It's hard to believe that that much time has passed. That's true. I feel like I've only been here for a number of months. Not an improper fraction of years.
Whenever I read Randy's messages I immediately feel that I'm not doing something right. This time, though, I realized that he's eight months ahead of me. It's an example of what I can be in that much time. I know I still have a pretty good amount to learn. I want very much to be able to say, as he did, I go home having done everything the Lord asked of me. I lack still a good deal.
It has been very difficult for me to understand how to work in such a way that I feel done when it's over. It's difficult for me to always be excited and always care enough. I'm not sure what I'm missing, but there is something. I can't tell if I'm any better than I was. If I could know that I'd not need to know any more.
Seven months to get it.
This week I saw one of the most drastic examples of the Holy Ghost teaching a person independently of any scriptural or missionary help. We have an investigator named Miguel. Miguel is about fifty. When we first talked to him, he was wearing a very worn blue polo shirt and odd washed-out athletic board shorts. His hair was as long as hair can be without being long, and quite crazy and dirty. He carried a grocery bag full of chinese food boxes in one hand, and a keychain made of wire in the other. We started talking to him as he approached his house. We asked him if he believed in Jesus Christ. He said that he did, and he was even thinking he needed to know more about Him to try to be better. We asked him if he might share a moment with us right then. He, surprising all of us, said he would. We had a first lesson, and besides him talking about needing to change, it was very normal: I didn't think a lot of it.
A week ago, having taught a few more good lessons to him, we came over (actually I didn't, I was on divisions). He reported that he'd read to "omni" in the Book of Mormon. I didn't get it at first (if you say Omni with a spanish accent, it sounds like the work "OMNI," the spanish translation of "UFO". I didn't get it at all.
"Oh, good. Aliens. I'm glad he's insane."
"No, like page 200 of the Book of Mormon. Omnai."
"Wait, what?"
Miguel read two hundred pages of the Book of Mormon in a week. I didn't see how different he was until the time I was able to go, which was last night. Miguel had cut his hair, had his kids over (which he hadn't had for many years because he was somewhat of an addict) was wearing clean clothes, and had cleaned out his entire house. As we started to talk with him, his girlfriend, Argentina, came in and started talking too. We taught her the Restoration. Or rather, Miguel taught her the Restoration. We asked him what he remembered and he gave the entire story of Joseph Smith without any help or error. She understood, especially since Miguel said it just like we did, that there was an apostasy and humanity really needed the Church and the Apostles and Prophets. She accepted the invitation to read the Book of Mormon. (I think she was taken aback by how personal our relationship with God is (That's another story.)
She then said something off-handedly like, "Well, it really would be good for Miguel to change."
I would have found that kind of offensive, personally.
Miguel didn't. "That's exactly right. I recognize that I need to change. Why do you think I let these guys in? Because they make me? They don't. They just tell me how to fix myself. But only I can do it. I'm sick. I'm been sick for a long time - and these guys are the doctors."
"I'm not going to make you do anything. I need you to patient with me. I can't tell you that tomorrow I'll be some saint. But I've been through Brazil, Chile, and now I know what matters to me. I want to be better for you. I want to be better for my kids, and granddaughter. I'm doing this to be better tomorrow. Someone died for me. The least I can do is figure out why."
By the end of this, they both had glistening eyes. This is the work of God. I know it not because of my own goodness, but rather in spite of not having much. No weak being could have aligned the paths of me, an older but still very inexperienced missionary with that of Miguel Espinoza of Martin Lutero 443, who needed heavenly help. I don't feel like I've contributed much. But I don't have to. I had to bring him the Book of Mormon and prayer and with that as a runway, God caught him up and taught him things contained neither in the Library of Congress nor in the natural minds of races of men.
People are probably going to ask me, "Did you wish you had prepared more?" In reality, most of what I did was enough. All the seminary and institute classes I took, and the priest, teacher, deacon, and a few Elder 's quorum classes did not teach me the role of the Spirit, nor true Charity, nor Faith in its fullness. I'm not sure I would have necessarily received those messages well. As far as I can tell, the Gospel is based on those three things.
Speaking specifically of the Spirit (which I knew the least about when I came to the mission), I was never taught thoroughly that the Spirit would help me with anything besides lost keys or scripture mastery. I know that sounds ridiculous. But I wish I would have been able to use the Spirit to make decisions. I wish I could have procured the Spirit in my daily actions. I wish I had known that I could have known that my sins were forgiven. So when someone asks me, "Do you wish you had prepared more?" I will say yes. I wish I had lived better. For those of you who are thinking about missions, that is my advice to you. Get to know the Spirit now. If you don't know Him, the only sin is not trying to know Him. In the Fourth Missionary I sent you, it says, "God can help you with anything if you're honest with him." Be honest with Him, and yourself. (Mom : Teach the primary kids about the Spirit. Nothing is as valuable.)
Well, I need to go now and started working on getting my $623,000 to work between a payment of $589,000 and $337,000.
Funny story. It's a classic one of someone who is not me promising someone else something of mine. Classic. I wonder if Dad's ever done this - I had to call both payees and try to get one of them to wait till next Wednesday. Luckily one of them didn't need money until next Friday, so it worked out. A little (they say heavy here to mean stressful or loud or hard {but seriously just the Engilsh word heavy}) heavy. Things have been pretty good except that my boss in the Area Chile office's first daughter was just born so he's gone on Chilean both-parent leave. (In Chile the dad gets two weeks off to help out.) Which means I am the question-answering problem-fixering powerhouse solo for the next two weeks. It's heavy, but it's fun in the way that gunning an oversized motorcycle down a residential hamlet road is also fun. ("I could be a flaming wreck at any second but this is pretty exciting!")
See how compartmentalized my life is? I did do one of those Power of Attorney things. I don't really know what it looked like, but I know I did it. If there's a problem, I'll get permission and start messing around myself.
I am way over time.
Thanks for being my family.
Elder A Conrad Crist
