My Side Quest: The Sixth Seal Broke

I would ride my bike 5,000 miles and I would ride my bike 5,000 more. I kid you not, I almost rammed into a wild turkey. Good thing I didn't, that son of gun wouldn't have stood a chance against these chevrolegs! But anyways, let's get to the good stuff.

There's a pair of slacks I've had my whole mission which got ripped at the knee several months ago. I've toted them around for a long time and they've just taken up closet space. I decided this week that I would make them a pair of shorts. I didn't really know how to do it, but I knew I could do it. I cut the legs below the knee off the pants, then folded the jagged edge back to make it look neat. Then I took my needle and thread and started stitching the pants up to the best of my ability. An hour and a half later, I had a pair of Shacks. Short slacks ;) Boys!

We were just minding our own business, sitting outside with some member friends in the evening when the sky started to turn dark. It was very odd how quickly it faded away. Lightning frequently illuminated the air in searing purple and white light. We watched in fascination until it was too close. The friends bid us farewell and we escaped to the car. Things were fine and dandy until the lightning became even more frequent. Then all at once, thick sheets of rain rapidly pelted the car. Fierce gales of wind blasted past us, rocking the poor Corolla back and forth, pushing over trees and signs and anything else in it's wake. I white knuckled that steering wheel as we pressed on, shouting "Whoa!" And doing our best to see the road. Thunder bolts and lightning, very very frightening me! It became so intense that people started just pulling over and camping out. We braved the storm and finished our 7 mile drive back home, fighting our way through the demonic hosts of hell and dodging branches and more. The rest of the night was spent watching electricity violently surge through the air and strike the dank land of Spokane.

We mosy our way onto the airforce base every Tuesday and volunteer from 10:30 AM to 1 PM. The airforce prints out a pass for us when we have an inside man come with us to the office. We received our passes and were good, so we proceeded on to the guarded gates. The guard takes our passes, frowns, and asks, "when were you issued these?" He showed that the passes were to expire at 10 AM instead of 1 PM. Two guards with large automatic guns joined his side and frowned at us. We explained that there must have been a mistake, it was supposed to be 1 PM. They had us pull forward, where we were blocked by a Barrier in the front and armed military police in the back. As I sat there pondering, I had a nice thought. Wouldn't it be really cool if when you were at the gates of heaven, if somehow a mistake was made, you could just sit there and wait without a shadow of a doubt that you were innocent of any wrongs. This was a situation that we could be afraid in, but I sat there, perfectly calm, knowing we had done nothing wrong at all. After 10 minutes, we received an all clear because the people at the office acknowledged the error over the phone and we were permitted to enter the base without bullet holes or a jail sentence. I know that I am not a perfect person, but I know the grace of Jesus Christ helps the repentant sinner be clean, and I aspire to be as calm as I was in that moment when I someday stand before the judgement bar of God.

One fateful morning, I received a call from the mission president and was asked to go off speaker. I was prepared to tell him that whatever he heard I did, I didn't do. He instead sorrowfully informed me of some terrible news which rightfully so could have debilitated me for the rest of the week. I kind of stood in the darkness for a minute or two in awe, then remembered a pep talk I used to give myself all the time. It is, "so what are you going to do about it?" I realized that just sitting there and taking the day off or even the next few days off would do nothing but allow me to soak in the depths of sorrow. A scripture in Alma showed me exactly what must be done. Alma 4:13 in my own words says "these people who had suffered something terrible could have sat and felt sorry for themselves, but instead they served each other. Because of it, they felt joy even in afflictions." I've learned from working out that pain is a minigame. When it hurts the most is when you can not quit. You must press on and finish, for when you feel the pain is where you grow the most. I slapped this situation in the face, got up and began to serve. We had one lesson planned for the day. Instead, I uppercutted fate and led me and an exchange companion on into three unplanned lessons and one new investigator. It was very gratifying to see that when I was willing to take some steps forward, the Lord added his strength to mine and led us to victory. Not only that, but as I've "lost myself in the work" I've found the pain diminish near entirely and I feel as good as I did last week. Now if only that worked for sleep.

We got our transfer calls, and I am peacing out of airway heights and entering the dank land of Lewiston Idaho. Commonly referred to by missionaries as Lewistank, they have a paper mill which makes the whole town smell like rotten eggs. It's always sad to leave a great companion and many friends, but I have been here for six months, and so I'm ready to go to my final area.

That's about all the goods I'll be sharing for today. Catch me next week in Idaho. Or, in like 6 weeks in Utah, I guess. Bye!