January 26, 2011

Kevin's favorite cologne is Polo Black, mine is Bonfire Black. Today (1/20/11) I got to use my portable Red-neck paper shredder, Dad's Document Destruction Device, Copihue matches. I love the smell of a good bonfire. All over me. There is a fire pit in the parking lot of the church/office where they do barbeques. I got to burn old financial records all day long in my jeans, tee shirt, and work boots. I was in redneck heaven, and I'll get to do it again next week. I have a little repair shop and some tools. Yippppeeeee! I think our mission is unlike any other in the world, but then I'm unlike any other missionary in the world.

I've always felt like I was different from other people. I was right. So are you. Isn't it amazing? How does He do it? He has billions of children created in His own image and every one is unique. I marvel and wonder. I guess He could have used a few patterns and molds and saved Himself some trouble, but for some reason He understands He didn't make any two alike. On purpose. What purpose?

He wants us all to become like Him, but as I understand it we will be our unique selves in the spirit world, and in the resurrection and the millennium and in the Celestial Kingdom and throughout eternity. Then we will be able to have “increase” or spirit children the same as Him. Will they all be uniquely different, too? How is it so? A mystery. A marvel. I love it. I just don't comprehend it.

I suppose every teenager feels like they don't exactly fit in. I felt that way for 40+ years. When am I going to grow up and be like all the others? NEVER. For a long time I thought I must have a rebellious streak that made me feel different. Even as a bishop and stake president I felt that I didn't do things the way others did or were “supposed” to. I was right. And I finally owned that it was OK. It's not an aberration. It is not a mistake. It is not rebellion. THIS IS ME. HELLO WORLD.

Of course there are some things Father expects us to conform to. His laws. The laws. He obeys them too. That's why He is God. What if He wasn't always honest? Could you trust anything He said? What if He were unchaste? Would that give you an excuse? Aren't we trying to be like Him? What if He tricked Joseph Smith into writing “revelations?” What if He takes a break and doesn't hear all the prayers tonight? What if He doesn't really know everything? What if He doesn't know ME well enough to have paid for all my sins, suffering, grief, pain, sorrow, stupidity? What if I do something He didn't anticipate and therefore did not atone for? If He is not perfect He cannot be God. I wouldn't worship Him, would you? Who would want to be like Him?

So, He is perfect. And Father says we must become perfect even as He is and that we can through the Savior. And the Savior says we must be one as He and The Father are one. One and Perfect and Unique. It boggles my mind. I don't doubt it—I don't understand it.

This is not my only question. Next week is my 69th birthday. I spent half those years in front of Seminary and Institute classes as a professional gospel doctrine teacher, the one with all the answers, right? Wrong? I'm the one with some really solid answers, some probably so's, some could be's, some I wonder about that too, some Nope's, and a ton of I don't know's. I should feel like such a failure. But no. I still have faith.

My faith has grown stronger the longer I ponder. Questions don't have to produce doubts. They can just as well help us develop faith. If we knew all the answers imagine what church meetings and classes would be like. BOORRRING! Oh you thought they were boring now? What if no one had to think or wonder or suppose or imagine or question?

For me one of the most exhilarating spiritual experiences is thinking, wondering, pondering, exploring, stretching my understanding, expanding my vision, imagining, visualizing, enlarging the possibilities. I can no longer read the Book of Mormon from cover to cover without stopping. I've done that and it was a good thing. I'm glad I did it a few times. Then I slowed down and had a different experience. I like it better.

Some people seem to think they know everything. You know one, too? Well, this is what I say. People who think they know everything really irritate those of us who do. Here's another from my favorite bumper sticker. Eschew obfuscation. Look that one up. In the meantime, keep it simple. I don't like a lot of commentary. The Institute manuals have enough for me and they are trustworthy sources. An earlier General Authority said he would rather drink from the fountain than downstream where the water is muddied by a lot of opinions. Everyone has an opinion.

Someday I hope to know all things and understand all things, but for now it is enough for me to know some things. One of them is what Nephi said: I know God loves His children, but I do not know the meaning of all things. The other is that in a coming day all things shall be revealed, things above the earth, things under the earth, things past and things present, etc.

Don't allow the things you don't know to overshadow the things you do know. Have faith.

Today's sermon was brought to you by the makers of Copihue Fosforos. Try one; you might lite it.

Tues Enero 25

Now for the news. Saturday we had a sweet baptism in the branch. The grandmother of one of my Aaronic Priesthood boys has been receiving missionaries for over five years, but hadn't received their message or a testimony of her own. We have some really good people as missionaries in the branch, some of our favorites. They reached her heart.

We have known her as a member of the Gospel Essentials class, but we can't carry on a conversation, so all we knew was that she was not a member and came every Sunday. When we heard that Fresia was going to be baptized we weren't sure who Fresia was. When we put two and two together it was exciting, and when we learned she was John's (not Juan) grandmother that made it all the more.

Half the branch came, but not at the announced time. Hermana BJ got there at 6:30 to play prelude. Two elders were there. About 7:00 two more came, and at 7:10 President and Sister King arrived. They knew Fresia already. They attend all the baptisms they can. Then two more elders with two teenish boys in jeans and teeshirts. That made 10 of us but no Fresia.

Slowly the crowd grew and refreshments began to arrive with the Relief Society sisters. Elder Madsen asked if I could take him and the Relief Society pres to go get someone. I thought it would be Fresia. We returned with a key they needed. No one but me seemed too concerned that Fresia wasn't among the thirty or so attending her baptism. Elder Granda called her and calmed me with assurances that she was still getting ready and would be along shortly.

I'm not sure how she arrived, but she did, along with some more teenagers, investigators, and missionaries. She obviously has friends in the branch and beyond and has been well fellowshipped. I got to be a testigo again—that's a witness. It wasn't until after the baptism as we waited, not so long this time, for her to dress, that I began to learn of her relationships and connections.

It was a sweet time and I hardly noticed when 9:00 pm came and passed. The refreshment table was groaning under a good $50 worth of cakes, “pies”, sodas, cookies. I was on a sugar high and had to leave early at 9:30 to get some real supper. The party was going strong.

Fresia was baptized by immersion in water about 8:30, then immersed in love for another hour or more, then by the Holy Ghost on Sunday, and by fire as far as I could tell. Her testimony sounded that way. I like hearing the new convert bear her/his testimony as the final speaker at their own baptism, even if I don't understand their words. The feelings are fresh and powerful.

Before the baptism I put out 35 new hymnbooks without saying anything to anyone. A kind soul from back home asked me to use some of her money to do something the branch needed. They really needed. Thank you for your generosity. Sunday, I watched the chorister pick up her new book, turn it over and over, smell it, open it and gently smooth out the right pages and grin from ear to ear before she got up to lead. I couldn't see the others behind me, but her response was enough for me. There were about 40 people at church. They each had a perfect new book. After the meeting, someone brought all the old, ratty, coverless himnarios up and stacked them on the riser. The gift was perfect and well received.

It's 10:30. The playground is still abuzz. This afternoon as I took out the trash two pre-teen girls peeked around the corner and softly said hello hello hello. I repeated and said how are you? Smiles all around. When people warm up they love to show off their three word English vocabulary. Today as I bought completos (think hot dogs buried under guacamole and mayo) an old woman laughingly said words in English after I said them in Spanish.

Yesterday and today were very tiring and tomorrow will be another 12 hour shift. I'm going to bed.

I'm almost finished with a story about how Betty Jane Forsyth morphed into Hermana Pack of Maipu, Chile. She is working on another poem, but I think I'll just send this as is and the stories next time.

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Wednesday (1/26/11) at the church while BJ teaches piano. This week and last we have had trouble getting into the building. Pablo said he would open for us at 5 last week. He didn't. We waited almost an hour and left. This week we asked for a key and got put off. Selinda said one of her boys would get a key and open at 5, but we got a call this morning from her husband saying something about no key until 8pm. The assistants assisted us in getting keys from a friend in the ward. We are in. We have the feeling the branch president doesn't understand or value this service as one of our called assignments from the First Presidency. The assistants are going to talk to him. We could teach somewhere else on Wednesday nite.

Tomorrow we take the piano class to a little branch in the little town of Bollanar about an hour and a half away. The president described it as remote. The previous couple taught piano out there and there is a group of people who have keyboards and want more lessons. It sounds good. They all work all day and can't meet until 8pm so we won't be home early. Elder Jensen will be there to translate and help. We hope it goes well.

Produce market report: tomatoes less than 20 cents/lb; beautiful ripe peaches 25 cent/lb; ripe pineapples three for $2; watermelons $1, $2, $3; huge too-ripe corn ten for a buck. Only one stand had cherries this week and no one had apricots or strawberries. We've been there enough that vendors recognize us and hawk us. I don't understand all they say, but I think they're glad to see us because we spend about ten bucks a week. We spread it out among different vendors. Only one had decent, not overripe bananas, and one has delicious black olives. He lets us taste one before we buy; sometimes they taste different and we don't buy. His shelled walnuts are pricy; we paid $4 for a half pound, but he's the only nut man. Maybe they're off season. When you visit we will take you shopping; you will love it. When Kevin and Jenny come it will be grape season and you can eat all you want for little money.

We got our official CARNET identification cards! So what? Well, now we can sign contracts. We can finally own our own car and get a toll pass for the freeway and a bank account and an internet plan. This prepaid one is too slow and weak. We'll pay the price for good service. I like the way WE (USofA) do business. There is no culture of efficiency here. Hire lots of people to do as little as possible in as much time as they can possibly take without really being helpful, then tell people to go somewhere else, you can't stamp their hand at this window. Just venting. There are worse places.

Summer arrived. It is hot and muggy and the promise is for 6-8 more weeks of the same. But, once in a while there is a cool cloudy day to give relief and most nights are pretty cool by morning. In our very nice 5 story apartment building I see nary an AC unit. The other day almost every apartment had their cooling systems turned up to the max—five windows, curtain billowing.

Today we got FIVE letters. Never happened. The Christmas mail is arriving. Thank you all. We love you beyond words. Life is good. Live it well.

LUV LUV LUV Grammy and Gramps, aka Elder Blair and Hermana Betty Jane Pack