This week was good. I feel like every week or month in the mission field I just re-learn the same lessons over and over. One week I discover how to follow God's will. Then I find myself not being happy and wonder what's going on and find myself caring too much about what others think and have to regain my eternal perspective and realign my will with God's and it just is a variation of the same pattern over and over. Pretty embarrassing. But you know, I'm sure I'm getting somewhere in my growth. I feel a million years older than when I left on my mission.
This week we had a semi-brief interaction with one of my favorite people I've met. We contacted him (aka we said, "Hi! We're missionaries!" etc.), asked for his phone number and he said he didn't have a phone. "You don't have a phone?!" I said. "Well, I do, but it's not a Christian lady phone. I use it for my work and I don't want to be answerin the phone, like 'where you at?' tryina sell somthin. . .I have seven kids and I gotta take care of them, ya know?"
So yeah, he's a drug dealer. And he was probably no older than 25. Oh man, he was hilarious. He can't stay with one woman. Talking about women, he said, "Yall nag." Then I say, "Wait, 'Yall'? (pointing to me and Sister Wilkins)" "Yeah. All yall nag too much." Such good times. What a personality. We gave him our card with the church address and our number and I really want him to call us, obviously, because he really needs the help, obviously. But people never call us when we give them our number--it's real sad. So, pray for Fred.
We have interactions like these (but this is the first drug dealer that I've been aware that I've talked to) a fair amount. Black people are too much fun. Really. I am going to be soo sad when I no longer have an excuse to just walk around the streets and strike up conversations with randoms, Book of Mormon in hand, "preaching the word," as they say. "The Word" is an actual phrase for other religions, didjaknow?
Sad day. In a stroke of miracle we found the elect, committed them to a date, and are probs going to have to hand them over to other missionaries because they are actually not in our ward boundaries. It was a mom and daughter--super super cool, so ready to change. Ugh. It's fine but I'm still sad.
We are also teaching this black guy named Mario who is super awesome and changing already before our eyes and he better get baptized before I leave!! He just is afraid that he'll want to feel the spirit so bad that he'll make himself believe that he is, even if he's not. He's just, I think, skeptical of what "feeling the spirit" is really like, so we're trying to help him understand that. His heart is really open though, it seems. I am sure he will get baptized, it just needs to be when I'm there. I guess in the lesson he had with S.Wilkins and another Sister when I was away on exchanges he said something like, "I want to be like Sister Ross. She just seems so happy." That made me feel good. Preach my Gospel says something like, Be ready to tell anyone the source from which your happiness comes. It's the Gospel, yo! And it's true!
Well, that was my week. Not really, but you got like 15 minutes of it.
Love, Rachel
ps and don't worry about the drug dealer thing. I always feel really super safe. Really. Things are ghetto because they're dirty and run down. But not like, meth house ghetto. We avoid those places. And we definitely don't go anywhere sketch after dark.
pps Instead of the word "ask," most black people here say "axe" or "ackts" like, "Why are you axin me that question?" and t's get replaced with k's a lot.
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