Forget yourself, and go to work
Probably the truest advice ever given to missionaries. That's all I can say.
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And this, the greatest of all
Without charity, the work is nothing. I testify. + + + + + + + + + +
The end is just as hard as the beginning
Maybe all my RM friends already know what this means. This past week was rougher than usual, for some reason. For some reason I felt like Satan was working extra hard in getting me to lose focus. I remember it being difficult, at the start of the mission, to keep my thoughts ON the mission. And then the months went by and then I got to a year and more, and it was alright to keep going, to keep pressing forward, because I knew that the finish line was still a ways away. But now that things are getting real...why is it just as hard as it was in the beginning? I like to compare this to running long-distance because 1) that's my thing, 2) I know how it feels to run for a long time and then get tired, and 3) the mission is basically a long-distance race. I remember the times that I ran and ran and was so tired and wanted to stop, but kept running anyway, and then afterwards felt SO proud of myself and so accomplished. I've noticed that into about twenty minutes of running is when the temptation to stop running pops into my head. But here's what I've learnt from real life experience: that when you keep running when you are the MOST tired is when the rewarding finish...feels the most deserved. And so. Alot of prayers were said this last week where I begged God to protect me from the "temptations" of the last stretch. And it's working.
It is working because I started praying for charity. I started praying to LOVE. To love my companion more, to love this area more, to love my investigators more, to love these less-actives more, to love ALL the Filipinos more...I realized that that was the missing link. At the start of the mission I prayed SO hard for charity. So hard. And that was what got me through the hard days. The epiphany hit me this last week that I am probably feeling tired and out of focus because I haven't been praying for charity anymore. I just assumed that I already love this people and my companion as much as I already possibly can. WRONG! There is always more room for love. I testify. There is never "enough" love. There is always more.
And because I have made it an effort to love more, my heart is staying put, now. No more running away to other places in my head. No more feelings of dragging my feet. My heart has stayed put since. And I am grateful. You've got to love.
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We did something right
This weekend was just fantastic because God gave me little tender mercies that I did not expect! On Saturdays Sister Kumari and I head over to the chapel to run, and this last Saturday...guess who I saw, out of the blue?! My RCs from Boni 4th! Brian! Delos Santos? Remember him? Brian? My FIRST ever baptism, like, only two weeks after I moved into the area, and I was estatic at that time because Palawan had been as dry on baptisms as a drought? Brian! I was SO happy to see him with all the other church members (they were playing basketball). I was so happy to see that he was still active in church activities and still going strong. My heart was so comforted. We did something right. + + + + + + + + + +
My family. Mine.
I must say, though, that although seeing Brian was a gift of joy...what happened yesterday at church was a million times better. So Sister Kumari and I were walking towards the sacrament hall...when I notice this woman turned around in her seat, looking outside the doors, towards our direction. I stopped in my tracks and squinted my eyes for a while because I was so confused. Super confused. Was...was that...Carol? And who was that man beside her? Was that...Could that be Marco?What?
Yup. Marco and Carol came all the way to our chapel to attend sacrament meeting. They had missed their 8:30 a.m. sacrament at their ward and...had made the trek to my chapel, all the way from their home. They weren't even sure what time I met for sacrament meeting but just decided to give it a try. They came. They were there.
I cannot tell you the million and one bolts of LOVE that I felt for them as we were together. As we were reunited. I love them SO much. They are MY family. I unashamedly title myself their FIRST MISSIONARY, and THEY are MY family. I have SO much hope for them. I have so much faith in God's plans for them. It's almost been a year and they still aren't married and they still aren't baptized, but I KNOW that there is more for them. I KNOW it. They are MY family. And they will forever be my friends.
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What if, when the time comes, I won't want to leave?
With love,
Sister Teo
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