Cool Kidz

I remember growing up there were times when I felt alone. Times when I didn't feel good enough. Times when I felt like the people around me didn't really care. Things that everyone goes through. My mom always gave me the same piece of advice: "just hang out with the cool kids." I always knew she was right, but I never knew what it meant.

In the mission, your job is meeting people. I literally am asked to spend my entire day going out and meeting people. It's actually kind of crazy if you think about it. I am one of the relatively few people in this world who keeps a record in a small notebook of how many people I have met that day. Some days I meet awesome people that I fall in love with immediately. Others take time. Either way my job is meeting and talking with people. Luckily the Paraguayan relaxed, porch-sitting culture makes that pretty easy sometimes. But it also makes it kind of hard. 

As part of my mission I have always thought the Lord would lead me to those chosen people who are "willing to let God prevail," but lately I just feel like the people I have been led to are people that don't take us seriously and don't have time for us. It's sad but it's what happens. And I don't get it. I know God has always worked with a few, not the majority. At least not yet. Isaiah and Jeremiah both talk about the gathering of Israel is a way that seems pretty sparse--"one of a city, and two of a family." In all of the hundreds of people I've met even in just tiny Ayolas only 2 of them have been baptized and only a hand full left show much potential. For all of the time, hours, and tears I've put into this "job" it's hardly anything as a result. I feel like I find someone, I feel great when I teach them, and then they never talk to us again. It happens too much.

Would I be directed to the chosen people even if I didn't put in as much work with the people that don't work out? It's a question that I have when I see other areas that find half the people we do a week and baptized 3 times as many and other missionaries with the same or less time than I do having a lot more success than I have.

I was fasting a few weeks ago for the usual thing, that somehow our friends would come to church.  And to my astonishment, one of our friends was there an hour early. His name is Milciades. He's 17 years old and sort of reminds me of myself. He's kind of goofy and he really likes anime and Fast and Furious. He also sells lottery tickets for a living. And he loves having us over.

He's pretty cool.

Lydia, who I mentioned last time, came to church again too. She feeds us every Wednesday and it's honestly amazing every time. She really cares about our wellbeing. We found out the reason she feeds us all of the time is because she feels really alone and she can't eat by herself. She lost her son when he was about 25ish and it changed her forever. 

She's pretty cool.

This girl pulled her car over to talk to us because she saw that we were Americans. She's honestly one of the nicest people I ever met. Her house is crazy far away but she came to church and she said she read all of my blogs. I wonder if she'll read this and realize it's her?

She's pretty cool.

Our neighbor who just moved in the flat next to us is one of the sweetest ladies I know. She just glows. She always greets us when we come back after a long day (or a short day). She's from Colombia. I was sitting on the floor of my porch one morning eating my classic breakfast (bananas and peanut butter) but I was having a bad morning. The classic anxiousness and fear of rejection. I think I was just too in my head that morning. Just kind of putting my head against the wall looking at the clouds and not really asking for anything in particular but just praying that I would be OK that day. She came out of her house with some wet laundry and started hanging it up on the clothesline. We began to talk. It kind of felt good being alone (my companion was in the shower) just talking like a normal person. For a moment that day I felt a lot better and I know that it was a sign that God had been looking out for me. It was nice. Our Mission President is huge into us writing our testimony in the Books of Mormon we give out. I wrote on the first page of a fresh copy that she brought peace into my life that day and left the book on her doorstep the night I left. I hope she ends up reading it one day. It's really the only thing I can offer to repay her what she did for me, so cool.

I met a lady who was kind of a member referral who invited us in before we even clapped at her house. She spilled her life story to us (which deserves another blog entirely) and then said we could drive her car whenever she wanted. We ended up giving her a blessing and I don't think I've ever been more honored to use the priesthood to bless someone on behalf of our Savior Jesus Christ.

Yeah, she's pretty cool too.

I've always kept a small circle of close friends. Kind of like Heavenly Father's one of a city, two of a family sort of way. Certainly God is Father to all, but only a few choose Him, at least for now.  I have a lot to be grateful for even if the times are hard--or hendy as they say in Guarani. I've been hanging out with a lot of cool kids lately. Not the biggest group, but the good ones, the nice ones, and the ones that make you feel like you are a cool kid too.

On another note I'm leaving Ayolas.

I have been thinking back to my first night here. I remember the night I rode into Ayolas. I was sitting next to Elder Cardozo on a crowded, dark collectivo. I was pretty sick and a bad collectivo ride was not helping anything. But I also remember I had so much hope that night.