This week I inherited a mini tramp which has completely made over my morning exercise routine which usually just consists of me curled up in a ball lifting up 2 pounds weights for 30 seconds. Who exercises at 6:30 in the morning? It's the worst. It's lucky I actually get up by that time. Mission miracles.
Yesterday, we had a serious lack of teachers show up to church which means all the missionaries had to jump in. I got assigned to the teen Sunday school class which kept growing every 2 min because NONE of the Sunday School teachers showed up. I guess Mother's Day in California is also a church holiday, who knew. Anyway, I ended up teaching 20 TEENAGERS about the Book of Mormon. I made them all sing Book of Mormon Stories until they had the hand moves down perfectly, then I made them read scriptures and talk about it. They hated it and loved it all at the same time. I felt like I was in front of a firing squad for 45 min straight. I was sweating bullets, my blood was boiling, I was having panic attacks...it was pure torture. The moment I got 3 of them to participate, the 5 on the other side of the room started talking and laughing so then I'd go get them involved and then the other side of the room would start fighting. It was a blood bath. But I survived no doubt thanks to pure missionary power. I was so exhausted when I came out of that room I almost collapsed. But later a few of them came up to me and sang Book of Mormon Stories with the hand motions, so as much as they fought it...they were totally listening. Anyway...I don't want teenagers.
I went on exchanges with Hermanas at the very northern boundary of the mission this past week. That was super fun plus it was in wine country. Fancy pants. I got really confused in several appointments because of the gorgeous houses we were in and all the rich people drinking wine and holding their poodles while wearing stilettos and being fanned by the cabana boys. This is not my mission...where is the pachanga with Jose getting totes plastered in the corner and the flashing virgin de guadalupe surrounded by glistening candles and where are my tacos! That's my mission! I had forgotten the differences of San Jose and the surrounding parts of this flourishing California area. I mean, I had to use forks at dinner. I messed up at first, but I quickly corrected myself when I saw the looks of horror on their faces as I had chicken juice dripping down my chin after I shoved a piece in my mouth with my hands. Mi malo.
Anywho...the work is moving right along here. I had an awesome lesson yesterday with one of my favorite convert families. We talked about faith in Jesus Christ. I love talking about faith to new members. I often feel so jaded about my religious background, not to belittle my booming testimony, but I'm just so used to it. I always tell people that I just grew up knowing this stuff, I was super blessed, it was always there. But to hear someone talking about life without it and then the change they experience...wow - I love it. It's easy for me to forget the importance of such a commonly used word - faith. In reality it is the foundation upon which all joy begins. It is with our faith in our savior Jesus Christ that we know who we are, what we are doing and what our potential is. It is with this faith we can feel clean, worthy and happy. I love the comparison of faith in the scriptures to a seed, for this is truly how it begins. With our tiniest bit of faith, the Lord will really bless us with a blooming tree and delicious fruits to enjoy right now in this life and for our adventures afterward. I've seen it happen, I've felt it, I know it. Hooray!
xoxo,
Hermana Hall
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