This week has been pretty darn good. First of all I talked to you on Sunday, so that was that.
On Monday, I gave a tour at the Visitor's Center to these three middle aged (like 50s, 60s?) Baptists, and it was so good! First of all, it's been rare to give legitimate tours, and secondly, to give them to non-members. I told them the whole First Vision and all about the Book of Mormon. We even talked about temples. Actually, when we were looking at the temple display thing I kind of felt impressed to point out the baptismal font (even though my natural instinct would definitely be to just skip it). I explained how we perform proxy baptisms for those who have died, and they have the choice to accept that or not.
The lady (friendly-ly) said, "Now that's where we [our religions] have disagreements. I believe baptism is a choice you should make when you are the proper age and know right from wrong. I believe it is an outward expression. . ." Me finishing, enthusiastically, "Of an inward commitment!!" She seemed pleased that I knew that philosophy and I assured her that what she was explaining was exactly what we believed, and that nobody is forced whatsoever. It was a great tour. She also held my hand at the Christus statue and told of her faith in Jesus Christ and how he led her by the hand when she was sick with cancer. Tears were in her eyes.
So if I could just have one of those like everyday, that would be great. . .
Also, they told the other senior missionary that I was charming! Look at that Mom--the Baptists think I'm charming! Yay!
On Tuesday, we went to Nauvoo on the Road, where we go to an elementary school and give demonstrations. We were in charge of the games section. You know, I ironically love kids, but it also kind of tears me to pieces. I just watch them and want to intervene in their lives and make them make all the right choices. Many of them are going to grow up and go to jail and suffer from addictions and have eating disorders and feel like they aren't good enough and join gangs. There's a scripture right? "Oh that I were an angel and could love-force all of the children into growing up and becoming productive and contributing citizens of the world" . . . something like that, yeah?
Next week is transfers, and I may or may not change companions. We'll see. I have been really really blessed this week to be able to see Sister Petricek as the sweet inner child she really is, and just how much love and acceptance she needs. And also been blessed with the desire to want her to feel that from me.
I realize I mentioned Sociable (the singing fireside we are putting on that is not this Sunday but next) on the phone but I haven't told you that much about it. I'm getting this weird reputation of being a strong singer (relatively speaking--we have a lot of strong singers), and also someone that can hit the high notes. What? I mean, yes on the high notes, but still. I actually think I channel all of my (literal) voice censorship into the singing, and it works out well.
Sort of a tangent--my desire to learn how to play the banjo is also increasing. Already daydreaming of my cool hipster band that will sing church songs. . . lolz
Which reminds me. Listen to the song "I saw the light" by the Lower Lights (maybe it's just my separation from normal music, but I'm starting to think it's my new favorite song). Imagine driving/walking through wide open fields and a beautiful sky, and feeling the happiest you can possibly feel, and that's actually how I feel sometimes in good moments. I don't know if the correct feelings will come across. But I love this land. Yes, I said that. This literal land. The midwest is so great. We got a glimpse of the first lightning bugs of the season!!
I'm so mad at myself. I meant with all of my heart to send some pictures but I forgot to bring the device I need, so it will have to wait.
Love you all!! Colin, write me! Even if you just type it and send it--I don't care if it's handwritten. Although I like when you draw pictures.
Love, Rachel
PS I am aware that some of my emotions might not be transferable through my weak writing and therefore are interpreted in maybe a "she's such a cheeseball" kind of way? Sore-y, don't judge
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