have picked up along the way."

After learning about this gesture, I was deeply touched.

Christmas Eve day we had a mission conference.  All 11 zones came to the chapel next door to my apt where the mission office is located so I didn't have far to go.  The day started with hot chocolate, muffins, juice, and clementines.  We had funny parodies of Christmas music with each zone preparing a number.  Our zone performed a medley of songs with the words changed to fit our mission. We weren't "gettin' nuttin' for Christmas cause President and Sister Reynolds were mad."  We sang Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.  Bet you can't guess who Rudolph was with antlers and all!  (They forgot to bring the red nose but no one seemed to mind.) We also sang a couple of other songs. It was fun.  With 11 zones, it took most of the morning to hear all of the "mashed up" versions of Christmas songs. 

We arrived early to prepare hot chocolate. Elder and Sister Lilly beside me.

The senior couples helped with the luncheon. The main course was catered. Whew!! We served over 230 people: ham, scalloped potatoes, mixed vegetables, salad, rolls, and chocolate cake with either peppermint or vanilla ice cream.

A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight... No snow in sight!!

After lunch, we had a guest speaker who is a stake patriarch in the area and then talks by Sister and President Reynolds.  President Reynolds presented the mission goals for 2016.

Someone airdropped this to me during the conference

That evening I went with the six Spanish speaking missionaries in our zone to dinner at a member's home in Jackson Heights.  Luckily it wasn't raining but it was warm (60 degrees) and the house was hot! That was an interesting experience. We arrived at 6:00 but dinner wasn't served until almost 8:00. They had a dance contest.  It was a laugh-filled evening.  The matron of the home didn't speak English.  Her daughter and the daughter's husband prepared dinner and provided the entertainment. We had pork, warm potato salad, and Puerto Rican rice.  Chocolate cake and a glass of milk was dessert.  As we were leaving, the rest of the guests began to arrive. I understand that they party all night.

My dinner companions(left to right):
Elders Pothier & Corzo, Sisters Jenkins & Maddox, Elders Messenger & Pena  

Boys will be boys!

The dance contest winners. The dance was performed riding a stick horse to some lively music.
An example of a horse was shown in video. It was a Paso Fino.
We were to dance as the horse had "danced" slapping our hip as we would a horse. Very silly.

We were visited by the Grinch.

We were very late getting home because of the late dinner so I was up until 1:30ish preparing the French toast strata for the Christmas morning brunch.  I didn't mind though.  I loved the experience at the Hispanic home.

Christmas morning Sister and Elder Duke, Sister and Elder Prince and I prepared brunch for the five sets of missionaries in our close area. I so enjoy having friends in my home.  That afternoon and evening I was able to FaceTime my family members.  What a wonderful day!

Looking out my bedroom window Christmas morning.

Christmas brunch.

Saturday morning I helped clean at our chapel. Our ward was assigned again.  The chapel was a mess because of the many festivities that were held there during the week. People clean up after themselves- sort of - not!  In the afternoon I did my laundry and reports.  A productive day.

This week as I have studied my scriptures, I thought more about my idea of the Light of Christ that I mentioned last blog.  I have re-thought my statement.  I no longer feel that the darkness the people of this continent experienced when Christ died was a result of His light leaving the earth with Christ's death. I think it could have been symbolic but it was only on this continent, not the entire world, that there was darkness.

I also chatted about this idea with a person whom I respect deeply and who has a greater knowledge of the scriptures than do I.  Samuel the Lamanite, in Helaman 14, prophesied of the birth of the Savior and also of His death. At His birth there would be "one day and a night and a day" of continual light and a new star in the heavens. Then speaking of mankind's need of the Atonement and resurrection, Samuel prophesied of the signs of Jesus' death, three days of darkness accompanied by storms and earthquakes.

These signs were "gifts" to the people to let them know assuredly that the Savior had come, had died, and was resurrected and that prophecies had been fulfilled.

I am grateful for the Book of Mormon and for the teachings of the prophets that can be found in this book.  I am grateful for the Savior and His gifts to me.  I am grateful for the restoration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and for my membership in the church. I know without doubt that Jesus Christ is my Savior and Redeemer. He loves me and He loves you.

I am blessed to be here in this mission, to be with the missionaries and to have been able to share in the experiences of being with investigators and members. As Sister Maddox reminded me as we walked through the rain, I was getting a feel for what they experience frequently.  I've always appreciated what the missionaries do but this did truly give me a taste of real missionary life. To borrow from the phrase noted for the mail carriers that also applies to these great missionaries: "Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."

I love you my family and friends.

My favorite Santa!  Love this man!

Many delis/markets have flower shops outside. A month ago, they set up this portable green house.
The store owner leaves a window open for heat.

Christmas tree sales, New York style.

An Instrument In His Hands

I truly enjoy sitting in a room full of missionaries!!  They exude enthusiasm, love, and the  Spirit.  I’ve been blessed to sit amongst them four days this week.

There are eleven zones in our mission.  We had Mega-Zone Conferences on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.  Each day three zones came together to meet for training and to receive “Black boxes” in the cars they drive. (There will be one next Tuesday for the last two zones.)

Most missionaries walk but there are about 40 cars in our mission.  The black boxes are devices that monitor the driving habits of the drivers.  It tells them in a robotic voice if they are speeding or being reckless and reports this along with the time of day to a computer system which sends reports to the mission vehicle coordinator and President Reynolds. 

The missionaries are not really excited about this.  The speed limits in New York are very low and EVERYONE drives fast.  The missionaries are complaining because everyone, including white haired grandmas, (They aren’t referring to me of course.) are passing them and they feel that they are creating a driving hazard driving so slowly.  They may end up adjusting the boxes for this hazard but I’ll bet they won’t adjust it to the speed that the normal traffic goes.

I was asked by President Reynolds to take 20 minutes and talk about the holiday and winter season when people easily get depressed and blue and how to keep their spirits up.  I talked about the importance of proper nutrition, exercise, rest, and cleanliness.  I gave them a handout that included more detail about each of these topics. I focused most of my talk on relying on the grace of the Lord and keeping a positive attitude.  I used parts of a talk given in April Conference 2014 given by Elder Bednar. It had a great impact on me because it was just six months after Kay died and it gave me hope and courage to do the things in this life that I needed and wanted to do.  If you would like to, please take to the opportunity to read "Bear Up Their Burdens With Ease".

I also talked about having an attitude of gratitude.  In my Sacrament Meeting last week, the 29^th of November, my bishop gave a talk about gratitude.  He challenged each of us to keep a gratitude journal.  At the end of each day, we are to write down three things for which we are grateful.  At the end of the month we are to read back over the blessings we enjoy.  He also challenged us to write and mail a letter, on paper-not an email, to a person who has had a positive impact on our lives. Writing this letter would help us and the recipient.  Doing these things helps us to focus on the positive things in our lives. 

I made this same challenge to our missionaries.  Since then I have had several missionaries tell me that they already do that and that it does help them to stay positive.

I then talked a little about Christmas and homesickness and loneliness.  I read a story entitled “My Last Christmas in the Mission". It is a few stories into the article.

The last thing I shared is one of my favorite quotes of the season which I know some of you have heard me read or use in Christmas programs.   It is a quote.  From the words of President Spencer W. Kimball: “Though we make an effort to follow the pattern of gift giving at Christmas time, sometimes our program becomes an exchange—a gift given for a gift expected.

Of the Savior's service, and His example to us, President Kimball goes on to say: "Never did the Savior give in expectation. I know of no case in His life in which there was an exchange. He was always the giver, seldom the recipient. Never did He give shoes, a scarf, or a vehicle; never did He give perfume, a shirt, or a fur wrap. His gifts were of such a nature that the recipient could hardly exchange or return the value.

His gifts were rare ones: eyes to the blind, ears to the deaf, and legs to the lame; cleanliness to the unclean, wholeness to the infirm, and breath to the lifeless. His gifts were opportunity to the downtrodden, freedom to the oppressed, light in the darkness, forgiveness to the repentant, hope to the despairing.

His friends gave Him shelter, food, and love. He gave them of Himself, His love, His service, His life. The wise men brought Him gold and frankincense. He gave them and all their fellow mortals resurrection, salvation, and eternal life. We should strive to give as He gave. To give of oneself is a holy gift."

The zone conferences were in different areas of the mission so I drove to Woodside, Lynbrook, and Patchogue.  It was raining cats and dogs again the day I went to Patchogue but one of these days before my mission ends, I’m going to be there on a dry, sunny days.  Woodside is close to where I live in Elmhurst/Rego Park.  It is a most diverse neighborhood. Lynbrook is (Brook- lyn with syllables reversed) 85% Irish.  The area is marshy and wooded.  At least the drive I took to get there looked that way.  It is a beautiful neighborhood with mostly stand-alone homes.  There are some high rise apt buildings but I liked the area. 

Friday I attended a leadership training meeting for zone leaders, district leaders, sister training leaders, etc.  I didn’t participate but just enjoyed the missionaries.  I am such a tease that I enjoy making them laugh.  I also like to be available to talk to them and to get to know them and build trust with them.

After the meeting I got a haircut.  Sister Duke and Sister Prince go to a shop just around the corner and they suggested I go these. I liked the beautician.  She is from Bulgaria.  She has two children and has been here for eleven years.  She speaks really good English with a delightful accent.

Saturday, I went to the Temple.  I went solo and I was a little afraid of getting lost but I made it both ways with no problem.  It was a great day.  They don’t have as many sessions as other temples because there is only room for one session at a time.  I got there in time for the 12:30 session which was in Spanish so I had to wear the headphones which is not a problem.  The temple is beautiful.  All ordinances except baptism are on the fifth floor.

Manhattan Temple

In front of the Temple.

I did have an interesting thing happen on the way from my apt to the subway. There is a park with benches along the sidewalk.  Sitting on one of the benches was a man probably in his late forties, early fifties.  He had his shoes off and was sunning his stockinged feet.  I always try to smile and say hello to people as I pass.  When I said hello to him, he beckoned me to come talk to him. He apologized for showing his feet but said they hurt so he liked to get them cold so they would hurt less.  His name was Louis and he was from Cuba.  His English was pretty good but he still had a heavy accent.  We talked for a few minutes and he asked me about my name badge.  I soon found myself sitting on the bench next to him.

I told him about the church and what I was doing.  He said that he had talked to other young missionaries before.  I asked him if I could have missionaries come and teach him about our church in his language.  He was reluctant and wouldn’t commit to that so I invited him to come to the Spanish speaking ward. I told him where the church is and he said he went there once with the missionaries. 

He wanted to talk about how we are all Gods children and he wanted to call me his sister.  We talked a few more minutes about our families.  We talked about eternal families and his mother and father whom he left in Cuba and has not seen for a long time.  I could feel the Spirit and it brought tears to my eyes.  He asked me if I felt the Spirit when he saw my tears.  He said he cries when he feels the Spirit too.  He told me that he felt God had directed me to come by at that time and to talk to him.  

I again tried to get him to let me send or bring the missionaries to him to teach him in Spanish.  He was still reluctant to do that but said that he sits on that bench almost every day between 9:00 and 11:00 in the morning and he would look for me to come talk to him again.  It was a wonderful experience.  I will try to talk to him again and to bring the sister missionaries who live upstairs along with me.  They speak Spanish.

I know that the Lord directs his work.  Along with caring for the missionaries,  I pray that I can be an instrument in His hands to help people find the Savior and to help them learn how to return to His presence again.

I am so blessed to have my eternal family.  I love my husband and children and grandchildren more than words can express.  I am so blessed to be able to be here on this mission and to be able to serve in any capacity that I can.

I love you my family and friends.

I love poinsettias. I'm beginning to feel the Christmas spirit.

My tree.

Christmas music is my fave!

Progresso is not too fattening and is quick and easy but....

Soup gets boring so on Friday night, I cooked myself a dinner.
It had been so long I almost forgot how delicious a baked potato can be!

I liked the flowers in these planters on a neighbor's door step.

Geraniums in December. The little purple flowered plant on the ground is cabbage.
I see many ornamental cabbages here. They are pretty.

This is a train underpass through which I walk on my morning walks.
I've learned that you had better not be in that tunnel when two
siren- blaring fire trucks rumble through. I couldn't hear for an hour afterward.
Well, at least for five minutes!!

I can't resist the city pics. The morning was bright and beautiful.

The bridge we cross on our morning walk over the train tracks.

The stairs to the bridge gets my heart rate up. Looking down my street
from the stairs to the bridge.

The Church has an  "A Savior is Born" initiative going on. In Times Square there are billboards and
videoboards promoting Christmas messages through out this month. 400 taxis also promote the church.
I found this one parked on the street in front of my apt. I didn't have time to go to Times Square
on Saturday but I plan to get there before Christmas.

This deli looked inviting but I will save it for another day.

Sidewalk fair near Central Park.

Flea market sidewalk market at Central Park.

Monument or statue at entrance to Central Park.

Looking down Columbus Avenue.

Lights on trees in front of Trump Tower.

Lights on trees in front of Trump Tower.

Looking up at Trump Tower.