tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27913723881411590432024-03-19T03:33:01.433-07:00The Badge"No unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, armies may assemble, calumny may defame, but the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done."
-Joseph Smith Jr.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-2877189641314989262015-06-11T11:55:00.000-07:002015-06-11T11:55:16.729-07:00Mis Compañeras<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
The parable of the talents is pretty straight forward (<a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/matt/25" target="_blank">Matthew. 25:14-30</a>). If you practice and use the talents you have been given, you will develop them and find more along the way. While on the other hand, if you sit around like a lump on a log, you won't get any better... obvio. In fact, you can loose that very talent you were first given. </div>
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Considering myself a Jack...(or Jane?) of all trades, dabbling a little in everything, keeping the little talent I've got while pursuing others is quite important to me. So while I was out learning Spanish, preaching the good word, and acquiring Mexican tastebuds, I wanted to make sure my creative fingertips could still do their thing after 18 months time. Therefore, I made a goal to keep a sketchbook throughout my mission... something quite difficult to do when every moment of your day is planned out. But I managed to knock out a few sketches every now and then, especially of my companions. I place them before you now for your viewing pleasure.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Baja California, Mexico30.8406338 -115.2837584999999823.8371068 -125.61090699999997 37.8441608 -104.95660999999998tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-40064409791066224422015-06-05T12:05:00.001-07:002015-06-05T12:05:51.369-07:00René Lopez Balderrama<div style="color: #222222; font-size: 13px;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>I have officially returned home from my mission. My 18 months came and went (something that I hope you've gathered from my last post from the field) and now I'm back to limitless hours of internet and chile-less freezer dinners. <br />As I was reviewing my blog and all of the posts in it, I noticed that one of them was missing! A very special post that I wrote January 26th of this year (2015) about the baptism of my dear friend René. He was my first baptism in the Azteca ward and I can only suppose that the choppy internet service caused that this post never arrived in my mothers email-box. So after digging through my old mission emails, I discovered the original post of his baptism and have posted it here for your reading enjoyment.</b></span><br />
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Meet Rene. He's a dreamer.</div>
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When I arrived at Azteca he was one of the two sure investigators that we had to work with. My first lesson with him I showed up with the intent to move up his baptizmal date from Febrero to 24 de Enero, and he accepted. Why? Because he had a testimony in the Book of Mormon.</div>
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My companion told me that just a few weeks before he wasn't asi. Happy to listen to their messages, but not ready to make that kind of commitment. Hearing this, my companion challenged him to ask God through prayer. And so he did. That was when he had his first dream. In his dream, he was walking in a large field and as he walked, he began to see a tree in the distance. Aproaching the tree, he found that it had fruit. A simple dream, no? The next day, reading in the Book of Mormon, he came across Leih's vision of the Tree of Life. Imeadiatly he made the connection and knew that the book had to be true. He accepted the idea of baptizm quite joyfully after that.</div>
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His only stumbling block was coffe. He was doing his best to quit drinking bit by bit, going down from drinking cup after cup all day long to just 4 a day. It was quite an achievement, but we knew he could do better. We reminded him the importance of keeping the Word of Wisdom, the blessings he would recieve, and invited him to pray for strength to drop this addiction.</div>
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Two days latter, stiting in his book-filled living-room, we asked him como le fue con el cafe. His response? "Nada. Nada nada nada nada nada."</div>
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Seeing the shocked looks on our faces he began to share his story. After our latest lesson he whent to bed like any other night. But this night he dreamed. He dreamed that he felt something odd in his mouth. So feeling around a bit, discovered a small string that whent down the back of his throat. He began to pull on it. Pulling, pulling, pulling, the string never seemed to end untill he had formed a pile of string mountain high. Finally, seeming to reach the end, he pulled out of his mouth the last of the string, but to his great astonishment found at attached to the end of the string, as small devil. He woke up with a sweat, breathing heavely, not sure what to do other than to pray.</div>
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Since then he hasn't had the slightest desire to drink coffe. Sure, his body is going through side effects, trying to clean the substance from his system, but he is determined to stay strong. And he has been.</div>
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The baptizm of Rene was last Saturday. Unfortunatly, at the same time there was some construction work going on in the streets. I've learned that when there is construction work in Ensenada, that means that in houses everywhere there is no water, or the water is dirty. Por lo menos, we had enough water to fill the baptismal font.... downside: the water was dirtier than the River Jordan. The eyes of everyone who saw it bugged out and their eyebrows whent sky high, but that didn't fase Rene. As calm and happy as one could be, he stood in mud colored water, ready to make his first covenat with God.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.6419495 -116.92855650000001 32.0736065 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-20228668461414918562015-05-05T09:08:00.002-07:002015-05-05T09:08:26.833-07:00A Brown Heart<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Dear Heavenly Father,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Well, my time is up. 18
months have come and gone. 18 months in which I promised to give you my
all, represent your Son, and wear His name proudly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can´t help but laugh when I
think about what I used to say. That school was more important.
Remember how mad I would get when others hinted at the idea of a mission?
Not required, not expected, not for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But you knew my heart.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I think Nauvoo is when you
first lit the flame. And as time passed by, with a comment here, and a
special moment there, you kindled the fire within me. Little by little
until you dumped on the whole gallon of propane with that famous announcement
of October 2012. But you never rushed me. You let me go at my
pace. To study, pray, investigate, and analyze every solution, every
possibility. And when I was ready. When I was willing. When I
was humble after the long process. You let me know what you had planned
for me all along. Thank you for that Easter morning. Thank you for
those Jerusalem bird songs. I have cherished that moment for these past
18 months.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And so the girl who always said
no, said yes. And look at what´s happened since.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Use whatever metaphor you´d
like. Refiners fire or a pruning gardener, I´m not the same as I
was. What seemed like so much time turned out to be so little when filled
with the experiences that you´ve given me. And now I find myself begging
for more. Not wanting to go home. Denying the idea that there could be
anything better than working in your vineyard.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I´ve met people and I´ve loved
them. They've changed me and I hope I could help them in return.
I've learned a language, a culture, new music, food, and candy. My heart
arrived here Caucasian, but It´s going home brown. And after all that has
been said and done, the lessons, the contacts, prayers, and testimonies; I just
have one question left for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Did I do okay?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Did I do what you had planned
for me to do? Did I use your sacred time as you wanted? I messed up
a lot, I know. And I´m sorry for that. But I did what I
could. I put all I had on the altar. Was it enough? <o:p></o:p></div>
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I know you wont be able to tell
me until I see you again, but I hope I can hear you say, "Yes"... or
even better, "Sí." But until that day comes I want you to know
that I´ll keep working. You´ve made me a tool in your hands and I want to
stay that way forever. I´ll go where you want me to go, do what you want
me to do, BE what you want me to BE. I´m not perfect, I don´t even feel
good; but I´m trying and I´m asking you to help me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Don´t let me forget them. Don´t let me forget this
time. Let it burn forever in my little brown heart. And if it´s not
too selfish of me, don´t let them forget me either.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Your servant and daughter, forever and always,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hermana Eden Lance<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Un relevo como misionero de tiempo completo es un
llamamiento como misionero de toda la vida."<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com3Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-13956346054695970692015-05-01T08:14:00.002-07:002015-05-01T08:14:15.855-07:00Hope<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
I don´t want to sound like a
cliche missionary, but here it comes. I love this work. I love
teaching this gospel to those who are hungry for it. Seeing the change in
their eyes as they hear what they´ve been waiting for for so long.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We have a few investigators like that right now. Jorge
mentioned to us that he has a past that he would like to forget. Guilt that
haunts him day in and day out. He´s looking for forgiveness. A new
start. And that´s what we have to offer him. When we teach him
about the power of prayer, repentance, baptism, and the love that his Heavenly
Father has for him, the Spirit is so strong. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This is why I´m here. To
spread hope to all I can. Hope for new beginnings. Hope for
forgiveness. Hope for truth. Hope for peace. Hope for
something better. And even though it sounds cheesy, that hope is found in
Christ. It´s incredible how the Gospel works. How simple it is, but
what joy it can bring! Everyone is looking for it. You can see it
in their soul, even if they don't realize it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I´m not here to teach 45 lessons, find 12-15 new
investigators, and contact 200 people in a week. They are great goals,
but what feels even better than meeting those goals is meeting these people and
seeing the change that they go through. That´s is something you CAN'T put
on paper. Trust me, I´ve tried.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-55052156901347503652015-04-21T08:37:00.004-07:002015-04-21T08:37:18.184-07:00Star Cab<div class="MsoNormal">
This life is New York City, New York. The Big Apple.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are lots of people, all going to different places,
doing different things, different choices, clothes, hair, habits, jobs, words,
beliefs, etc... Some only focused on work, others on the disco
clubs. Some have a lot, others have a little.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The church is like a Taxi.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are lots of different taxis, and different
drivers. Some pass by the Statue of Liberty, and others by Yankee Stadium. Depending on where you want to go, you choose your cab. Out of
all the different taxis to choose from, only a certain company will take you
home. Pass by your house and drop you off with a friendly wave. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What so many people don´t understand is that the gospel
works the same way. There are lots of good churches. All talk about
God, how He loves us, that we should have faith, serve others, be good
people. But not every taxi has the same route. Even though a church
is good, doesn´t mean it will drive you to the golden gates.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We need the right taxi. We need the power of God, His
authority, the priesthood. Not every chauffeur has that. And after spending
a good chunk of time trying to convince some stubborn headed Mexicans this very
fact, I´m even more sure that it´s true. <o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 7.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
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<!--[endif]--></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-33150092249056134812015-04-16T07:58:00.002-07:002015-04-16T07:58:56.970-07:00Something I´m gonna miss<div class="MsoNormal">
It is quite incredible how the Lord works sometimes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My whole mission I´ve said to myself: I don´t want to be a
good missionary, not even a great one. I want to be an instrument in the
Lord´s hands. I want to be His tool. Be where He needs me to be in
the moment He needs me to be there. And most often missionaries want to
see it happen in the very moment. Feel the impression and know exactly
where the Lord wants them to be or do. But to be honest, I´ve never seen
it happen that way. I´ve never felt it that way before. But that
doesn´t mean that it doesn´t happen.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Saturday we had a day full of lesson appointments.
Literally every hour was planned with an investigator. Leaving the
apartment in the morning I felt so good and sure that we were going to have
incredible lessons and help everyone go to church the next day. ... Big
shocker that that did not happen. ALL of our plans fell through, as well
as plan B, C, D.... So we started contacting, knocking doors, and
looking for references. TWO HOURS LATER we found ourselves without results
and itching to teach somebody. Desperate, we walked over to where a
sister lived so my companion could get to know her and we could share a
message.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn´t until we were siting there with the sister when I
realized why we had walked so much with what seemed to us for no purpose
whatsoever. I<o:p></o:p></div>
f we had gotten there just moments sooner, she wouldn´t have
been there and we wouldnt have been able to listen and help her. She
needed us in THAT moment. And so the Lord made sure we were there in THAT
moment. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no other feeling like it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
....but are you ready for this?</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-70586352671158956052015-04-14T11:40:00.002-07:002015-04-14T11:40:55.442-07:00The last testimony of them all... He lives!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Last Monday was the beginning of
my last transfer. I received Hna. Jimenez (yeah, my same companion from
Aguacaliente) as my new/old/last companion here in Ensenada. The only
difference is that I´m now training her to be a Sister Training Leader before I
go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
In the movie "Monty
Python and the Search of the Holy Grail" there is a quite... pointless
scene that always makes me laugh. Walking around with a wheelbarrow a man
yells out, "bring out your dead!" Another walks out, with whom
we can only assume is his grandfather on his shoulders. His mind intent
on throwing him into the wheelbarrow. "But I´m not dead
yet!" The old man cried. "Actually, I feel like going for
a walk!"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
The members of my Ward and my
fellow missionaries are trying to toss me into the wheelbarrow. The moment
that Hna. Jimenez stepped off the bus and saw me she said, "Hna. Lance, ya
se va!" ...Gracias hna, good to see you too... Everyone feels
the need to remind me that I´m leaving soon, or warn me from getting
trunky. Even when complementing me. The other day Hna. Jimenez told
me, "Sentí tanto el espiritu cuando testificó Hna. ¿Por que tiene
que ir?!" Uhh, thanks sister, but I´m not dead yet!<br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
This week we´ve been promoting
the new church video, <u>Because He lives</u>. So we started by talking to our
neighbors and inviting them to watch the video. One of them, an elderly
man, thanked us for the invitation, but warned us that he didn´t believe in
God, Christ, or Religion. With faith, we told him that we would like to
visit him anyways and made an appointment for the next day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Arriving and entering into his
little home I noticed that his walls were covered with paintings and immediately
felt a connection with my artistic brother. Sitting down, I said a prayer
in my heart, hoping that as we taught about who our Heavenly Father is, he would
be able to feel the spirit testify that He is real... Sadly, we barely
finished the opening prayer when he began with his negative comments. Now
I don´t want to go into details. That would take too much time and be
rather depressing. Just know that this child of God has a lot of pent up
anger against his Heavenly Father. "He abandoned me, so I abandoned
Him." If there is so much injustice in the world, how can He be a
just God? If there is a God, He is an irresponsible God. He (our
neighbor) gave us every example of injustice from the history of the world
that you can think of, the majority attacking the U.S.A. (uh, hello... American
gal sitting right here... thanks). God never helped him. Never
helped anyone. Religion destroyed his family. Religion is business;
using good, innocent people like ourselves and manipulation us with our faith.
The cherry on top being that the Mormon church is one of the two "mas
ricas" churches in the world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Contention is of the devil, and
there was a lot of it. Don't get me wrong. He wasn´t rude in anyway
towards us. Just made his feelings plain and clear. But I could
also tell, that after nearly an hour of trying to explain our message, he
wasn´t going to let us get a word in. All I could do was testify.
That´s what I came out here for isn´t it? Open my mouth and share what I
know. As did my companion, and the members who were joining us in the
lesson. We didn´t say anything special, but the Spirit filled the room. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
The next day, while watching
G.C. and looking at the general authorities, I couldn´t help but think,
"and if it really is all a sham?" Just for a sliver of a second
I remembered all that our neighbor had to say. Then, during the 2 hour
break, a few Mormon messages came on. I believe it was called "the
Hope of Gods light." And the spirit hit me again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It HAS to be true. I know it is. It´s the only thing
that makes sense. I love it, and I´ll testify it until the end.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
(and if you guys didn´t catch it, my old mission prez,
Armando Carreon, just got called as a new member of the 70!!!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com3Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-53433451107770556442015-03-31T10:55:00.002-07:002015-03-31T10:55:14.058-07:00Awko-Taco<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Fasting can cause a lot of
really awkward situations. We fast every week.... which makes awkward
moments on a weekly bases.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Last week, in such a moment,
Hna Aviles and I arrived at the house of a new investigator (remember the
breaking-into-the-car contact? Yeah, we finally got an appointment with
her). Like every other day in Mexico, it was pretty hot and naturally our
investigator offered us a glass of water (which is Spanish for soda) to cool
off. We said no gracias, that we were just fine, but while she went off
to take a quick shower, she sent in her cousin with two large glasses of Manzanita
Sol.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Awkward. If you consider
it bad manners in the US to not eat/drink what you're offered, it is REALLY bad
manners here below the boarder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
What could we do? The
cousin went back into the kitchen and left us alone in the living room with a
puzzle to solve. We began searching for anything to dump the soda
into. A hose plant being the ideal choice, but alas, there were none to
be found. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a open
window. Quickly, but silently I dashed to the window, and with a prayer
in my heart, peeked outside for salvation. God heard my prayer and a
potted plant was found sitting directly below the opened window. Slinking
over to my companion I shared my discovery and we plotted our next move.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
It was a flawless plan. I
placed myself in the sofa to keep watch on the activity in the kitchen while
Hna. Aviles moved over to the chair in front of the open window. As I
played guard duty, Hna. Aviles, with Manzanita in hand, slyly slipped her arm
through the window behind her to dump the soda in the plant. In and out
again for my glass and within seconds the deed was done and we could breath
freely again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The investigator didn´t suspect a thing. But I would
love to have seen the faces of the people outside who past by to find my
companion´s arm hanging out the window with glass in hand. <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-6550940679751918652015-03-30T10:41:00.001-07:002015-04-16T08:03:28.272-07:00Elliott Ricardo Chinas Pena<div class="MsoNormal">
Elliott and his family were a reference from another ward.
My second week here in Ensenada we went to visit them and the very next day
they showed up at church. Elliott (9 years old) lives with his mom and
one of his sisters. His other sister lives in another part of Mexico and
his dad is Marine, which means that he is off at sea for three months at a time
and comes home for about a week. When we stated visiting Elliott and his
family, that was the reason why his mom, Leticia, was always depressed.
All day long she was in the house, her kids at school, husband at work, and
with nothing to do. But as she began to learn about the gospel, you could
see a light begin to grow in her eyes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since then they have become a solid family in the
ward. Participating in every activity and eating up all that the gospel
has to give them. Leticia has even shared the gospel with several of her
friends. Now just has to wait until her "husband" gets home so
they can get married and she can be baptized.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDLQyEsBBWEcSo5DyfpQm3mWolRG_COqzOyIamInCKpltaF_nA1nPz60k8RwKCh0X2xl-83gVRtkqP9dezI35c4rp81r5oCq-ksUJ2QIvLZIAb9d43a4a29v7Q4dTcLc9jDovKqQa9851/s1600/DSCF6530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDLQyEsBBWEcSo5DyfpQm3mWolRG_COqzOyIamInCKpltaF_nA1nPz60k8RwKCh0X2xl-83gVRtkqP9dezI35c4rp81r5oCq-ksUJ2QIvLZIAb9d43a4a29v7Q4dTcLc9jDovKqQa9851/s1600/DSCF6530.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elliott</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
But meanwhile, <b>Elliott was baptized!</b> Super excited, he told me after his baptism, "my sins were up to here! (pointing to his forehead) and now I don't have any!!!" He's going to serve a mission some day.... :)</div>
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<br /></div>
In other news, I have the opportunity each week to go on
exchanges with the other sisters working her in Ensenada. Last Friday I
spent the day in the only Hermana area with bikes in Ensenada. First time
in all of my mission to ride a bike... in a skirt. Stick on a pair of
leggings underneath and a Hanna Montana helmet on top and your set to go.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
I felt like I was in a video game. 10 points to hop
the speed bump. 15 if you can wave hi to the kids hanging out of the
pickup truck passing by. 30 to weave around the dead dog. 50 if you can
squeeze between the buses. What a rush. Would it be too cheesy if I
said I felt so ALIVE!? Or that's how it felt for the first 10
minutes. Then I began to realize that I wasn't in such great physical
condition as I thought... With my head held high I can say that I never
once crashed, but we might have needed to take a couple breathing breaks.
At the end of the day I rode the bike standing. I'm fairly certain that
the torn up bike seat made a few bruises where the sun don't shine. The
next day I woke up with wobbly legs. To those of mis amigos who served
missiones on bikes, my respects.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 7.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-37851654512853890712015-03-30T10:39:00.002-07:002015-03-30T10:39:09.380-07:00If you can't beat 'em, join ém<div class="MsoNormal">
I haven't had too many dog stories during my mission.
One happened around my three month mark (of which I've already written about),
and the other about two months ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Azteca is a big area, therefore we earnestly search for any
shortcut we can find that's manageable in a skirt. Thus this story came
to be. We were running late for a lesson and Hna. Aviles and I were new
in Azteca and still trying to find our way around. We came across a
large, empty field, innocently lying there, waiting to be walked upon.
There might have been a sign saying "Private property. Prohibited to
walk upon." Perhaps it was there... I don't remember too
well...<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We made it half way through until giant dogs of every
species came chasing after us. I'm pretty sure that one of them was
Fluffy from the Sorcerers Stone. Barking, growling, saliva flying
everywhere they came right up on our heels. And we just kept on
walking. My heart beating right out of my chest, but my feet as calm as a
Sunday afternoon stroll. One of them bit the skirt of my companion. And I
responded by opening my umbrella in it's face. HA! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that's how we continued. Slowly walking, trying to
not provoke them more, until we came to the end of the field,... and maybe
passing by another "Prohibited" sign.... maybe. Like I said, my
memory doesn't serve me too well. But the dogs knew there limit and didn't
follow us beyond that point. ...And we haven't made that shortcut since.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As for more recent news: in a desperate search for new
investigators, our zone got together last Friday and put up a couple of stands
in the famous Globos of Ensenada (it's like a giant garage sell. you can
go there and find anything you can imagine really cheap). We looked like
a bunch of T.J.'s (testigos de jehova). Talking to anybody we could about
their families, genealogy, the restoration, the gift of tongues. Strange
people, strange experiences. A couple of English tourists came up and
asked to take a picture of me thinking I was part of the tour I supposed.
They also asked if I was Mexican (goal!)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Fun fact: Nobody knows why, but there is a Japanese statue in our area. Random, but great for picture taking.<br />
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<o:p></o:p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-54652838797224435852015-03-10T07:20:00.001-07:002015-03-10T07:20:29.758-07:00Another Drop in the Ocean<div class="MsoNormal">
We´ve been struggling a little here in Azteca these past
weeks. We have some great investigators that will be getting baptized in
these next few weeks, but can´t seem to find new people to teach. Lots of
canceled appointments, 14 or more contacts a day, but no one interested in the
good news. We´ve even resorted to knocking doors... but few stories of
success.<o:p></o:p></div>
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You know, the typical.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Having just been told from a new investigator that they
didn´t want us to visit them anymore, we were walking through a neighborhood
looking for somebody new to teach. We came across a lady struggling to
break into her car, having accidentally locked her keys inside. Like
typical missionaries we offered our help, and like typical strangers seeing two
gals in skirts, she said thanks but that she could handle it (who´s going to
make girls in skirts work?... story of my mission). She and her neighbor
(who was not wearing a skirt) continued working on her car while we awkwardly
stood there watching. Refusing to leave until we contacted her, but not
knowing how to draw her attention away from her car. Finally, tired of
waiting I said, ¨Pues, nosotros sabemos que Dios pude hacer cualquier
cosa. Aun abrir su carro si quiere. Cree que podríamos hacer una
oración y pedir por su ayuda?¨ She said okay to the prayer and so
standing there, in the middle of the street, while her neighbor continued shoving
a metal stick into her car door, I said a prayer. And as I finished the
prayer... the car door didn´t open. Talk about an awko-taco. So I
continued to contact the lady, hoping that she would realize that the prayer
supposedly failed. But as I contacted the neighbor continued to work on
the car door, and after a minute or two, POP! The door opened.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The lady didn´t accept a return appointment. Actually,
I´m not even sure she made the connection of the prayer and opened door.
But for me, it was a tiny miracle that strengthened my companion´s and mine
testimonies. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYfVAJG9HCAo6EeOU9-o83gPKLooARsfKp8Klys6mx6HgqP8Buwp1WdReFZU81DSicNin1eOxy4GLHGb1NXqqwNdkl7Nck7VBAr_q1RzQ5CrzZboKaqWqlfEEI0TJ73b-iM2lWeEyA3fS/s1600/DSCF6427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYfVAJG9HCAo6EeOU9-o83gPKLooARsfKp8Klys6mx6HgqP8Buwp1WdReFZU81DSicNin1eOxy4GLHGb1NXqqwNdkl7Nck7VBAr_q1RzQ5CrzZboKaqWqlfEEI0TJ73b-iM2lWeEyA3fS/s1600/DSCF6427.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">¨you´ll only find
this in mexico¨</span></td></tr>
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<!--[endif]--></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-45156491347394609002015-03-05T10:23:00.004-08:002015-03-05T10:23:32.138-08:00I've been doing this for too long...<div class="MsoNormal">
Something really strange has happened to me. I've hit
a road block. I quite literally can't think of anything interesting or
enlightening to write this week.... and as a self proclaimed creative writer I
feel quite ashamed about that. I guess doing the same thing day in and
day out has made everything seem... normal. And very difficult to remember
something abnormal to share. I wake up, study, contact, teach, walk,
plan, and sleep each day. Sure every day is unique... but as Syndrom from
The Incredibles said, "And when everyone's special... no one will
be." Regardless, I promise that next week I'll have something
incredibly amazing for you all to read... but while you're waiting on that
just know that the church is true, the work is good, chili adds more flavor,
and here's a montage of pictures from the last 6 months (mas o menos) of my
mission.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-3804694705429881492015-02-27T05:44:00.001-08:002015-05-18T11:43:14.645-07:00Some are Sowers<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Status update.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last week we had transfers aaaaannnnnndddddddd......
nothing happened. Hna. Aviles and I will be staying together for the next
6 weeks here in Azteca. Which I´m happy about. We make a pretty
good team and have lots of plans for this next transfer. We´re finding
lots of new people to teach and now only need to sift through them all to see
who really is going to progress. Two new Hnas arrived last Monday as well
to open area in Azteca 2. We officially split the area and they started
contacting to find new people to teach... They had about 3 days to work
before one of them became sick with the chicken pox and now they have to stay
locked up in their apartment for who knows how long. A missionary's
nightmare. So we´re currently trying to figure out how we might be able
to go on divisions so their area doesn´t sit there and collect dust. De
seguro I can´t get to close to the Hna. because I´ve never had Chicken Pox and
even though I´ve got the shots and everything, it´s still possible to catch
it. It´s an awkward situation all together.<br />
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But moving on from that.
It´s time to get spiritual.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As many of my dedicated
followers may remember, I hit a moment un poquito dificil in my second area and
about in the middle of my mission. I was training, I was contacting, I
was teaching, but nothing seemed to be going right. No one was progressing
towards the waters of baptism and honestly, I felt a little bit like nothing
that I was doing worked. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
One day, as we climbed one of
the many hills in our area, we passed by a man cleaning his front yard.
La verdad, I was going to keep walking, but something told me to talk to him,
so I did. It was awkward, just like every good contact, but we discovered
that he lived several years in Utah before getting deported to Mexico.
There he came in contact with the church. Never listened to the missionaries,
but heard a lot about our beliefs. Obviously, we invited him to church
the next day and to hear our lessons. And while making fun of my
Spanish, he told us that although he wouldn´t be able to receive us in his
house, nos veremos alli in la capilla (meet in the church). Contact completed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He never showed up at church.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And for the rest of the time
that I served in Las Fuentes, I never saw him again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Flash-forward to 2 months
ago. Hna. Pacheco and I were siting on a bus, leaving Tijuana and heading
to our new areas in Ensenada. Excited to see each other again, we began
to relate everything that happened since the end of her training. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She told me that one Sunday, as she and her companion walked
into the church, they found Bendito (the contact) sitting in the back
row. To make a long conversion short, they began to talk and he accepted
an appointment for them to teach him, which lead to another and another.
Which eventually lead to him being baptized and then joining the missionaries
to share his testimony with other investigators. Now he has the
priesthood and is miembro fiel.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I nearly cried when she told me
that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Every effort is worth it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrdBMT0SY2Siq0CwEdK37wHAZChud-IEKFFwzLH996qO4X0aBXUKgOMjqTQGfIJreSU62zHVi0h23DcVrXGL1Jt2L9j3bqHAJ9ePU3dkSTJAWWaVdekgmQDSbfju8wlQEpszyMcCy333a/s1600/DSCN4204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrdBMT0SY2Siq0CwEdK37wHAZChud-IEKFFwzLH996qO4X0aBXUKgOMjqTQGfIJreSU62zHVi0h23DcVrXGL1Jt2L9j3bqHAJ9ePU3dkSTJAWWaVdekgmQDSbfju8wlQEpszyMcCy333a/s400/DSCN4204.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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P.S. Some cholos
unknowingly vandalized a wall with Lehi´s Dream. Clearly descriptive es
the arbol de la vida, the great and abdominal building, and Lehi with the most
precious of all fruits.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCZTLR6Ui81utJBxjOwKDk3c3dGP6FrLGrUYt38eZg6TRhEIlmaxHgv9rM-5iO3ZtY-C53vPN9RLuzytyACzXP_6QB9St6sZXK7xk6yx6uuU6SyuVxvabqGbB7rzK8jEpNcasAraQbkzw/s1600/DSCF6221%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCZTLR6Ui81utJBxjOwKDk3c3dGP6FrLGrUYt38eZg6TRhEIlmaxHgv9rM-5iO3ZtY-C53vPN9RLuzytyACzXP_6QB9St6sZXK7xk6yx6uuU6SyuVxvabqGbB7rzK8jEpNcasAraQbkzw/s1600/DSCF6221%5B1%5D.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-73512880049390849732015-02-17T09:10:00.005-08:002015-05-18T05:17:49.246-07:00Cynthia Linneth Ruiz Salazar<div class="MsoNormal">
This past Saturday, Cynthia was baptized and joined her mom and 2 sons as a member of the true church. She began to listen to the missionaries nearly a year ago with her sons, Josue y Efrain. She wanted to be baptized along with her sons, but because she was living en un union libre, couldn't until she was married. So that became su prioridad #1. Her sons were baptized in April 2014, and Satan began to put obstacles in her path.</div>
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First she had to get a divorce. She was still technically married to her first husband (she married him when she was 16 years old...when I was 16, boys still had cooties...) but he wasn't faithful to her, so she left him and found a new boyfriend. So before getting hitched again, she had to go through a long and expensive process of Divorcio.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SNJB8GmF33XcN_1-82ga2-0IaolDgAEtYPZdwjZiYpgAKk7GddjSDKRneIzPyM2U5WDKnfKu4_6UwnYWLM_SmsKelztN7m-RwCtq0qa12cVtt2NI5GWajfqP4sk6k9Dl2UCPTKksLBzM/s1600/DSCF6328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SNJB8GmF33XcN_1-82ga2-0IaolDgAEtYPZdwjZiYpgAKk7GddjSDKRneIzPyM2U5WDKnfKu4_6UwnYWLM_SmsKelztN7m-RwCtq0qa12cVtt2NI5GWajfqP4sk6k9Dl2UCPTKksLBzM/s1600/DSCF6328.JPG" width="400" /></a>And as if that wasn't enough, doctors discovered a tumor in her brain. After a major haircut and brain surgery, familia Ruiz Salazar once again found themselves low in funds but high in testimony. </div>
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While Cynthia was
in the hospital she was blessed with powerful, spiritual experiences.
When we taught her about the plan of salvation she commented that after her
surgery, there was a moment when she slipped into a comma. She is quite
certain that where "she went" in her comma, was the spirit
world. A bright place, where everything was wrapped in gold and silver.
There she found her two sons who died shortly after they were born.
Happy, and grown up. And in the center of everything, a giant,
magnificent tree. And beneath the tree, Heavenly Father, watching over
all. She said that she felt such peace there, but knew that her time had
not yet come.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz2rzmLv5KJag98ywd32LU33N1NPIa2U0_QZiwDvGvi_g_rnl8FHrZVrHettkKY-wvGToU0ldx3XOKlewDRaBuRteuoi3Asa03A-BXVoYOZjxmehY_viBfVBzkT-1P6KWn4V5l3J9_HBIU/s1600/DSCF6346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz2rzmLv5KJag98ywd32LU33N1NPIa2U0_QZiwDvGvi_g_rnl8FHrZVrHettkKY-wvGToU0ldx3XOKlewDRaBuRteuoi3Asa03A-BXVoYOZjxmehY_viBfVBzkT-1P6KWn4V5l3J9_HBIU/s1600/DSCF6346.JPG" width="400" /></a>After she awoke from her comma, the doctors were amazed how
quickly she was improving. Being able to eat normal foods, walk around,
and such. She recognized it as the effect of a priesthood blessing that
she received before the operation. And while in her last days of
recuperation she read her Book of Mormon. A fellow patient asked her
what and why she was reading all the time. Cynthia explained what is the
Book of Mormon to her, shared her testimony, and gave her new friend her book,
saying that she could easily obtain another one (which we gladly gave her).<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now, even though her hair has grown since then, you can
still see the operation scar on her head.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTjAO3SFReWNjX_P0JyTvtyerUy2tKa9gWkrXN8UW6hwp2R8bQNAYVA3lbvm0z3hyphenhyphenLgmEvvayMRTtYA581a9Orz7ZKNomekoKdsAnQz7heuxNpZPBFJL7z04qEP5NUqlWTbiVzZ5bqchj/s1600/DSCF6363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTjAO3SFReWNjX_P0JyTvtyerUy2tKa9gWkrXN8UW6hwp2R8bQNAYVA3lbvm0z3hyphenhyphenLgmEvvayMRTtYA581a9Orz7ZKNomekoKdsAnQz7heuxNpZPBFJL7z04qEP5NUqlWTbiVzZ5bqchj/s1600/DSCF6363.JPG" width="300" /></a>And now we were left with only 2 problems. 1st: Collecting
enough money to pay for a civil marriage. Resolution: bodas colectivas
para 14 de Febrero. Solo cuesta 1 peso. Now that's what I call
cheap. 2nd: Legally Cynthia had to wait 1 year after her divorce to
marry again.... and February was too soon. Answer: Fast. My
testimony has shot up in regards to the power of fasting. Worried that
the government would shut down Cynthia's request to be married due to her
divorce, she, Hna. Aviles, and I fasted specifically for that cause. In
two weeks, with fingers crossed, we went to submit her papers, and they put an
appointment for her marriage. Not saying a single word about her divorce.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So Thursday she got married, Saturday was baptized, and
Sunday confirmed a member of the Church.<o:p></o:p> The whole ward was amazed that it was finally able to happen. </div>
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It was a good week.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04lirHMuCS-CMOHvP9qxsVxYBwigjqyOtUHT5B34d0xR9sAzi_ace7uLxcSbpXvKJSlnem8Q9CMmDg9miE3haBpaMXfZ8INZTflvsjHX9UhWsFDy-d1cCWP23CO_QunPDA3gNdLFOBk0p/s1600/DSCF6366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04lirHMuCS-CMOHvP9qxsVxYBwigjqyOtUHT5B34d0xR9sAzi_ace7uLxcSbpXvKJSlnem8Q9CMmDg9miE3haBpaMXfZ8INZTflvsjHX9UhWsFDy-d1cCWP23CO_QunPDA3gNdLFOBk0p/s1600/DSCF6366.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<!--[endif]--></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-86417124512045837682015-02-10T09:08:00.004-08:002015-02-10T09:08:52.140-08:00My Work and My Glory<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhan5QCw4yttgR940zAo3HztvCojFuwZsUcy7172wuPWiRHfcQ7-EriBBAjybanO2byNJMjL1quUSwKZqo2s-AF82b0Y0u-vepH-8HiQC2zazcNl06hxwYYLM9SbT3pWSg0FIxE7yQKTNgG/s1600/DSCF6248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhan5QCw4yttgR940zAo3HztvCojFuwZsUcy7172wuPWiRHfcQ7-EriBBAjybanO2byNJMjL1quUSwKZqo2s-AF82b0Y0u-vepH-8HiQC2zazcNl06hxwYYLM9SbT3pWSg0FIxE7yQKTNgG/s1600/DSCF6248.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal">
What happens after 15 months of walking in the same shoes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I´ve been doing a lot of thinking this past week. I
always think a lot... but this week my mind has been focused on a certain
topic, The Deadline. Or in other words, the eminant, and quickly
aproching day in which my mission ends. Don´t call me trunky, o frita, o
muerta. It´s not my falt that has been on my mind considering that
everyone who asks me how much time I have in the mission responds with, "Oh ya
esta en su casa!", as soon as they hear 15 meses. Es el contrario mis
amigos. For that same reason I´m working even harder than before.
The only difference is that I´m buying souvenirs as I contact.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Back to the point. As we´ve been walking to our
lessons, I´ve found myself contemplating, not only on the newly developed hole
in my shoe, but mostly in the purpose of missionary work. It´s rather a
strange thing when you think about it. The prophet sending off snot nosed kids
fresh out of high school to go to a foreign land, to spend two years (or 18
months) talking to as many people as they can about the church... in a language
that they don´t even know. From a worldly point of view, it doesn´t make much
sense. Why not people who know a bit more? Those who have studied
the Bible and know the history of the world? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18U296TAq98FkyvGCVR-AfoomDSMk1EJdjzriA3vonIe32sgXkboKwcQofHFejFCUfchAJ-G8kKceVyMfFy7xp6lFRdZ9ZL7ICIZ1SrhiRZXup7MWt5Etem-l8E_par2rr0XJ1sVbinWb/s1600/DSCF6126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18U296TAq98FkyvGCVR-AfoomDSMk1EJdjzriA3vonIe32sgXkboKwcQofHFejFCUfchAJ-G8kKceVyMfFy7xp6lFRdZ9ZL7ICIZ1SrhiRZXup7MWt5Etem-l8E_par2rr0XJ1sVbinWb/s1600/DSCF6126.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Easy answer, the testimonies. "And the mouths of babes
shall teach them", said Jesus. But what has been puzzling me for the past
week is, why do they have to put a deadline on it? They call you,
set you apart, give you the authority to call all to repentance, and expect you
to do it sin error. But when your time is up they kick you to the
curb. The badge is gone, they thank you for your service, and you´re back
in jeans eating ice cream on the living room couch. Why?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYB9KD110L7RRHTO7zmiTzdDRTsk64jleL-OVP1X_YRHkJv9f5JAIUEsQHtT6tn9Dz2oOlk5ce5KqktuXAPKMcK4yT7f0a8SQc_358dMkY6QEj3WANNpnN-372DyOv84oSPYXSaYLmx16/s1600/DSCF6098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYB9KD110L7RRHTO7zmiTzdDRTsk64jleL-OVP1X_YRHkJv9f5JAIUEsQHtT6tn9Dz2oOlk5ce5KqktuXAPKMcK4yT7f0a8SQc_358dMkY6QEj3WANNpnN-372DyOv84oSPYXSaYLmx16/s1600/DSCF6098.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ensenada Cruises</td></tr>
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I think I´ve figured it out. Something that I heard
Elder Holland say in a MTC talk long ago. Lowering the age of
missionaries, opening up new missiones, most think that it is part of For the
Strength of Youth. HA! No, Elder Holland said, that it is to HASTEN
THE LORDS WORK. Okay, numbers speaking that´s easy to understand.
Now there are more missionaries out in the field than there ever were
before.... but then I began to think about what I´ve learned in the
mission. I´ve learned how to talk openly about the gospel, how ward
counsel should work, how we can effectively work with the members, how to help
new converts progress, how members should participate in lessons, and this list
goes on and on.... <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMvrMPcRFnK0Q61ZSnhFpHvHe-tj9ykL_wbpo9MI_HkrnWY-A6BlsbAFoTNzEZCMlZNMYs_onjYdkACZNqors0UoUgmM_Xr0E9DgiLAEBIGzFlB4cHesAqvFnFQhmYVwK4xpJO0lGxtNW/s1600/DSCF6204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMvrMPcRFnK0Q61ZSnhFpHvHe-tj9ykL_wbpo9MI_HkrnWY-A6BlsbAFoTNzEZCMlZNMYs_onjYdkACZNqors0UoUgmM_Xr0E9DgiLAEBIGzFlB4cHesAqvFnFQhmYVwK4xpJO0lGxtNW/s1600/DSCF6204.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a>I´ve noticed a few things as I´ve seen older and wiser
missionaries finish their missions and go home. ALL OF THEM talk about how
they are going to work in la obra de salvacion when they get back to their home
wards. How they are going to be the member that they always wished they
had to help them during their mission. How they plan on spreading the
gospel and being a member missionary ALL THEIR LIFE LONG. I hope I´m not
to proud to say that I consider myself as one of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCWt_FKhiYh_mce4jNFllfPIkggyXrBliWYrAmnJVjSNitytzOs_udaSyWVM0H7QcCnw1zAhCM4wjJuwnQYIIK8R-nVf_30NuBAk7YrqRcNHKH0tiqK8lrAfBN3mZWedKnERm8-ZZJFkQx/s1600/DSCF6246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCWt_FKhiYh_mce4jNFllfPIkggyXrBliWYrAmnJVjSNitytzOs_udaSyWVM0H7QcCnw1zAhCM4wjJuwnQYIIK8R-nVf_30NuBAk7YrqRcNHKH0tiqK8lrAfBN3mZWedKnERm8-ZZJFkQx/s1600/DSCF6246.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal">
and chowin down on some sweet sugar cane... mexican style<o:p></o:p></div>
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That´s when it hit me. So many people say that the
mission is the MTC for life. It helps you become a leader, know how to
manage money, buy food, live on your own, and work hard. I´d rather call
it the MMTC. The Member Missionary Training Center. La obra del
Senor no es una obra para los misioneros. It´s what the Lord expects
everyone of us to do. He knows that the best way to do missionary work is
though the tiny things that we can do everyday as regular people. As
members, there is so much that we can do to make the work move forward.
The RMs know that, and they know how to do it. I am quite certain that
THAT is why the Lord has called for such a great boost in missionaries.
He´s not expecting that we change the world because we have a name tag on.
He´s just preparing another great army of member missionaries to work in their
wards, stakes, neighborhoods, work offices, schools, and everywhere they
go. THAT is how he is hastening the work. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As a future RM I now realize that is my calling. Going
home still scares me. I still would love an extension <o:p></o:p>of my call, but as a good friend of mine recently told me... even if I get home, hit 40 and I´m still unmarried,... my wards will double in size. They have to split every stake that I work in. haha</div>
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They might take my badge, but they wont take my glory. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhq7ta6ONshf90OLFXj2hwKN7sHuOeevGnL05iCCJqAextUWh1tVUAn4Sbqw2CVJ_tR4panjV6lwggEAgLJQOJXWE-fEmcpGPNYorqJq9zPvz2SqEIvCTE_APYtNKlNveesPA44CjYa63/s1600/DSCF6101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhq7ta6ONshf90OLFXj2hwKN7sHuOeevGnL05iCCJqAextUWh1tVUAn4Sbqw2CVJ_tR4panjV6lwggEAgLJQOJXWE-fEmcpGPNYorqJq9zPvz2SqEIvCTE_APYtNKlNveesPA44CjYa63/s1600/DSCF6101.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ensenada</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-31210164571422807802015-02-03T07:44:00.000-08:002015-05-18T05:19:43.644-07:00Hermana Aviles<div class="MsoNormal">
Hna. Aviles:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Is from Guerrero, Mexico.<o:p></o:p></div>
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20 years old.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9u0wDWpRFg6aDPMfFtsO6PVW6amb3z8oFXTLR2IjKANgj0VGA7ZPEpEzj-Ix7Nz1TMXfTfgMD7ojkpYHppkdT6trk0819asfJ6_PSGcs5ntCekgsFdPn2NhPAKkSww1qLhhhCySMNr6z/s1600/DSCF6162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9u0wDWpRFg6aDPMfFtsO6PVW6amb3z8oFXTLR2IjKANgj0VGA7ZPEpEzj-Ix7Nz1TMXfTfgMD7ojkpYHppkdT6trk0819asfJ6_PSGcs5ntCekgsFdPn2NhPAKkSww1qLhhhCySMNr6z/s1600/DSCF6162.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Her imitation of The Sermon on the Mount</span><br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Was baptized at 11 years of age como nino inscrito.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Has 7 months in Mission Mexico Tijuana<o:p></o:p></div>
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Loves to eat bananas.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hates salsa Valentina (...which I happen to love)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Like me, her greatest weakness in the mission is music.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I'm slowly teaching her English through song.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Deep down inside is a wannabe graffiti artist.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just like I've had my whole mission in Tijuana, she's spent
all her mission in Ensenada.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQwjG28TDrI8LDQqi2GS84tKDGzr5R8FYUToN3YiYqy-p2BaNBAtDgxpDMqcVLC3A1Dnrr72GFzQ32jaGPBdIkHEKn2YuX4ZLphd4U8MdBf3eAjqnZZXpqIRmcferu51YgfTtQx2kZwfo/s1600/DSCF6112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQwjG28TDrI8LDQqi2GS84tKDGzr5R8FYUToN3YiYqy-p2BaNBAtDgxpDMqcVLC3A1Dnrr72GFzQ32jaGPBdIkHEKn2YuX4ZLphd4U8MdBf3eAjqnZZXpqIRmcferu51YgfTtQx2kZwfo/s1600/DSCF6112.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
Hna. Aviles and I have an interesting relationship.
We're sisters! The great and powerful Hna. Torres trained us both.
Actually, the same day when I started training Hna. Pacheco, Hna. began
training Hna. Aviles. This past transfer, the beloved Hna Torres regreso
a su casa (may she rest in peace). As though to help us two recently
orphaned missionaries, President Garcia muy amablamente put us together, and in
the very area where Hna. Torres began her mission! I suppose that it was
so we might console one another about the recent death of our mother.
(Shout out to Hna. Torres!!! I know you're reading this!)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It's been really fun being companions with Hna.
Aviles. The last transfer was pretty hard on her, lot's of crazy stuff
happened, and I've really enjoyed being able to help her see once more the
beautiful, fulfilling side of the mission. We have had a lot of laughs,
and by we, I mean that she's laughed a lot while I've done some pretty
ridiculous stuff. I can't think of a better companionship to have as we
try to raise this ward from the dust. We've seen some serious progress
together, so much that they are going to split our area and send another set of
Elders to serve in Azteca with us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhC6w4JC6OHn9rPVEq6O5lZO9gdchyphenhyphenxLeNuVAsoElVwKvfrWAYPfeHhoz2PvBt059SoeeuxWvVozc0MZZR3KTMNfw2ohXzO0L4DRjIFB7EUW7I9_mgxeN08iPuFW4kuZh3Nq1WVRrkV9r8/s1600/DSCF6194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhC6w4JC6OHn9rPVEq6O5lZO9gdchyphenhyphenxLeNuVAsoElVwKvfrWAYPfeHhoz2PvBt059SoeeuxWvVozc0MZZR3KTMNfw2ohXzO0L4DRjIFB7EUW7I9_mgxeN08iPuFW4kuZh3Nq1WVRrkV9r8/s1600/DSCF6194.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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As for funny moments together, there are a ton, but I have
just enough time to share one:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last week, el presidente de hombres jovenes, asked us to
teach the young men about how they can share the gospel in their mutual
night. Super excited for the chance to make tiny missionaries out of them
all, we tried to think of a fun but educational way to teach them. A
visual example that my mom often used in Seminary classes came to mind. I
quickly ran to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of lemon tea, emptied out the continents
and told my comp, "stick out your hand!".... but in Spanish.
She did so, I propped up the now empty bag on the palm of her hand and told
her, "Ahora, no importa que pasa, no puede mover so mano." And
then presumed to light the tea-bag on fire.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Now what <i>should</i> happen is that the tea-bag will burn
until it nearly reaches the hand, but just before touching skin, lifts off into
the air. An excellent example of faith. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal">
The side affect of our Abinidi incident<o:p></o:p></div>
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I will put it in simple terms.... that did not happen.
Perhaps the tea-bag needs to be made of a certain type of paper... I don't
know. The point is, my comp stood there, looking at her hand on fire, but
faithfully not doing anything. Quite Abinadi-like. Needless to say
that we did not use that example in front of the young men. Instead, all
this past week Hna. Aviles has been asked "que paso con su mano?" We
just say that she was sweeping....<o:p></o:p></div>
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(Editor's Note: In order for this object lesson to work you need Bigelow Tea Bags)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhld_UuOdiwvmZzeEq1MfA2kKXeEeWsXclqDcubsRKvYOU6G_ImSZxnSjJOPW9MOaJYltFG2NWWUXiT5hmJYyRKqBAGJthzZmN40fkrKSbymwO8x83CIhyoTZkPLQgmlKHRFQWcFEe1MGDi/s1600/DSCF6066%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhld_UuOdiwvmZzeEq1MfA2kKXeEeWsXclqDcubsRKvYOU6G_ImSZxnSjJOPW9MOaJYltFG2NWWUXiT5hmJYyRKqBAGJthzZmN40fkrKSbymwO8x83CIhyoTZkPLQgmlKHRFQWcFEe1MGDi/s1600/DSCF6066%5B1%5D.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-48705687880970031292015-01-23T12:48:00.002-08:002015-01-23T12:48:37.891-08:00Si Dios Quiere<div class="MsoNormal">
In these past two weeks I have come to realize exactly how
well my Heavenly Father knows me. Having accepted the idea of serving all
of my mission in Tijuana, being transferred to Ensenada was the last thing that
I expected. I THOUGHT that Tijuana was better for me. I THOUGHT
that was what I wanted. I THOUGHT that was where I was needed. I
THOUGHT I knew how the last 4 months of my mission would end. But then I
arrived here to the Azteca ward.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As I mentioned in my last post, we are unofficially opening
the area Azteca. Starting from scratch. The first week was rough,
but as I mentioned last week, full of tiny milagros. Second week, also
rough, but the milagros continue. That´s to be expected of course.
But what was not to be expected was how much this ward needs me, and how much I
needed this ward. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Now I´m not trying to claim that I´m all that and a
bag of chips, al contrario, I feel very inadequate as a missionary. But I
have realized in this area more than any other that the Lord really needs
certain people at certain times in certain places. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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My companion needed me, someone who walks ridiculously fast
(and if necessary, runs) across our gigantic area to get to our lessons on
time. Needed someone who has 14 months worth of ideas to find, teach, and
animate. The ward needed someone who knows the rules and isn´t afraid to
tell them what they are. Needed someone who could mas o menos sing, to
help reactivate a brother who gives voice lessons for a living. Needed someone
who was willing to eat absolutely anything to avoid offending the sisters.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I needed Azteca to start fresh. I needed a challenge
to get my blood running again. I needed our members to give us
support. I needed to be here and they needed me too. And Someone knew
it the whole time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I know you're not supposed to think too much about the numbers,
and I´ve learned not to. But I feel like sharing just 2 will help
demonstrate my thoughts. Last week we had just 2 investigators join us at
church. Yesterday we had 7, and all with a date to be baptized.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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....si Dios quiere.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-80738583119972626942015-01-14T10:11:00.002-08:002015-01-14T10:11:57.878-08:00Open for Buisness<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm suffering a culture shock. Ensenada is just so,....
nice. Paved streets, stoplights, trimmed neighborhoods, toilets that
work. I don't know what to do with myself! Not to mention that
everything is as flat as an ironing board. What happened to my
lose-weight-quick hills?!<o:p></o:p></div>
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I guess I'll just adjust.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hermana Miramontes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My first week out of Tijuana has been an interesting
one. I got here last Monday to find out that we didn't have a house to
live in. That was a delightful surprise. Due to some security
issues, the sisters in the transfer before me had to leave their old house and
start looking for a new one. So for the past month (and my first week
here) they/we have been living in the house of a sister in our ward, Hna.
Miramontes. I swear, if my mom aged another 10 years and loosed a few
screws in the cranium, she would be this lady. Super kind, but rather
crazy, so we get along great. She has a daughter out in the mission as
well so she is always curious to know how we are doing and what's the latest
"gossip" of our investigators. Anyways, that has been our
housing situation for the past week, living out of our suitcases until they
tell us when we will have our own house again..... which happened today.
Por fin they found us our very own little house and, with the help of the
priesthood brethren, we moved everything in. There is a lot of
organization needed,.. and a boiler for a warm shower, but it's got the essentials.
Cold water wakes you up faster anyways.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Other fun fact about Azteca. One transfer ago, my
companion (Hna. Aviles) and her old companion were sent here to open the
area. But not only were they on a house hunt all of last transfer, but
for the last three weeks the other sister was stuck in bed due to a fractured
ankle. So last Monday, the mission pulled her out and sent me in.
We are starting from zeros. My comp barely knows the area and a few of
the investigators and members who live close by. It's been an adventure
fo'sho'. But although it has been a little stressful getting everything up
and running, those of you who know me wouldn't be surprised to hear that I
secretly like the challenge/responsibility. It's been incredible to see
the miracles that have happened in just this past week. Our footsteps
have literally been guided by the Lord. Of that I have no doubt.
There is no other way that we could be randomly walking down streets, not quite
sure we were and with no secure plans for several hours, and find lost sheep in
our path. It's going to be a lot of hard work, but if I'm meant to stay
here for the last 4 months of my mission, I'm making those months count. <o:p></o:p></div>
Azteca
is about to get a face-lift.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-31762716819224722932015-01-06T10:17:00.002-08:002015-01-06T10:17:37.161-08:00Never say Never<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
La verdad, no se que debo
escribir. No puedo piensar bien o entender mis propios sentimientos.
This whole past week has been a crazy roller coaster of emotions, of which I
don't have enough time to explain, but I'll do my best to give the highlights
of everything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
First things first, I LEFT TIJUANA!!!!!!!
No puedo creerlo todavia. 14 months in this beautiful, colorful,
mountainous, cultural, cholo-filled city. Sure, at the beginning of my
mission I wanted to leave, visit other cities and what-not, but now I've learned
to love it. It's all I know. How the people are, transportation,
personality, and even the never ending hills. That's what I've come to
know as my mission. I was born there, served there, had a child there,
suffered there, grew there, and was ready to die there. Mission Mexico TIJUANA...literally.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
How can I leave?
Honestly, I'm still in shock. But it's all good in the hood.
Actually, I find it quite fitting. All of ano 2014 I served in
Tijuana. Now that a new year has begun, why not a new faze in the
mission? Just need a couple of deep breaths and.....<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
....wish me luck.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico31.857778 -116.6058330000000231.641942 -116.92855650000001 32.073614 -116.28310950000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-63664099232498116832014-12-30T07:43:00.001-08:002014-12-30T07:43:23.669-08:00La Segunda NavidadThe whole month of December has been filled with road trips and concerts. Just like for Easter, the mission got together another group of missionaries to form a Christmas choir. 3 Sisters and 4 Elders. All of October and November we met together to practice and arrange the Hymns we would sing. Some turned out better than others, but considering that we're a bunch of 20, 21 year old misfits, I think it turned out okay. We had 5 concerts in total. 3 in different Stakes in Tijuana, 1 in Rosarito, and another in Mexicali. If it wasn't for these concerts, I don't think I would ever step outside of Tijuana.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Missionary Choir.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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Quick story about the concert in Mexicali. There wasn't enough time to return to Tijuana that night so we had to stay the night with the missionaries who serve there and attend their services the next day. Let me tell ya, there are a couple loose screws in that Ward. It was fast and testimony meeting and the Spirit was strong... but then, with a smile like he had a secret,, a young adult stood up at the pulpit. <br />
<br />
"Primeramente quiero decirles que hoy....es mi cumpleanos. Muchas gracias. Hoy cuplo 26 anos. Tambien acaban de intregerme nueve informacion de (insert names of a young couple in the Ward here.) Todos sabemos que son novios, pero mas que eso estan enamorados. Uno de la otra. Lo que no sepan es que en el ano 2015, ella no sera a novia de el.....va ser la mia!" Followed by a quick testimony that these things are true and a reminder of when the church Christmas activity is. All of the choir missionaries were cracking up! But it didn't end there. Next we went to Gospel Principles, where the Sister Missionaries were teaching about the Millennium. At the end they asked if anyone had questions or comments and one member raised her hand. She shared a story about when she was a missionary 23 years ago and saw strange lights in the sky at night. Long story short, she has a strong testimony that there is no reason to fear the sights of Aliens. They are just other children of God, our fellow brothers and sisters on the other planets checking up on our progression to the Millennium. I'm just glad I didn't have investigators in that class.<br />
<br />
Other fun facts about the concerts. In Rosarito there is a popular restaurant known for it's GIANT burritos. We stopped by after the concert for dinner. Folks, I pride myself on never having left food on the plate during the mission, but I couldn't even finish HALF of a burrito, they are huge, but oh so good.<br />
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the rosarito burros!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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The concerts in Tijuana were nice. I was able to return to old stakes where I served and see old companions and members. One time, after taking us out to eat after one of the concerts, and due to a suggestion by Presidente Garcia, the restaurant's Santa Claus asked us to sing a song for him. So smack-dab in the middle of Sterloin Stolkhom, with what felt like millions of iPhones recording us, we sang "Carol of the Bells" for Santa. Check that off of my bucket list.<br />
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But the best part of it all was the Spirit that could be felt. Whether with a big crowd or small, sound system or not, cracking voices or clunky keyboards, the Spirit was there. Music has a beautiful way of speaking to the souls and hearts of mankind in a way that words cannot compete. Which is why I usually prefer to sing than give talks.<br />
<br />
As a Thank You/Christmas present to all those who participated in the choir, the President took us to the San Diego temple. The timing was perfect. For several months I had been thinking a lot about, and craving to go to the Temple. Taste of that reassuring peace once more. And so the 20th of December we went, crossed the line, and my feet touched U.S. soil otra vez.<br />
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Me with Marlen and Diana and their Xmas presents from the
temple<o:p></o:p></div>
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There's not much to be said about the Temple that I haven't said before. It's absolutely breathtaking and was the perfect remedy to recharge my battery after 13 months of hard work, physically and spiritually. As a side note, my percentage of understanding the language has dramatically increased since my last Spanish session in April. And as a second side note, before crossing the border to Mexico again we made a quick stop at Deseret Book where I happened to see (but not read) 2 sequels to series by Gerald N. Lund and Chris Heimerdinger. *cough* hint, hint * cough* of which I will be expecting when I get home.<br />
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Tijuana is a strange place to be for the holidays. It is so close to the border that the people know about every holiday, American and Mexican, but hardly do anything to celebrate. An excuse to eat, drink, and be merry, but as for traditions, there aren't anything. A couple people put up lights and a tree, and the only places where you can find Christmas music are grocery stores. Every other house is blasting Bonda from their windows or car radios. The only common sight you can find are 10 year old boys playing with tiny firecrackers in the street.<br />
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The more I think about it, the more fitting I find the situation. As I mentioned before, all of December the mission has been focused on the "El es la Dodiva" initiative. Showing with all the true meaning of Christmas. A message of peace in a world filled with stress, competition, criticism, and worries. A message that Christ came. That He taught, healed, counseled and saved. That He does so today. When He came there were no neon lights, just the stars in the heaven. No shinny wrapping paper, but swaddling clothing. No tree, candy, Santa, stockings by the fire, or Christmas feast. Just a choir of angels singing hosanna to a few lowly shepherds....not even a Micheal Buble Christmas Album.<br />
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Last Christmas I didn't have much time to analyze the situation. With barely a week in Mexico I was a little more focused on learning the language and Preach My Gospel Lessons. This year however, as I write, my mind has been reflexcionando. As a missionary, I don't have a tree, stocking, Michael Buble, or anything close to a Snowman. There is nothing to do but focus on the real meaning of Christmas. It was a gift of love. Pure and eternal. And it costed a lot. Del parte del Padre y del Hijo. The least we can do is be grateful and accept it. Always remember Him and show our gratitude and love by keeping the commandments. The feast really isn't necessary and as I've tried to tell my Mom time and time again, nobody even likes the "Frog-eyed Salad" anyway.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Christmas Eve!<br /></td></tr>
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Even though it's my second Christmas in the mission, I'm sure it's the most realistic that I'll ever have. I've felt frustrated, like Joseph at the Inn. Sore feet, like the donkey caring Mary. And lots of self evaluating, heartfelt pondering as I'm sure Mary did all the way to Bethlehem. But hope is always there. The hope of all the world came, and for that we have a season to rejoice, and share the good news with all the world No matter what comes our way, let us carry this hope in our hearts, and let us all press on. <br />
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Feliz Navidad Everyone!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com2Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico32.5149469 -117.0382471000000432.3006719 -117.36097060000003 32.7292219 -116.71552360000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-28733722489786090112014-12-23T05:29:00.002-08:002014-12-30T07:47:42.871-08:00Time to talk about companion number 7. <div class="MsoNormal">
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<ul>
<li>23 anos</li>
<li>Her family learned about the gospel when she was 1 year old</li>
<li>From the Dominican Republic</li>
<li>First companion who is taller than me... by a centimeter..</li>
<li>LOVES bread. She'll stick three slices with cheese in
between in the microwave, then cover it in mayonnaise and cream.... that's what
she considers breakfast.</li>
<li>Just completed 4 months in the mission</li>
<li>Is studying architecture</li>
<li>Has a bad habit of popping her knuckles</li>
<li>If I had to describe her personality with one phrase it
would be, "A sassy black girl who speaks Spanish"</li>
</ul>
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Our house is freezing!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bundled up for some companionship study time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hna. Jimenez and I now have a month working together and
I've really enjoyed it. Even though she had just barely finished her
training when we became companions she is chalk full of animo and ideas.
Not gonna lie, sometimes we but heads with our different ideas, but we both want
whats best for the area, so it always turns out alright. Shes a good
counterpart for me. I tend to get a little impatient and want to GO! GO!
GO! WORK! WORK! WORK! if a bus doesn't show up on time, fine! We'll just start
walking! but she reminds me to take a step back and rationally think
things over. As a team we've seen little miracles and that's what keeps
us going, reminds us why we are here.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As for unforgettable experiences together:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Once upon a time, in a testimony meeting (I'm sure you know
where this is going). The priesthood was passing the sacrament, everyone
was silent...with the exception of a few baby cries, when a cellphone began to
ring. Quickly, the phone stopped ringing and everyone supposed that the
owner turned it off. Think again! In the middle of the silent
chapel, thoughts turned to the Atonement of the Savior were interrupted with a
booming voice, "Bueno? Estoy en la iglesia. Hableme en una
hora."<o:p></o:p></div>
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Missionaries turned to look at one another. Several in
astonishment, others trying to keep the laughs from bursting out. In the
end, all keeping silent..... just waiting for the services to end and explain
things to investigators.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Only in Mexico...<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-31516616178409775042014-12-19T13:15:00.001-08:002014-12-19T13:15:15.819-08:00Here's a little advertising for you. <br /><div class="MsoNormal">
In case your local stake presidents, bishops, or missionaries
haven't announced it yet in your areas, the church has started a "Christmas
Initiative" this month of December. It's called "He is the Gift".<o:p></o:p></div>
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The church has gone crazy in publicating this
initiative. They've bought Facebook, YouTube, billboards in Time Square,
and a bunch of other media sites so that everyone can hear about and watch this 2
minute video. As missionaries, we are running all over town making sure
everyone gets to hear about the video. Why? Because its got some
serious spiritual power. I have no doubt that there will be people who
will randomly come across the video and have a desire to learn more about the
church because of it. We have found new people to teach just this past
week because of it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Okay, so now I'm asking you, if you haven't already been doing
it, to start sharing the news as well. Its easy. Just hand out the
pass a long cards. The missionaries have bucketloads of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I promise you will see the blessings<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.christmas.mormon.org/" target="_blank">www.christmas.mormon.org</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
or if you'd like the spanish version:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.navidad.mormon.org/" target="_blank">www.navidad.mormon.org</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span><a href="http://www.navidad.mormon.org/" target="_blank"></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico32.5149469 -117.0382471000000432.3006719 -117.36097060000003 32.7292219 -116.71552360000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-42460537520121407592014-12-03T07:27:00.001-08:002015-05-18T05:18:08.793-07:00Ninas Pequenitas<div class="MsoNormal">
One lunes, exactly 5 weeks ago, I mentioned a lovely family
that we found and began teaching. La familia Paz Gomez. For the
past month this family has been my pride and joy as well as my tears and
sorrows. One Sunday night, dark and chilly, Hna. Cabrera and I were
walking around with our Ward Mission Leader. Our appointment wasn't home
so we went to plan B.... who wasn't home either. However, the son of our
investigator, cigarette in hand and mumbling into his scarf, kindly helped us
schedule another appointment to stop by. After which, our mission leader
asked him for a reference of anybody that could benefit from our message or
that has had problems recently in their life or family. We pulled out of
him the name of Miguel, his neighbor. With a Muchas gracias, que tenga bonita noche, we moved over
to Miguel's house. It was dark, the lights were out, and seemed like nobody
was home, but with a voice like thunder Hno. Chava (the ward mission leader)
yelled out for Miguel. A window opened, a head peeked through, a voice
called out 'Hay voy!' And we waited. In 2 minutes Miguel
came down, we contacted, and put an appointment for the next day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Little did I know how much I would come to love this little
family. We haven't been able to baptize Miguel and his 'wife' yet because
they aren't married, but their two angel daughters si! Pray for this
family with all you got por favor!<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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</tbody></table>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Marlen y Diana and their little sister Joseline.... she
wanted to be in a white dress too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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</tbody></table>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico32.5149469 -117.0382471000000432.3006719 -117.36097060000003 32.7292219 -116.71552360000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-74133342115522901792014-12-03T07:18:00.001-08:002014-12-03T07:18:49.150-08:00Chillin' with the Lamanites<div class="MsoNormal">
Another transfer come and gone. Another companion
(Hna. Jimenez se llama), another start. It always amazes me how fast each
transfer goes by... and considering that I only have 6 months left... scares me
too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Speaking of those 6 little months, last week I was so busy
trying to upload pictures that I didn't leave myself very much time to write,
and I know everyone has been anxiously waiting to hear great words of wisdom
from a 1 year old missionary. So I'll end the agony now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don't actually feel any different... besides the fact that
I speak another language now. I guess I can check that off of my New
Years goals. But yeah, besides speaking Spanish, eating chili, and
wearing a skirt everyday I feel the same. Actually, not true. I've
noticed a few changes in my behavior. For example: How I walk. I
don't want to be prideful or anything, but before the mission I had a very
elegant walk. In jeans or sweatpants, no. But when I put on a dress
and high-heels, the grace naturally came out as I walked. It's
true. You can ask my grandmas, they'll vouch for me. But gracias to
one year of climbing the mountains of Tijuana, that elegance has
disappeared. It ran, hid itself, and I honestly have no idea where to find
it. All of my companions and several of the ward members have told me
that I walk more like a solder than a girl in a skirt. What can I
say? I take pleasure in hearing it now. We've got lessons to get
to, hills to climb, people to find. I don't care if I'm in a skirt, I
will rock-climb if necessary. But all my companions laugh and I can't
help but be a little scared for the day when I try to walk in high-heels
again. I think I'll need to attach training wheels.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But besides changing how I walk and talk, I've learned a lot
in this past year. My eyes have been opened to what mission work really is
and I've learned to love it even more. Not trying to be cheesy or
anything, but the thought of being back home in mi casa in just six months
makes me more sad than glad (sorry mom and dad). I love the Lord. I
love this gospel. It is the only way to find REAL happiness in this life
and the life to come. I wish I had more time to serve, but meanwhile,
I'll use all I got to serve among these lamanites.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico32.5149469 -117.0382471000000432.3006719 -117.36097060000003 32.7292219 -116.71552360000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2791372388141159043.post-52683752031521628772014-11-12T08:58:00.000-08:002014-11-24T12:52:26.317-08:00Hermana Cabrera<div class="MsoNormal">
A few fun facts about companion number 6.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cabra means Goat, so our ward mission leader calls her Hna.
Goatera<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Birthday is October 16<br />
22 years old<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJoS5n0yomlq3IFqWCM481DAbbog70wzHuxGe8PraRjkAqZAoU2rmq1evGNqT4bNj1PbMGKAdci4Mk1oIU4ixpuV6KTRILEntSVTUUCweP_L1YB4ZklcnreGIn4rJ-S8im2myXfRD5ZdfV/s1600/DSCF2348%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJoS5n0yomlq3IFqWCM481DAbbog70wzHuxGe8PraRjkAqZAoU2rmq1evGNqT4bNj1PbMGKAdci4Mk1oIU4ixpuV6KTRILEntSVTUUCweP_L1YB4ZklcnreGIn4rJ-S8im2myXfRD5ZdfV/s1600/DSCF2348%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a>Just hit the six month mark of her mission<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Born in D.F. but lives in Oaxaca<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her mom is an English teacher so she knows how to speak
quite a bit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I say or do something that she thinks is a little
outrageous she says, 'Sista please'<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Converted to the gospel when she was 17<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After she joined the church, she then converted her whole
family<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Loves to make memes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Laughs at everything<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks to me, her new favorite English phrase is, ´why I
otta!´<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Really easy to scare<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When something doesn´t please her she says, 'Not Happy' in a
cute little Mexican accent.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her hair is super short and curly and she always pulls it
back because otherwise she 'looks like a sheep' ... her words, not mine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I´m teaching her the art of the 'your mom' jokes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPMmeqyYqeHSnAQ1Qccyx6vpj-5ApTd95HvjDQIGsF6qgYz0OmEzH_uXA7iQQJD1dsFqdMvcMkFLix3eeL_OhrhNTOPGm5ccOOVN1jx9abu_kfOUossVXY4p4ot2AqOK1w0pIwgtfjip2/s1600/DSCF2364%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPPMmeqyYqeHSnAQ1Qccyx6vpj-5ApTd95HvjDQIGsF6qgYz0OmEzH_uXA7iQQJD1dsFqdMvcMkFLix3eeL_OhrhNTOPGm5ccOOVN1jx9abu_kfOUossVXY4p4ot2AqOK1w0pIwgtfjip2/s1600/DSCF2364%5B1%5D.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a>She is hilarious in a geeky way, which means we get along great. In her words,
we are a 'forever alone' couple (in other words, we are both so awkward that we
will never be able to get married after the mission and we´ll have to return
and serve as companions again). We are always laughing as we walk to and
from lessons and have to calm ourselves down as we prepare to knock on the
door. I´m her first companion since her training and she often says that
I´m her step mom... awwwww. She´s also really klutzy. Always
falling down or tripping which is really bad because our area is all
hills. So we´ve developed the habit that every time we go down a crooked
staircase or rocky dirt hill, I stick out my arm for her to hold on to and keep
balance with. I feel like a youth helping her grandma, but it´s team
work. Not to mention that every time we walk up a steep hill she has to
grab on to my backpack to keep up with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have really enjoyed my time with her. This transfer
has flown by. We´ve had to struggle a bit in our area but we´ve also seen
some great miracles together. With her and Hna. Pacheco, I now have two
tour guides for when I go visit Oaxaca.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13247374553148645668noreply@blogger.com1Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico32.5149469 -117.0382471000000432.3006719 -117.36097060000003 32.7292219 -116.71552360000004