Zachary Justus Johnson

So we finally got permission to drink Maté in the mission--which is something that all of the missionaries of Latin descent have been dreaming about for years. It's a pretty big deal because the whole point of not allowing Maté (or its cold counterpart Tereré) has been a big part of not only the mission's rules but also it's culture. It was a symbol of obedience, a symbol of sacrifice, something that says I can do hard things. I don't have to do what I have been doing for years before.  I can change We are only allowed to drink or "intake" (as the direct translation would say) Maté and Terere in our own house and using our own "equipo" or set up. You can't just throw the herb in a cup and start swigging. There's a process. You have choose which cup or "guampa" you're gonna use. Are you gonna drink it warm? Most people have an automatic boiler which is actually a pretty nifty and cheap way, but I prefer drinking it cold. The clas...

4/4/2022 Hightower Psalm 144, My deliverer and my shield my stronghold and hightower I have always been told how to deal with stress, why it's important, why you can't let yourself get too stressed out and all that. I think I have passed through a lot of stressful experiences in my life just like anyone else but I've never really considered it a problem. I actually thought it was a positive thing. It helps you learn, make decisions, it keeps you on your toes. I think life would be awfully boring without it.  I would always say this to my friends, "if you don't have girl problems your life isn't exciting enough." What they never told me was how to deal with the "lack of stress." In the mission if there's a slow moment or a little bit of down time it's pretty easy to find something to do. In fact it's good to always be doing something, especially for me otherwise I would just get bored and trunky. But a lot of times when I should relax ...

  It all started with a stormy night in Natalio... There was an Elder in my zone named Elder Melgarejo. He was pretty young in the mission. About 7 months or so. But he was a stud. Handsome, tall, hard working. Just an Elder who knew how to get it done. He grew up in a rougher part of central Asuncion. A city called Luque. It's notorious for its gang violence and "ladrones." Elder Melgarejo was serving in an area in my zone called "Natalio Diez." A small city with a lot of faithful members that sits on the side of the highway on the way to Ciudad del Este from Encarnacion.  He was serving with an Elder named Elder Bariero. Elder Bariero was also from Luque but not nearly as "fachero" to say the least. He is tiny. 4 feet 2 inches max. He sort of just looks just like a little kid with the face of a man. I had heard a couple different things about him.  He walks too fast He isn't a good comp He doesn't know how to plan etc... After we got done wit...

This transfer has flown by (not surprised). That is literally what everyone has told me about the mission since the day I arrived. That it gets faster the closer you get to coming back. It's like a roller coaster. The first half is slow, it's all uphill, it gives you anxiety, etc. What kind of scares me now is actually going back. I was pretty comfortable saying I had 4 transfers (around 6 months) left. But I recently surprised myself by saying yeah I have about 4 months left. 4 months. That's it. When I arrived here again in Encarnacion I sort of felt as if I was returning to my High School after graduating. Even though I'm in a different area it was all so familiar, yet so much had changed. I knew the "halls." I was recognized by the "teachers" here. I often heard, "Hey didn't you serve in the first branch a while ago?" All of the spiritual experiences I had here, the lessons I learned, the people I met. I consider it my Holy Land. It...

It's interesting how at the beginning of my mission the most important thing to me was to write. Write to my friends, my family, my mission president and write about my experiences. It used to be hard, but I always felt so accomplished after it. Now it's hard for me to even write in my journal. It's like I already lived this once, writing it down would mean living it again. Sometimes I just want to forget. But I know that maybe somehow in some way what I learned might help someone--or permanently scare them from coming to this country or serving a mission. A lot has happened since the last time I wrote. I wish I could just sum it up into one paragraph or a couple of sentences but I really just can't. It's simply been some of the hardest months of not just my mission but my entire life (for as short as it is). I think the last time I wrote here I was in Carapegua. I never really go back and read what I write so I don't remember exactly what was going on. But as i...