Missionary Work

Wednesday we taught a woman and her three sons the first discussion with the sister missionaries. It seemed to be going well until about midway through when the woman started telling the sisters that she’d seen someone like them before, confusing them with a pair of women from another religion with whom she had a terrible time. They couldn’t convince her otherwise. Then she turned to me and told me that she was not a religious person. I told her that we were not here to sell her or convince her. Even though I could see at times during the discussion that the Spirit touched her and felt a confirming witness in my own heart, there was a struggle within her. In the end she said she did not want to learn anymore. As we drove the sisters back to their area, there was complete silence in the car. We all felt like we had just lost a battle for a very beautiful soul…at least this round. It was very draining.

Last Monday we had a sports day for the entire mission. I was the referee for the basketball games. The sports were fun and exciting, but I won’t talk much about that. What I want to talk about was the incredible feeling of camaraderie, love, joy—I’m working to find one word or a group of them to describe the feeling of being there with all of those young people and a few older ones. All of us had the common bond of being instruments for the Lord’s Spirit, struggling to reach out to those who don’t understand, like the lady above. I was shaking hands and hugging people whom I barely knew, but who I was really happy to see and they were just as happy to see me. It was like we had known each other all of our lives. I don’t want to give you the idea that it was celestial or anything—there were some arguments about some of my calls or lack of them. Just the same, the feeling of sharing that day together I will remember the rest of my life.

The Pyramid of the Sun

Monday, we took two sister missionaries to the ruins of Teotihuacan. There we met up with about twelve elders from our mission. The ruins according to our guide date back to about 150 ad. Our guide, who had strong LDS leanings, said that these ruins were very sacred and a place of peace. As we walked through them, he described theories about what each of the structures were used for all relating to our modern day temples. My favorite was the Pyramid of the Sun, easily the largest structure around with a size that exceeds the Egyptian Pyramids. Near this pyramid our guide took us to a very quiet and peaceful place in the shade of the tree. He expressed his feelings while pointing to different parts of this immense structure, saying that it was the place were celestial marriages were consummated. I was deeply touched by what he was saying and I could feel a very special spirit and a reverential awe to a people who had built such a wonderfully beautiful and immense structure, quite likely to honor Heavenly Father and is Son. By the way, one of the pyramids bears the symbol of Quetzalcóatl, the bearded white god. According to archeologists, the people who inhabited this place were destroyed between 400 and 500 ad. The Aztecs believed it was holy and haunted, and the Spaniards mistook the great mounds of dirt covering the pyramids to be natural hills, and thus did not destroy them as they did many other sites. Our guide felt that they would be restored to their original use in the millennium.   

An Apostle

Friday my wife and I with the rest of the mission had a real treat. David A. Bednar of the quorum of the twelve came to visit us. We all met at a stake center. He arrived about two. We had all been standing out in the sun waiting for him for about an hour. We took pictures together and we moved to the cultural hall of the stake center.

For two hours he involved us in a very personal way. Asking our thoughts and feelings and following up with in-depth questions. Though we were on the front row, Chrise and I felt pretty shielded from participation because he was only calling upon the younger elders and sisters. Then everything changed. He said, “Elder and Sister Fink, I would like you to stand and face the crowd.” We were shocked that he even knew our names and a little embarrassed. While we were facing the one hundred and seventy or so missionaries, he asked my wife how long we had been married (40 years), how many children we had (4), and how many grand children (5). Then he asked her if it was hard to leave them. Tears filled my wife’s eyes and mine and all she could do was nod. Then it was my turn. He asked me why we had decided to come on a mission. I said that since I had left my first mission I had always wanted to return, that we wanted to bless the lives of others, that we had prayed about it and felt it was something that we wanted to do, and finally that we wanted to bless our family. He asked if anyone like a stake president or bishop had asked us to come to which I replied no. Elder Bednar then said to the missionaries, “This couple is living the law of consecration by being here. There could and should be thousands more couples like this, but there are not.” Then he had us sit down and face him and said, if I can remember correctly, “I bless and promise you, Elder and Sister Fink, that your grandchildren will bless the day that you decided to go on a mission. It will have a wonderful influence in their lives.”

After the conference while we were waiting for elders and sisters to file out ahead of us, a hand tugged at my shoulder and I turned to find myself facing Elder Bednar. He thanked me for letting him use us as an example. All I could blurt out was, “no thank you, Elder Bednar (I think I called him president).” Then he shook my wife’s hand and she hugged him. He told her that what he had said was not just words, but were heartfelt and inspired.

During the conference, Elder Bednar said that having an apostle with such a small group was a once in a life time experience. To have an apostle of the lord address us personally and use us as an example of a righteous couple living the law of consecration left Chrise and I floating.

Birds, Mothers, and a Little Sorrow

I want to tell you about a very special person, a mother who has made a big difference in the lives of her children and especially her husband. I have come to know her even more through the image of her dedication, faith and love found with other women here. She is willing to give so much of herself, her time, energy, and thoughts to others. Countless projects she has quietly and secretly wrought with never a desire for any acclaim. Last week as just one example she worked many hours on a simple bracelet of soda pop lids, Much more beautiful than it sounds, it brought a smile to the face of a young girl on her birthday. Such is her stunning beauty.

I’m beginning to remember now some of the reasons why missionary work can be so hard. You spend a great deal of your heart and soul trying to help people see the vision of happiness that you carry within yourself, struggling to communicate in a foreign language amidst a foreign culture, and hang on through the ups and downs of their lives. Always you respect and honor their right to choose and to reject. If they do reject or fail to catch the vision of what you so desperately want them to see, the pain of it weighs very heavy, almost like a death in the family. I think its harder when you’re older. With so many years to look back upon your own life and others that you have known and loved, the consequences of decisions and how they can make such a difference lies clearly before you. Its also harder to let go and move on.

We have a pair of birds building a nest right above our door. I mean it is so close that I practically brush with my head when I walk in. I have no idea why they would have chosen a place so…well so close to our daily lives. We walk through that door at least a dozen times a day. If I could, I would thank them for their faith and trust in us. Somehow they seem to know that we would never harm them.

Agua!

One of the ironies of living here in Ayapango is that there is lots of water everywhere. When it rains, it really rains. But for us in our little house water has been scarce. There is really not much of a city water system. It’s there. I mean the pipes are. They just don’t have running water in them most of the time, and when they do it’s pretty yucky. So everyone has a well. I’ve learned the word for pump very well in the past few weeks, it’s bomba. I’ve also learned how to describe water flying from pipes, el agua está tirando de las tuberías, what to say when the pump has run dry, la bomba ha secado, what to say when water is flying from something on the roof where the water tank is, algo está tirando agua en el techo tal vez el tanque, and most importantly what to say when we don’t have water for anything, like flushing the toilet or washing the dishes or showering or shaving, no tenemos agua.

While I’m writing this on our preparation day, we are waiting for the friendly repairman, whom we and our landlord are getting a little tired of seeing. He rides to our house with his tool boxes strapped to the handle bars of his bicycle and with his wife riding on the back standing on two rods protruding from the rear axel. I should mention that his front brakes dangle uselessly beside the front tire. When I asked him about them, he just smiled and shrugged. In all fairness, I should mention that the landlord is part of the problem, he has refused to spend the money recommended by our repairman to really the fix the problem…and also us—two rather ignorant gringos, who didn’t even know there was such a thing as a water pump until we ran out of water the first time. After which we found out that the process of filling the tank wasn’t exactly automatic by leaving the pump on way too long and probably creating the issue in the first place. That’s why I love this place, the people are so friendly and patient, for the most part.

Last week we helped the elders teach a wonderful family who live just a block from us. The father drives a taxi cab and the mother works tirelessly as the sole employee of her restaurant and catering service. Both working long hours so their children can go to school and the local university. The Spirit filled the room during the lesson, in the way that everyone was of the same heart and mind, teacher and student. It burned as a warm ember in our souls. At the end the mother gave a beautiful prayer. This is a family truly prepared by the Lord. Two days later, the elders were moved from our area and so we are left alone to do the teaching. The mission president suggested that we call upon a pair of sister missionaries in the neighboring town to help us. “Thank you, Presidente!”