The Good with the Bad

I’m not going to lie to you. This has been a very tough week, but it didn’t end our string of great weeks.

On Tuesday, Chrise and I went to immigration in Mexico City. On the way there we stalled in traffic on an off ramp. As is typical here in Mexico, drivers are not content with just one lane even if was built that way. So a big bus decided to pass us on the left. He might have been all right, but he cut the corner too sharply, brushing the front of our car. He scraped the paint on our front fender and side mirror badly but did little other damage. He didn’t stop.

Tuesday night I had a discussion with a very sincere and honest young man, who has been coming to Church for six months. I have been trying to help him recognize the Spirit. Chrise, who was teaching a piano class a few miles away came to pick me up. In the darkness we both failed to see a man driving with no lights. Chrise plowed into him hard, doing considerable damage to both cars. He didn’t stop either.

When we got home, Chrise found a post on Facebook by my brother Mike. My Dad had fallen and hurt himself badly. He was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

Isn’t it amazing how bad things sometimes come in clusters like that?

The next couple of days we spent time calling home, filling out accident reports, and praying. I had another discussion with Raul, the young man I mentioned above, on Thursday. It was a spiritual feast, but he still had problems recognizing the Spirit. I suggested that we fast together today, fast Sunday.

There are fasts and there are fasts. I felt the Spirit so strongly in this fast, an overwhelming feeling of comfort and gratitude. I bore my testimony and the feeling still filled me. After Church I met with Raul and his girlfriend, a member of the Church, to end our fast together. I asked Raul if he had felt the Spirit in fast and testimony meeting. He said he had for the first time.

The blessing of today didn’t end there. I also met a man named Roberto. He had come to church twice on his own. He is searching for happiness and jumped at the opportunity to talk with us. When we said goodbye, he reminded me several times that our discussion will be tomorrow at 5.

My ninety-one year old dad is in rehabilitation and recovering well from a broken femur and a hip replacement.