This past week I had pretty much my favourite missionary day ever.
Basically what it was was Sister Reed and I were on exchange in Swansea. We were trying a new finding technique out for the first time, and it was AMAZING! We invited NINETY-FIVE people to do something! All in one day! It was ridiculously awesome. Which I’m sure to everyone reading this thinks I’m super weird.
Uh, shoulda figured that out already.
But without going onto a HUGE tangent to explain all the circumstances, basically we worked harder than we both knew we were capable of. And there were HUGE miracles as a result.
We found this incredible woman named Jemma. We knocked her door and started talking to her. Her three year old daughter peeked around the corner. I smiled at her, and she turns and goes “Mummy, you should let them come in.” So Jemma waved us in.
What? That has NEVER happened before. I have never been invited inside a house while tracting (except for one time when they thought we were some of their party guests. Haha).
Made me think of Alma 32:23. :D Jemma would never have invited us in if Jess hadn’t decided she wanted us to come inside. But she let us in, and we had a brilliant first lesson. And she invited them to come back. And she is SO ready for the Gospel. The timing could not have been more perfect.
Basically, it was a HUGE miracle, and it was exactly what those Sisters needed in that area. So, unfortunately, I won’t get to see Jemma grow and change, but they will. And that’s what matters. Man I love my mission.
And we met with Martin again this week. We taught the Word of Wisdom. Let’s just say he has interesting theories about having an individual Word of Wisdom. It was pretty entertaining. So just keep him in your prayers. He did NOT accept it by any means.
But he will. It’s a commandment! And if he sincerely asks he’ll get that witness.
All of my investigators are kinda at that point. Which is frustrating. But good. (At least that's what I tell myself so I don't freak out.)
Someday I’ll tell you more details, but basically this week has been full of witnesses that I’m exactly where I am supposed to be at exactly the right time. I’m here for a reason. I’ve never felt more sure of anything in my life.
The church is true. The gospel is perfect. When we apply it in our lives, we are magnified in ways we didn’t know were possible.
I met a man named Peter Evans this week. He’s Welsh. He and two missionaries “fresh off the boat” were the first members in Newcastle Emlyn. From their work, there is now a chapel and a ward there. He’s in his 80s now. His hands shake. His memory’s gone. But he spoke with such faith and strength as he sat there and told me about his vision of having a temple in Wales.
And that’s what the gospel comes down to. And how I love it!
It's almost the anniversary of the Aberfan disaster. It's heartbreaking. The mountain slid down on a school, killing 116 children in 1966. We went to the Garden of Remembrance (which stands where the school used to be) and the cemetery. I can't really describe the experience. People bring it up on the street all the time as a reason why they don't believe in God. But when something like that happens, how can you not? How can you move on without that faith?