Suele Pasar

 

Recently, we were walking through a field in a kind of back section of a neighborhood. There were not a lot of houses but we were looking for a member, someone that we were told lived back there. There were a few kids playing a game in the street called bat'e. To be honest I am not even sure how the game works. I believe it involves a bat (or whatever scrap piece of wood you can find) and two markers that could be bottles, bricks, or like a shoe or something. There are teams of two and your teammate pitches to you. The goal is to knock down the marker with your hit. If you don't and if you and your teammate both cross to the other marker at the same time, I think that's a point. While you are doing that however, the other team can pick up the ball and tag whoever is running across the line to prevent the point. I've never played but that's just what I've picked up from seeing it played. Anyway, we cross a bridge--made out of an old door--and just as we look up we see someone's game ball fly into the swamp. Immediately the game stops. Everyone, the four players, and the ten kids watching go and search for the ball. Of course we decided to go help them look too. I remember feeling pretty confident that I would be able to find it quickly but I didn't. I remember praying that I would find it but nothing happened. We looked and looked.  A lost ball wouldn't seem like a big deal but this is a tennis ball, something that just is too precious here. I decided to pray in my head again, not that I would find it, but that at least somebody would find it so that they could be happy for the afternoon. About 30 seconds after, one of the kids found it and they went back to playing. Making sure they changed the markers on the field so that the ball wouldn't go flying into the swamp again.

I'm still in Ayolas. In an area far, far away from the mission office or any other missionaries. I have had the same companion for almost 3 months. The only companion I have had for more than a transfer was my trainer back in Reno. It has been a long time since I have seen other missionaries. Luckily we had exchanges last week. It was a pretty wild ride. We had to get up at 3 am for a bus that was supposed to leave at 4 am but didn't until 5. We arrived last Monday and the Elders in San Ignacio were still asleep. I guess I've been gone for a while but San Ignacio seemed like a huge city to me. And everything was a lot cheaper than it was in Ayolas. There is actually a supermarket in San Ignacio. It was the first time I had stepped foot in one of those for a long time. We ended up taking another bus that day to a little town called Santa Rosa which is where we hung out with this member for a while. She has an Ostrich Farm (as weird as that sounds) and I got to feed some ostriches lemons out of my hand. It is one weird bird and it literally swallowed one lemon whole. For like 30 seconds there was this giant lump slowly going down its throat. It was a sweet exchange.

One of the blessings I have seen from having a native companion and absolutely no English for the past 2 transfers is how good my Spanish has developed. Our district leader, who used to be my zone leader in Encarnacion, has been training Americans for the past 3 transfers and he humbly asked me how my Spanish and overall understanding was better than his. He has almost 20 months in the field and I am coming up on 11. I remember praying every night to just get to a point where I could at least understand the people--I don't have to talk but at least let me understand them. Well, somehow I got there and more. It's sort of that cliche thing that everyone says "oh you'll eventually get it" or "oh that happens to everyone" but it's true. It sort of just unfolds right before your eyes. I still understand next to nothing of Guarani but I guess that's my next thrill.

We had a baptism for Gaby at the beginning of this transfer and our baptismal font (which is a big blue bucket) was FILTHY. I already live in a semi mold-infested apartment, and I thought at least I could have a clean baptismal font but no. There was also a snail crawling around in it that apparently is known for killing people. Some sort of toxin it releases in its slime and if you touch it and then touch your face it can make you really sick. As horrifying as that was, we spent a full two days cleaning the font. That thing was sparkling by the time we were done with it. Kind of symbolic isn't it? Unfortunately, that was not the end of the preparations.

Why does baptismal clothing have to be such a hassle? The clothes are used once a month at the most. But what do you always hear? "Oh yeah--we don't have any baptismal clothing, idk where it went" or "yeah all of its dirty." Luckily the other branch had some and they sent it to us by encomienda, which is basically paying a bus driver to put it in a bus and send it to us. The bus station is really far like 6 miles round trip and we ended up having to go three times because the other elders said it was there and I guess it wasn't. Eventually we got it and it was perfect and clean and we had everything ready for the baptism. Everyone was getting changed and I got a tap on my shoulder from Gaby's mom and she told me "its too small." 

Luckily there were some other clothes that came in our package. They were meant for a guy but hey it worked. The pants we thought were going to be too small but we were able to harness whatever sewing skills two young adult men have and we got the pants to fit. And everything was good. 

Our dear mission president, President Hansen, and his wife got struck with Covid. They ended their mission on Sunday and I thought at first that it was a cruel irony to end a mission like that. Especially a mission that has been marred by the effects of this disease which still happens to be a problem here. We didn't realize how bad it got until we got a message from him that he was in the hospital. For a while we didn't hear anything from them and it was kind of scary not having a leader. The next day we heard that they were alive and that they had oxygen and that they were getting better. The entire mission prayed and fasted for them to get better and he did...he got better. Hermana Hansen already left the hospital and they should be going home safe and sound this Sunday. In a letter he described the experience as a "near death nightmare." He claims that according to our faith and fasting we saved his life. Even our little band of a few members here in Ayolas joined with us in fasting and prayer.

One of the most amazing miracles I have seen in my mission

Just like how a couple of street kids go looking for a ball immediately after it gets lost, our Savior is willing to look for us after we go astray. And just as he is willing to do that, our whole mission was willing to make a humble sacrifice for the well-being of our mission leaders, President and Sister Hansen.