April 28, 2014
It was a cold Sunday afternoon. My companion and I are riding our bikes. Seeing someone on the side of the road, we pull over to contact her. I start to speak to her in Dutch... "I'm sorry," she interrupts. "Do you speak English? My Dutch isn't super great." "Oh! Yeah, of course. We're actually from America, so English is better for us, too. Where are you from, if I may ask?" "Portugal," she responds. I ask what brought her to the Netherlands. "I needed a new start." After talking for a little bit, she says we can come over sometime and gives us her address. "What's your name, by the way?" "I'm Carla."
Typical contact. Just another day in the life. Nothing special.
That was about 15 weeks ago, my first Sunday in Lelystad, with Elder Robbins. After twists and turns, doubts and questions, setbacks and miracles, learning and understanding, and a heart sincerely looking for truth, on Saturday, April 26, 2014, a little after 10 AM, Carla was baptized.Typical contact. Just another day in the life. Nothing special.
Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace, when other sources cease to make me whole? When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart, searching my soul?
Thoughts of previous times on my mission flooded my mind. Times when I clamped my jaw shut and kicked the ground just because nothing seemed to be going my way. The frustration and the disappointment. Looking at other missionaries in my mission and throughout the world, talking about the people they had baptized. Not wanting to mention investigators in my emails who were actually making progress, because I was afraid that they would just be another disappointment, and I didn't want to feel like a failure again.
Where, when my aching grows; where, when I languish; where, in my need to know, where can I run? Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish? Who, who can understand? He, only One.
The lack of numerical success. Feelings of inadequacy, feeling like I just could not succeed, no matter how hard I tried. Getting rejected time after time. The times when I did not know what to do or where to turn. As I sang along, tears began to fill my eyes (yes, for those who are wondering, they were manly tears). Not tears of frustration, but tears of gratitude.
He answers privately, reaches my reaching, in my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend. Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching. Constant he is and kind, love without end.
Where, when my aching grows; where, when I languish; where, in my need to know, where can I run? Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish? Who, who can understand? He, only One.
The lack of numerical success. Feelings of inadequacy, feeling like I just could not succeed, no matter how hard I tried. Getting rejected time after time. The times when I did not know what to do or where to turn. As I sang along, tears began to fill my eyes (yes, for those who are wondering, they were manly tears). Not tears of frustration, but tears of gratitude.
He answers privately, reaches my reaching, in my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend. Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching. Constant he is and kind, love without end.
I had always known where I could turn for peace. And, I had turned to Him. I was never let down. In that moment, singing that song, I knew. I knew that every experience, every reject, every disappointment, when I felt like I was trying my hardest, giving my all -- it was all for my best. The lessons I've learned, the ways that I've grown, the testimony I've developed...these are things that I wouldn't have learned so well and wouldn't have been so long lasting if I hadn't experienced the things I had. He was there, right by my side, through all my struggles. He knew exactly how I felt.
I have learned in a more perfect way what the Lord's goal is with His missionaries. As missionaries, we are called to find, teach, and baptize. The Lord will help us with that purpose. But, He has us out here for a reason. He has us out here to change us. To help us grow. To help us become more personally converted. And, if He has to do that through trials (which, let's face it, are usually the best way for us to learn), He will.
We all go through, as the song says, our personal "Gethsemanes" in life. I don't mean that we suffer things comparable to what the Savior suffered. But, we have times where we feel like we have been abandoned. Nothing is going our way, no one seems to understand us. We want to throw in the towel and QUIT. We're tempted to ask God, "where art Thou?" as Joseph Smith did in Liberty Jail. Just know -- He is there. He's always been there. And, if you hang on -- if you make it through the trial of your faith -- the witness will come, in one form or another, and the Lord will have made you into someone who is one step closer to perfection, our eternal goal. That's a truth I hope to always hold close.
We all go through, as the song says, our personal "Gethsemanes" in life. I don't mean that we suffer things comparable to what the Savior suffered. But, we have times where we feel like we have been abandoned. Nothing is going our way, no one seems to understand us. We want to throw in the towel and QUIT. We're tempted to ask God, "where art Thou?" as Joseph Smith did in Liberty Jail. Just know -- He is there. He's always been there. And, if you hang on -- if you make it through the trial of your faith -- the witness will come, in one form or another, and the Lord will have made you into someone who is one step closer to perfection, our eternal goal. That's a truth I hope to always hold close.
I'll leave with that. Next week, I'll tell you all about Koningsdag, and letting the elder from Suriname serve me rice at a dinner appointment. Until then. Keep the faith.
--Elder Bonney
Miracles.
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| L2R, Elder Goates, Brother Beijerling (our joint teach throughout the whole experience -- we could not have done it without him), Carla, and yours truly, |
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| Elder Goates, Carla, and me, right before the service. |
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