A couple weeks ago, we did some street finding through town. We had a nice stroll for about 4 hours. As we were making our way back into town (because we walked to the other city and back) a man stopped us asking for money and help. The shorter side of this companionship is desperate to get those numbers, so we told the man that we can help him with his visa and legal paperwork, so of course this illegal immigrant was excited. First off, this man is from somewhere, idk, but he doesnt speak any language fluently enough to make a conversation, and he cant read anything. He speaks mostly french and hardly any italian. His name is Bamba (the Fruitcake Fugitive). He's a 38 year old fugitive running from the police
If you all could pray that I get transferred to Anziano Prince or Anziano Lex at the end of this transfer(or sometime soon), that would be gretchen awesome!
We started doing service at the catholic version of the bishops storehouse, but it's only for families with little children. I work with 2 old ladies who are just adorable. They asked what my name is and I obviously said Anziano Brady but they wanted my first name, so I told them Tyler and it was too hard for them to pronounce. One of the ladies said I heard Paolo, so I told them I'll respond to Paolo haha. At the end of the "work" day, they stuff a bag full of food because they're worried we arent eating enough haha. They're so fun to be around. There's no one quite like old italian ladies together.
One thing happened while we were doing service there for the first time. Everyone there wanted to know what two young men were doing in their country, so we started to explain. We told them all our beliefs in the Godhead and the plan of salvation, about sacrament, about temples, families, everything, mostly answering their questions. Then Giancarlo had to say something. He was like "excuse me, you aren't Christians. You believe in a different Jesus Christ and God just like the jehovah's witnesses. You worship satan. That's what I've heard, and it's true." Okay, bahahaha
I used to hate Sundays as a missionary, mostly because we're expected to do the same things that we do every day, so it didnt feel like a special day, definitely not a day of rest. Now I look forward to Sundays, I get to see members who are happy to see me, I get to talk to some of them and make friendships, and it's good to just sit there and relax a little while I pretend to pay attention to the talks. There's one member who asked me what kind of gun I have and I told him I dont have one yet so he asked which one I wanted. I showed him the lever action Henry rifle and he just loved it. Then I showed him a .44 revolver and he thought those were the coolest things ever haha.
Sunday night we did a lot of pass-bys, which means that we went to a bunch of less active members homes. The first one we went to, a woman answered the gate phone thingy and we told her who we were and that we were looking for brother Luigi (that's not name, Idk his name) and she said "he's in the bathroom so just wait there" and then hung up. About 30 minutes later, we called again and the member that we were looking for answered and we told him who we were and he said "oh, my daughter thought you were jehovah's witnesses. Come in". Walking into their home hurt my heart, the wife is on her death bed and she hardly has the energy to raise her hand. The husband isnt doing too well himself, but he is still able to move around a little. We decided next week we will start taking bread and water to their home for sacrament. The daughter isnt a member and doesnt like us one bit. As we were leaving, I went to the bed side of the wife and she grabbed my hand and held it for a while, telling me that it's been years since she's felt the Lord's presence so strong and she didnt want us to go. She said she misses her church, she misses the Lord, she misses feeling the spirit. They havent had the sacrament in years because neither of them are physically able to leave their home. We went to some more homes after that, but most of the members had moved so we had some really angry people to deal with. We ended the night getting to know and older couple which was fun. I felt like I was back home doing home teaching haha, that was one of the best nights I've had as a missionary. We didnt do anything fun, we just talked to them and got to know them and that was fun.
Something ishnish spiritual now. I've been reading the most recent conference talks and they're all so good. I read these parts a while ago: "Giving our all doesn’t mean that we will be continually enveloped in blessings or always have success. But it does mean that we will have joy."
"That may be true of all of us—it’s not our successes but rather our sacrifice and efforts that matter to the Lord."
Thinking about my mission, I dont have a lot of success (based on the numbers), but after reading those parts, after thinking about it, when the question "Did you have success today?" arises, I answer it with this question: "Did I make sacrifices and give my all today?" Sacrifice is success. In the words of one of the 2 greatest leaders of this mission "at the end of the day, you just realize what you're doing is good and it's about just loving people and serving people." -Anziano Prince. It's true, it doesnt matter whether people are missionaries or not, members of our church or not, God fearing or absolute heathens, serving and loving people brings that warm feeling to anyone's heart, that's what brings joy. A huge part to serving others is sacrificing something to do that service. Whether it's your time, your attention, your money, sleep, temporal wellbeing, or your life, you sacrifice something to serve another and that's all that matters. When you sacrifice something that's important to you for someone else, you grow love for that person or a people.
I think I'll take a break from weekly's for about a year and 4 months. Love you all and catch y'all on the flipside
Sempre avanti,
Anziano Brady
Anziano Brady
