Each Christmas Eve, the California San Jose Mission had a mission wide Christmas Conference -- every missionary in the mission gathered at Cherry Chapel, the LDS meetinghouse on Cherry Avenue in San Jose. Each zone would perform a skit or a musical number. The Christmas Conference in 1988, when I had been out about a year, was my first.
My zone sang Far, Far Away on Judea’s Plains and I Stand All Amazed in Spanish. The zone leaders of the Eastside San Jose Zone were Span Ams (Spanish speaking elders) and according to at least one of them, I Stand All Amazed is tons better in Spanish.
After the performances of each zone, we broke for lunch. My trainer, and an elder who was with us in my first apartment, came and sat with me and my current companion. My trainer and I had not gotten along very well when we were together, but a few weeks before Christmas he sent me a card in which he thanked me for what he learned from our time together. That Christmas Eve, over lunch, we had a nice conversation; I could not get over how friendly he was being. Meanwhile, as part of reaching for a goal I had set to become more outgoing, I tried to take advantage of the opportunity to make conversation.
After lunch we had a surprise speaker, President Howard W. Hunter, who had some family in the area. President Hunter had an informal, friendly chat with us about some of the neat things that are going on in the church. For example, while the church did not have official recognition in Myanmar (formerly known as Burma), some citizens in that country had found a priesthood leadership manual and some other church materials and wanted to organize a branch inside the country. Because the church was not recognized by the government, they could not baptize these people or organize a branch, but the church was looking for ways to help these individuals without breaking the laws of Myanmar.
After his remarks, those of us who wished to, lined up to shake his hand. When I shook his hand I had the feeling that he would be the next president of the church. At the time, President Hunter was in a wheelchair due to some health issues he was experiencing; at recent General Conferences he gave his addresses while sitting down. Some of my fellow missionaries were not sure when I told them of the impression I had received. Nonetheless, a few years after I came home from my mission, President Hunter did become president of the church. While he was the president only a short time, his example and teachings were endearing to many. President Hunter would pass away not long after the dedication of a temple in my hometown, Bountiful, Utah.
The Christmas Conference was an opportunity to talk to missionaries I had not seen in awhile, from old companions and apartment mates, to some elders who were with me in the MTC.
After the conference, my companion and I went to a dinner appointment with a family in the ward we were assigned to. After dinner we played Pictionary with the two older daughters who slaughtered us -- seriously, it was not pretty.
The next morning, Sunday and Christmas Day, we went to a combined Sacrament Meeting for three wards. After the meeting we stopped by the home of the ward mission leader and watched his family open their presents; they found a few candy bars to give to us as presents.
Then it was off to lunch with another member family. After eating we played another game, Whatzit, where you try to guess names or phrases from jumbled up images. I had a difficult time with this game because it helps to talk it out as you try to guess, and I'm just not that verbal. Otherwise, a fun time was had by all.
After dinner that night, with yet another member family, we stopped by the bishop's home on our way back to our apartment.
At some point that day we opened the packages of presents our parents sent us. My parents gave me a mini-quad and a slide viewer, so I could look at the photos I have been taking out here, which I had been getting developed as slides. Also, they gave me four short-sleeved white shirts; I was fortunate my first summer to be on the coast in Seaside, where the breeze of the ocean allowed me to get by with long-sleeved white shirts. I was certain that the next summer I would be somewhere in San Jose, where it would be hot and humid.
All in all, it was a good Christmas.
June 8, 1988
We had a teaching appointment scheduled with Trudy for Thursday morning, but when we arrived she wasn't there. Her daughter informed us that Trudy had had a stroke and was in the hospital up in Salinas. We got some directions and the room number and then left.
We went tracting, got in one door and met this really nice lady. She is a Jehovah’s Witness and as we were teaching she basically took over. But unlike the J-dubs I have met before, she didn’t bash, she was just so happy that she could not contain it. Also unlike other J-dubs, she used love and sincerity as she taught us. Her message sounded good, too. I was tempted a few times to bash, but fought the urge. This experience was so unlike the one with those J-dubs in Menlo Park and it has filled me with some doubts. While things are starting off better here in Seaside, I am still awfully discouraged. If I am blessed to have the truth, how can I be so miserable while this J-dub lady is so happy?
It was naivety on my part in wondering how this lady we had tracted into could be so happy if she did not have the truth, and how I could be so miserable if I did have the truth. I have since come to learn that God accepts all sincere expressions of faith. While other churches might not have all truth, they do have some truth, and if that is enough to make people happy, who am I to argue. As a missionary, I only sought to add to the truths that others had.
After lunch we drove up to Salinas to visit Trudy in the hospital. I do not know the details, but apparently she has been under a lot of stress and this led to her having a stroke on Tuesday. We gave her a priesthood blessing, in which I did the anointing; then we went to the gift shop and bought her some gum and Life Savers.
On the way home we stopped at the Baker’s, a member family, and talked with them for awhile. After that we came back to the flat to check and see if we had team-ups, which we did not. The Baker’s had a son playing in a baseball game this evening and we went and watched. After the game we went to the Baker’s home to chat some more. Eventually it was time to come home and go to bed.
That night I was feeling a bit disillusioned. For two years I have been operating on the belief that I knew the Church was true. I recall praying one night to ask if it was true and I am not sure that I really felt anything. I thought that I felt good and took that as an answer. Who knows, but maybe my faith and sincerity were not sufficient. At the same time, however, I did feel that my faith had been increasing as I was reading the Book of Mormon for the first time. In any case I was left that night with a desire to know, to really know, if the Church is true.
Before going to bad, I re-read Moroni's Promise, then I turned out the light and got down on my knees. I started with just a normal prayer, but then I stopped and tried to say what was in my heart. I found it difficult at first, but at length the words did come. I talked about my confusion and told my Heavenly Father of my desire to know if the Church is true. Then I asked if the Church was true, and I felt nothing. I cannot say that I really felt anything at all. I again explained my desire and the reasons behind it before asking a second time. “Father, I ask thee in the name of Jesus Christ is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth?” Again, I felt nothing.
Now I began to plead. “Father please,” I said, “I need to know.” Then I said that I perhaps needed an answer a bit more clear than others might. I asked a third time, and again I felt nothing. The tears welled in my eyes as I thought the answer to be no. Oh, how much I prayed that the Church was true. I wanted it to be so very much and I told my Heavenly Father so. The tears began to flow and for several minutes, or so it seemed, I could only cry. Then thoughts began to flood my mind that I had wasted four and a half months here in California; that I had wasted the last 19 years. Not knowing what to do I closed my prayer asking for knowledge and then crawled into bed.
The tears continued to flow and I wondered what it is that I should do, for I thought that I was serving a false church. How could I continue to do so for another eighteen months or so until it was time to go home? I cried and I cried. “Why couldn’t it be true?” But there was something in me that fought back saying, “No, Elder Cox, the Church is true, you know it is!” I guess that it was the desire of wanting the Church to be true. It must have been my love of the gospel and its message. The tears continued to flow. “Oh, why couldn’t it be true?”
Then something whispered to me, “Elder Cox, ask again.” My desire that the Church be true won out. I looked to heaven and my heart cried out, “Is the Church true Father, it is true?” Then it happened, my feelings of pain and sorrow fled and a new feeling of peace entered my heart. It was a warm feeling, and it was as if someone had lit a match in a dark room. The feeling comforted my aching heart; all tears and sorrow melted away. That small feeling brought such great joy to me and all my burdens disappeared. My heart cried, “It is true, it is true! Thank you Father, thank you for answering my prayer.”
I think that maybe the Lord wanted to test my sincerity and faith. The Lord did answer my prayers, but it was not an immediate answer. I asked Him four times if the Church was true, and it was only after the fourth time that I received my answer, and only, I think, because I expressed such a sincere desire that the Church be true. I think that sometimes we expect answers to be immediate, and they do not always come so quickly. Sometimes it takes a while, as well as great sincerity and faith.
I know that the Church is true; that The Book of Mormon is the word of God; that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God; and that President Ezra Taft Benson is the Lord’s prophet today. This does not eliminate the need for faith, for I do not have a perfect knowledge of all things. But these things I know, because I received a witness by the power of the Holy Ghost in answer to my prayer.
So, that was Thursday, June 2, 1988. On Friday, June 3, we had a breakfast appointment with the Bakers. After that we came back to the flat so I could do some laundry. In the laundry room I met a lady who expressed some interest in the church. She said that she wanted to attend our church this Sunday, so I gave her a pamphlet with the address and meeting times, along with a copy of the Book of Mormon.
In the afternoon, I went with Elder Tango up to Marina -- on the other side of Fort Ord -- to visit a few contacts and members. In the evening, Elders Spandau and Victor left saying they were going to get some fast food. Instead, they went to the grocery story, where they ran into a member who invited them home for dinner. They were gone for three hours.
We didn't get much work done on Saturday or Monday. On Saturday we attended a youth baptism and then went to the member's home in Marina for dinner. On Monday we drove out to Carmel Valley to visit an outlet store for Robert Talbot silk ties, only to find, ironically, that the store is closed on Mondays.
I spent Tuesday in Salinas with Elder Juliett, whose comp went with Elder Tango to the monthly leadership meeting up in San Jose, so I got to spend the day with a friend from the MTC. We went tracting in the morning, got in one door and had an hour long teach with an old lady who is too set in her ways. By chance, we had a referral on the same street – okay, maybe it wasn’t a coincidence. Anyway, we checked on the referral and they asked us to come back at 5:00 p.m. After a few more doors we went to see a contact to teach a first discussion, but we got dogged. We tried to cheer ourselves up by eating pizza for lunch. After eating we taught a third discussion to an investigator, with whom we almost got to set a baptismal date.
After the teaching appointment we went back and finished the street we had started this morning. Once we finished the street we went to teach the first discussion to the referral we had contacted earlier. As it turns out, they have a grandson going on a mission soon and just wanted to know what he would be doing. From there we were off to another teaching appointment; unfortunately it turned out to be a bad time for the investigator. It was a good day.
Today we had a Zone activity up near Santa Cruz at Sea Cliff State Beach. At the beach is this old ship sunk at the end of a pier. As it happens, the ship was built during World War I . . . out of concrete.
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June 15, 1988
We tracted on Thursday, on a street that seemed to go on for forever and a day, and placed a copy of the Book of Mormon. In the afternoon, we also checked on a referral. In the evening we had a dinner appointment that turned out to be a take out meal. The sister who invited us cooked the food and we brought it back to our apartment to eat.
We drove out to Salinas on Friday, to see Trudy in the hospital. We were hoping to teach her the second discussion but , unfortunately, she had had another stroke during surgery yesterday and was not well enough for a discussion. After returning to Seaside we checked on a number of referrals without any success at all, no one was home.
In the afternoon we stopped by to see Brother “Bud” Bartlett. Bud is a stake missionary who lives in a shack behind his daughter’s home just over the city boundary in Monterey. Bud also has something like Parkinson’s Disease and is losing motor function and coordination. His wife left him because she couldn’t handle his medical situation. Bud is also the friendliest and most positive member of the church that I have met so far.
On Saturday, we attended a wedding at the stake center. The happy couple, upon hearing that I was a yearbook photographer in high school, asked me to take the wedding photos with their camera. In the evening, we had a dinner appointment with the Bakers. We seem to be spending a lot of time with the Bakers lately because they have a foosball table.
On Sunday, we had a dinner appointment after church, out in Carmel Valley. In the evening we had another dinner appointment with the Bakers, followed by more foosball. Alas, it was all for the last time, as the Bakers are moving to L.A. as the father got a new construction job down there.
Monday marked five months since I entered the MTC. We went tracting in the morning and Elder Spandau tried out a new approach, pretending that we were taking a survey about the church. In the afternoon, Brother Miller, a stake missionary, drove us out to Salinas to visit Trudy in the hospital. This time we were able to teach her the second discussion. We also set a date for baptism, June 26, and it should go through if her health cooperates.
Let me give you an idea of how platinum this investigator is. Out here we see a lot of bumper stickers on members’ cars with an image of the Moroni statue with the letters LDS underneath. Trudy already has such a sticker on her car. She has made three promises to the Lord if she gets out of the hospital: 1. she will take care of her daughter’s son, 2. she will take care of the older lady she is living with and, 3. she will be baptized.
On Tuesday, we took a copy of the Book of Mormon to Brother Bartlett. We helped him bring in some groceries and chatted with him for a while. He used to be a California Highway Patrolman and spent much of his career in Palo Alto and Modesto. Bud is a huge classical music fan, but he does not like anything by Mozart.
This morning we went out to Pacific Grove for some sight seeing.
In addition to spending a lot of time with the Bakers lately, and playing foosball, there is something else Spandau and I have been doing too much of. There is another member family that we have been visiting, and we have been watching television. I am not at all happy about it, but its something my companion keeps wanting to do.
May 25, 1988
I have been transferred, but first let me tell you about my last week in Palo Alto.
Our teaching appointment with Leslie on Thursday came through. We practically flew down to her place but she showed up a little late. When we knocked on the door, her daughter answered and told us that her mother was at her new store in Redwood city. Thinking we got dogged and feeling dejected, we crossed the street, sat in some shade and decided to wait. Maybe we could still get lucky. Then, just as we were about to give up, Leslie drove up.
I taught the first two principles and the steps of prayer. It went really well and she was very open with her concerns. It turns out that Leslie has a degree in anthropology and she has a concern with how the seed of Lehi got here, or that the American Indians are 100% direct descendants from Lehi. She says it does not fit with what she knows. Because of that Elder Milo figures it would take three months to get her into the water.
As we started for home after the teaching appointment, Milo got a flat tire. So we enjoyed a ninety minute walk home. The teaching appointment was really the highlight of the week. At one point, we were turning to a scripture in the New Testament we wanted her to read and I gave the page number as found in the LDS edition of the King James Version. It turns out that the LDS edition numbers pages differently, "There's no such page!" Leslie said. They didn't teach us that in prep, ha ha.
On Friday morning, Milo and the other elders going home, went to the temple in Oakland. They then spent the rest of the day across the bay in San Fransisco. I spent the day with Elders Lake and Able. Milo did not get back until midnight.
On Saturday, the Menlo Park Stake held a heritage fair. The zone had a booth with many foreign language copies of the Book of Mormon on display and we spent most of the day there. At one point, Elder Milo had a disagreement with Elder Baker and my companion told the zone leader to look him in the eye and tell him if he could see even an ounce of concern. Wow. As I wrote a couple of weeks ago, Milo does not appear to be intimidated by anyone or anything.
On Monday, I followed Elder Able in the First Ward elders' car while he ran up to the Stanford Clinic for his radiation appointment.
Transfer calls came out at noon on Tuesday. The call said I was being transferred to Carmel, down by Monterey; in actuality, I have been transferred to the Carmel Ward, but am in a town called Seaside.
Elder Milo left Tuesday afternoon to spend his last night in the mission home before flying back to Louisiana. I spent part of the evening with Elders Whopper and November and went to a dinner appointment with them at a mansion in Menlo Park. The mansion belonged to the owner of the Mervyn's department store chain; his housekeeper happens to be a member of the church. Mr. Mervyn was out of town, and the housekeeper gave us a tour.
I finished packing this morning and Lake and Able drove me up to meet the transfer van at Edgewood chapel. Once aboard, the van headed south. At one stop Elder Golf got aboard. He is going to the mission office to become the new mission secretary and be companions with Elder Lima, the financial secretary. We talked a little and I even helped him with his luggage. I do not know about him, but I had no hard feelings.
There were several stops before the van arrived in Salinas, and that is where I met my new companion, Elder Spandau from Hope, Indiana. He has a cast on his left leg because he tore some ligaments while jogging recently. Because of the cast we have a car.
Also transferred in as the new district leader was Elder Tango, who trained Elder Lake. His companion is Elder Victor. We drove over to the coast and our apartment here in Seaside. How ironic is that? In that sub-line transfer joke they played on me in Palo Alto, they said I was going to be transferred to Seaside Apartment. After Tango and I got settled in, the two of us went to Wendy’s for some dinner.
I am excited about this new area and it is great to have a fresh start. Even so, it was not easy leaving Palo Alto. I left behind a lot of members and contacts that I had grown to love. I left behind the coolest ward mission leader, a great bishop, and some great members, that was not easy. But I figure I will be able to settle in here in just a few days.
As the name suggests, this town is by the sea, with Monterey Bay to the west, Monterey to the south, and Fort Ord to the north. The town itself seems to lie on a series of sand dunes as many of the north-south streets rise and fall along the hills. This place is the opposite of Palo Alto, which was almost entirely flat; there are also significantly fewer trees as compared to my last area.
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June 1, 1988
We got right to work on Thursday and did some tracting; then we checked on some referrals. We were able to set up a teaching appointment with one referral for Friday night. Interesting fact, the contact lives in the same apartment complex that we do.
Friday was an eventful day. We went tracting in the morning; our ward mission leader treated us to lunch at Wendy's; we delivered a copy of the Book of Mormon to a ward member who has a friend they want to give it to. At one point today we had the chance to drive by the beach and we saw a U.S. Navy destroyer and nuclear attack submarine in Monterey Bay -- too cool for words!
At 6:30 we went to our teaching appointment; his name is Charles and he had a friend of his join us. The both of them were prepared for our visit with a few concerns, and we ended up talking for two and a half hours! Here is a list of their questions:
1. In the book Doctrines and Salvations, it says that the Book of Mormon contains the fullness of the gospel, yet there is no mention of Baptism for the dead or celestial marriage -- no mention in the Bible, either, of course. I was able to point out that baptism for the dead is mentioned in 1 Corinthians 15:29. Also, celestial marriage could be inferred by 1 Corinthians 11:11, but Charles said that would be taking the verse out of context and, in any case, there is Matthew 22:30.
2. Moroni 8:18 says that God is not partial, neither changeable, being an unchangeable being from all eternity to all eternity; yet Joseph Smith in the King Follett discourse stated that God is an exalted man. Charles stumped both of us with that one, so we promised that we would study up on it.
3. Certain prophesies of Joseph Smith have not come to pass in the time frame prophesied. Specifically, Joseph prophesied that he would dedicate the temple in Independence or Far West "with his own hands." Additionally, they claimed, Joseph made some false statements refuting (contradicting) the "Word" (Bible). Deuteronomy states that false prophets will come and if they say something that is not "in the Word" they must needs be destroyed and Joseph was, of course, assassinated.
We did our best to answer their concerns, and promised to do some research on their concerns. I bore my testimony and read Moroni's promise and said that everything depended on whether the Book of Mormon was true or not. We then closed with a prayer, which was another interesting thing as Charles asked if all four of us could pray at the same time. Elder Spandau's and mine were rather short compared to theirs -- I thought they were repetitious at times. Also, I thought I heard Tim, Charles' friend, pray in a second language here and there. Both Charles and Tim are in the Air Force and are currently students at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey.
Alas, our day was not yet done. Later, as we were preparing for bed, we got a phone call from a ward member; someone at their home was in need of a priesthood blessing. We quickly got dressed and headed over. There we met a fellow who had been driving from San Diego to San Fransisco, he was on his way to the VA hospital in the City by the Bay. He started to experience a pinched nerve in his back and he had almost no strength in in right arm. He could travel no further, but fortunately he had some friends here in Seaside, so he got off Highway One to get some help.
After talking for a minute or two, the gentleman asked me to give him the blessing, which would be a first for me. I just blessed him that he would be able to continue his travels in the morning and that he would arrive safely in San Fransisco. I didn't know what to expect as I tried to listen for the guidance of the Spirit, and nothing really popped into my head; I just figured that blessing him with the health to continue his drive was reasonable and so I went with it.
On Saturday morning, we went to the library at the stake center to do some research on the concerns raised the night before by Charles and Tim. I read the King Follett discourse and, I have to say, was rather impressed by it. Here are the answers we came up with:
1. Mormon Doctrine states that what is meant by the fullness of the gospel is what the Nephites had and needed.
2. In the footnotes to Moroni 8:18, we see that God is unchangeable in his perfectness. John 5:19 states that the Son can do nothing but what he seeth the Father do. In his discourse, an address given at the funeral of King Follett, Joseph Smith states that the Father is an exalted man, that he did what Jesus did, suggesting that He was the savior of a world or worlds before the creation of our universe.
3. Elder B. H. Roberts stated that Joseph Smith reached his height as a teacher in the King Follett discourse, which was given in April 1844. The work given by God to Joseph Smith was largely complete, and there was only one thing left for him to do: seal his testimony with his blood, and he did so three months later at Carthage. Such is not the life of a fallen prophet. It might also be pointed out that, throughout the Bible, prophets are rejected and killed by the people, and their deaths did not make them false prophets.
4. Regarding unfulfilled prophesies, Elder Tango, our district leader, pointed out that Joseph Smith could still dedicate a temple with resurrected hands.
It is a good thing we spent the day doing research, because that night, Charles stopped by our apartment. We invited him in and had another long chat. We presented the four answers listed above, then I kind of took over -- I had a lot to say. Charles tried to interject, but I asked him to allow me continue without interruption. I taught him the Joseph Smith story and talked about the apostasy and restoration. I even talked about the Plan of Salvation as found in the fourth discussion. I then bore my testimony, expressing my gratitude for the plan and for my Savior. I also explained some of the sacrifices involved in serving a full time mission.
I then challenged Charles to read Alma 32 in the copy of the Book of Mormon that we had given him, and to pray about the book and the things we had discussed. Then we closed with a prayer, and this time only I said it. As I said, I just took over, and at one point my companion decided he could leave the room! -- yeah, I don't recommend that.
We went to our meetings in the Carmel Ward on Sunday morning. In the afternoon, at Charles' invitation, we attended services at the church he regularly attends. For the first hour or so I thought I was at a concert rather than at church as the congregation stood and sang along with some Christian music on the audio system.
We had another teaching appointment on Monday night, this time with Trudy, who is already committed to baptism. She is praying on a date, and we only taught her the first discussion that night. We might end up with a baptism this month. How cool would that be?!
My wife and I are the stake baptism coordinators our stake, which means we prepare the printed programs and do various other things to support the monthly baptisms of those children who have recently turned eight years old. The first Saturday of each month is Baptism Saturday, except April and October when it slips to week two because of General Conference.
Yesterday, just before the ceremony was to begin, the stake Primary president was talking to the baptism candidates about being baptized. The best thing to do is to bend your knees and pretend you are sitting down in a chair, that way you feet will stay under the water. Then she assured them that the water would not be cold. In that moment the story of the first baptism on my mission started coming back to me.
Just after I transferred into my second area, in Seaside, California, we started teaching a woman named Trudy. Actually, we were teaching her the discussions for the second time. For whatever reason, it was decided that this was necessary, and so I participated in teaching her all six discussions. I thought that this lady had to be golden because she had an LDS bumper sticker on her car.
After we had re-taught Trudy the first discussion she had a stroke. It seems that she was under so much stress from family issues that she had a few minor strokes. The latest one landed her in the hospital, and after a few attempts we were able to teach her the second discussion while she was there. While in the hospital, Trudy made three commitments with God, one of which was to be baptized.
When she got out of the hospital we taught her the third and fourth discussions at one appointment, and then my companion got transferred. With my new companion, I taught her the fifth and six discussions a few days before her scheduled baptism. After teaching the third and fourth discussions, I wrote the following in my journal: "This truly is a spectator sport. It is the spirit that converts and it is awesome to be here to see it happen. How did I get so lucky?"
Trudy wanted my former companion and another elder to come back down for the ceremony and to baptize her. We called the mission office but could not get permission for them to come, so I was elected to do the honors.
About this time the water heater to the font in the stake center died. We went to the chapel two hours before the ceremony and started filling buckets full of hot water in the kitchen and dumping them in the font but we eventually ran out of hot water. We had to finish filling the font with cold water.
Just before the ceremony, of course, we took some pictures outside of the both of us in our whites along with my companion in his suit. After the talk on baptism, Trudy and I walked to the font. On the way I told her to bend her knees because she was going down into the water backwards. “Backwards?!” she said. Okay, maybe that was not the best time to tell her. We had stopped by her place the night before to go over the ceremony but neglected that rather important detail.
When I led Trudy into the water she let out a shriek because it was so cold. Everybody laughed and she said it reminded her of growing up in Canada. We got into position and I said the prayer. I then started taking her back to immerse her in the water; she was most of the way under when her left leg popped up. I started to bring her back up and almost lost her. Trudy was, well, a bit overweight, add the wet clothes from being immersed, and she was very heavy. I think I let go of her, but she was back up enough that it wasn’t much of a problem.
My companion, one of the witnesses, told me that we had to do it again because her leg popped up. Trudy was having some trouble catching her breath because she was very cold. We had to calm her down before we could continue. I went through the prayer again, and then started taking her back down into the water. This time she stayed completely under before I started bringing her back up.
I had her most of the way out of the water when I let go and dropped her. She was heavier than I had the strength to lift. This time Trudy went reeling back to the stairwell where she hit her head on the railing. We finally got her up on her feet and we both went back to the dressing rooms to change.
I felt so bad that after, I changed into my suite, I just sat in the dressing room with what must have been a thousand yard stare. I sat there for a long time until my companion and our district leader came back to check on me. They assured me that everything would be okay. My companion confirmed Trudy and the service concluded with a hymn and a prayer. I still felt bad. A baptism is supposed to be a beautiful thing, but this one seemed more like a disaster.
Even before the ceremony I had been having mixed feelings about this baptism. I felt less than worthy of the blessing of a baptism as my first companion in Seaside often decided to visit the home of a member family where we would often end up watching television -- a definite no-no. Then, as noted above, when I taught Trudy it was the second time that she was taught the discussions. I was not there to see her conversion. It did not help when she asked for two other missionaries to come down and baptize her. After the ceremony I felt even worse.
I have wondered for many years what we could have done differently at Trudy’s baptism. It would have been really helpful to me if there had been another person in the font to help me pull Trudy back up out of the water. I do not know if that is allowed, however. I honestly thought I was going to get sued, but it seems that everything really did turn out alright.
Later in the evening we stopped by to see Trudy and give her a priesthood blessing.
I should have been grateful to just to have been involved in the baptism of Trudy. It is the spirit that converts, not us, so what does it matter if her conversion happened before I got there? For whatever reason, it was decided that she should be taught the discussions a second time, and I was there for that.
Then there was my second companion in Seaside, who showed up in time for the last two discussions and the baptism itself. He did not appear to be bothered by the fact that he did not get there sooner. Trudy still needed some help after the baptism with some issues and my companion helped her in a lot of ways, so maybe he earned it a little after the fact.
I have written before about how difficult things were in my first area on my mission, but this is a story that I have not told to anyone before. It started with a practical joke, but it escalated to outright abuse.
Elder Able (names have been changed) was Maori native of New Zealand, and a veteran of that country's armed services. He was initially called to the California Fresno Mission but was transferred temporarily to the California San Jose Mission so that he could undergo radiation treatments at Stanford Medical Center -- he had been diagnosed with cancer. This, naturally, landed him in Palo Alto, my first area. Actually, he was assigned to a different ward and a different companion, but he was in the same apartment as I was.
I do not know if it was the cancer or the Royal New Zealand Army, but Able was a bit of a bully. Right off the bat he could be verbally abusive, and I took my fair share of it. It was pointless to try and counter his verbal shots, it would just make things worse.
There was also some culture shock. Supposedly, there are things frowned on in American culture that are perfectly fine in New Zealand culture, so we were told. As an example, some swear words in our culture were perfectly fine in his culture.
I am inclined to think that Able was a certain way before he arrived in California, and that the cancer served to amplify it. Before long the verbal abuse would turn to physical abuse.
After about a month, Elder Able and I teamed up for a day. After running to the copy store, we stopped by to see a few different investigators. While we were driving around, Able asked to see my high school class ring.
Instead of buying a class ring through the school, my father went to his jeweler to get something custom made. Instead of a gem stone, the ring had my initials on the face and the class year on the side.
Able persuaded me to take the ring off so he could look at it more closely. While we were sitting at a traffic light, he suddenly opened the door and acted like he was putting something on the ground. It honestly did not occur to me that he was up to something. A block later, however, he announced that we needed to go back and get my ring. I was flabbergasted.
I was driving and it was not a simple matter of turning around and going back. Instead we had to go around the block, as it were, which took some time. When we got back to the spot, he hopped out of the car and looked around. A few minutes went by, then he got back into the car and said that he could not find my ring. Naturally, I was a little upset. Able then claimed that it was my fault because we did not go back immediately to look for my ring.
This did not help my mood. I said that he was going to have to pay for a new ring, and he chastised me for being unforgiving.
A couple of weeks earlier, some elders in the district had played a practical joke on me, the one about the subline transfer. It was basically harmless, providing little more than embarrassment for falling for the joke. This bit with my class ring, however, was different, with the potential loss of something valuable, both sentimental and monetary. Able, as it turned out, was just getting started.
When I got back at the apartment, I lay down on the couch, still very upset. After a few minutes Able came back into the living room and demanded an apology -- hey, the guy had nerve. My response was to say nothing, which apparently was not the right one. He grabbed me and put me into what he called a pressure position. Basically, he turned me into a pretzel, and the more I fought, the worse it got.
He demanded again that I apologize, and this time I gave in. He then told me to relax, and as I did so he let me go. He said something about resisting making things worse and that if you relax it gets better, to which he added "and you get your ring back," as he pulled my class ring out of his pocket.
I was not amused. When Able walked away, I jumped up from the couch and ran for the door. I had reached the breaking point; I was not going to put up with B.S. like this for two years. I had had enough and I was leaving.
I pulled the front door to the apartment open so hard that the doorknob put a hole in the wall. But I got no further. Able caught me at the door and put me in another pressure position until I surrendered.
My mission had turned into a nightmare, and I felt trapped.
If I had simply walked to the door, I might have made it, but I honestly do not know what I would have done if I had made it outside.
I wish I could say that things got better, but they did not. Even so, God sent me a lifeline. Just a week and a half later a real special transfer resulted in my getting a new companion. This new elder gave me what I needed to survive my last three weeks in Palo Alto.
One morning, however, Elder Able asked me if I would be willing to go on a 30 mile bike ride with him every other morning. Previous to this there had been a few evenings where I had followed him on my bike as he went for a run. The physical exercise was helping him cope with the cancer and the radiation treatments. I declined because I honestly did not think I was physically up to it. This upset Able who responded by sweeping toiletries off the bathroom sink.
My new companion, who was not one to be intimidated by anyone, suggested that Able was being a bit childish. Able replied by throwing Elder Milo's shaving kit at him. My companion got out of bed and said, "I don't know what's got your goat man."
Able grabbed Milo and pushed him against the wall. When my companion calmed down, Able let him go. But this was not the end of it. Able sat down on my bed and started to shed clothing. In the meantime, Milo went to the living room to make a phone call.
Able was breathing fire when he reached the living room. "Who are you calling?!" he shouted.
"President," Milo said flatly
Able replied by punching my companion in the throat before throwing him against the wall. When Milo bounced off the wall, Able pushed him again. Milo was on the verge of losing consciousness when Able threw him over a chair -- he likely would have been knocked out if he had been pushed against the wall again.
I just stood there dumbstruck. Finally, the other elder in the apartment, Elder Lake, my former companion, rushed out into the living room and got between Able and Milo, stopping the action.
We all sat down to talk it out. Able asked me why I was so reluctant to go bike riding with him. As an answer I suggested he take a look at the bruises on my arm and shoulder. But Milo had gotten the worst of it. Later, when we took Able to his appointment at Stanford Medical, my companion asked a ward member, who was also a doctor on the hospital staff, to stitch up a wound in his scalp.
Two weeks later Elder Milo finished his mission and went home, and I was finally transferred out of Palo Alto.
May 11, 1988
On Thursday, my new companion and I walked down to the bank on University Ave, got haircuts, and then hopped over to Walgreens to pick up slides I had taken to get developed. The slides are from the first three rolls of film I have shot on my mission, beginning in the MTC. In the afternoon, we went to check on a referral; he said he was not interested, but we were able to give him a audio cassette of Our Heavenly Father's Plan and our phone number.
We called Lloyd, one of our contacts, on Friday morning. When we asked if we could set up an appointment he replied, "Well, like I said at the onset: I'm Catholic and I'll probably die Catholic and I'm not really interested in changing." He went on to say, "I don't know that I'm really searching. I thank you for your dedication, but I think you would better spend your time teaching someone who is interested." Essentially, he dropped us; as it was, however, I was considering dropping him if we had been unable to set up an appointment.
In the afternoon we rode our bikes all the way down to Leslie's place on Corina. We chatted with her for ten minutes, and hopefully built a relationship of trust by getting to know her. She is opening her own shop on the fifteenth, she fixes up antiques and makes quilts. After the opening, her schedule should ease up so we can start teaching her. She is interested in learning more and looks promising. Leslie is one of the few reasons I might want to stay in Palo Alto.
After that, we went tracting. At one house we almost had a Book of Mormon placed when this lady acted like we offended her. She gave the book back and told me to cross her name off the tracting card. This bummed Elder Milo out bad.
On Saturday, we stayed in the flat most of the day and studied. In the early evening, we hopped down to the ward mission leader's home but missed the WML again. We talked to his wife, who said their son Josh wasn’t feeling well, in fact rather bad. She asked us to give Josh a priesthood blessing; I did the anointing.
Elder Milo is incredibly outgoing; he doesn’t seem to be intimidated by anyone or anything. So imagine my surprise when he told me that before he came out he was so shy that he couldn’t even order a hamburger at a fast food restaurant. In fact, he didn’t even speak at his farewell; he has a twin brother and the meeting was for both of them. He didn’t even show up to the meeting until the last five or ten minutes. The bishop asked if he would come up and bear his testimony but he declined.
After being out awhile another missionary pointed out that it was all just intimidation. Milo realized that he was allowing that girl behind the counter at the fast food place to intimidate him and that struck him as ridiculous. I wrote about Elder Sierra last week, he and Milo demonstrate that remarkable transformations are possible on a mission.
We had a zone conference on Tuesday up (or down, according to the locals) in San Mateo. If there was a theme it would have been obedience to the mission rules. I got up during the testimony session in the afternoon and talked about how I had committed to living the mission rules. I read 1 Nephi 3:7 -- "I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded. . . ." -- and then Helaman 10:4-5:
"Blessed art thou Nephi, for those things which thou hast done: for I have beheld how thou hast with unwearyingness declared the word, which I have given unto thee, unto this people. And thou hast not feared them, and hast not sought thine own life, but hast sought my will, and to keep my commandments. And now, because thou hast done this with such unwearyingness, behold, I will bless thee forever; and I will make thee mighty in word and in deed, in faith and in works; yea, even that all things shall be done unto thee according to thy word; for thou shalt not ask that which is contrary to my will."
I then said that in the MTC, it was easy to live the mission rules, but when I got out here, I was timid of what others might think, so I have not been diligent in keeping my commitment to live the mission rules. I blamed myself for the lack of anything going on in the Palo Alto Second Ward. I considered breaking my commitment to be a transgression, and I apologized to President Douglas. I then committed with him to live the mission rules. I said that it didn't matter what others thought because I knew I would be blessed in the long run.
After I sat down, it occurred to me that some might think that I was brown-nosing, but mostly some missionaries told me that what I did took guts. My flat-mates said I did a good job. President Douglas thanked me and said that he knew I would hang in there.
Meanwhile, Milo is driving me crazy, trying to get me trunky. But I am looking forward too much to what lies ahead in the next 20 months.
Today was a hot one, the hottest since I got here. We played basketball this morning then went to the hills in Woodside to play nine holes of golf on the worst course ever. Seriously, there were gopher holes everywhere. Perhaps the shoddy grounds keeping explains why a group of missionaries was able to afford playing a round or two here. In my third ever round of nine holes -- the priest quorum played on a course in Park City two years ago as an activity -- I shot a 54 on a par 29.
--
May 18, 1988
Things are starting to pick up a little around here. Tomorrow, if all goes well, I will teach my first standard discussion to Leslie. Woo Hoo!
Last Thursday we went out to check on some old call backs that we hadn't managed to get back to. The first was not interested, the second was not home, and the third was busy and asked us to come back.
On Friday we stayed in and studied. There does not seem to be much work to do; we could tract but the fact that it is typically fruitless is not very appealing. We could try to see members, but they are usually not home as both parents typically work. I can see Elder Golf's point of view, but he taught and baptized here. He had success here. The most success I have had is getting in off a door approach. I also have not had success anywhere else as this is my first area.
We did more studying on Saturday before going out in the afternoon. When we returned to our flat in the evening, we ran into a group of born-agains in the parking lot of the apartment complex. They saw us and pounced. The ring leader asked us how we were "saved." I answered by talking about accepting Christ as our Savior, repenting of our sins and being baptized into His church. I was interrupted and the discussion went off on the necessity of baptism.
"Do we need to be raised on a cross to die and be resurrected to follow Christ's example?" asked the ring leader. My companion answered, and when it appeared that he was getting the upper hand, the born-agains immediately changed the subject. The ring leader claimed that the Book of Mormon is false and said that “no man could add to the Bible.” He said that he had read parts of it and knew it was not true. He said that Joseph Smith was a thrill seeker.
When they changed the subject from baptism I just stopped talking, as I realized it would do no good. At one point, however, I was about to respond when Elder Milo stopped me. The discussion continued for a few more minutes between my companion and the ring leader, who kept changing the subject each time Milo started making a good argument. Then the born-agains claimed that they had to leave, but in a show of bravado challenged us to attend a revival the following week. If we had any guts we would be there, the ring leader claimed, but the location is out of our zone.
It rained on Monday, so we stayed in and studied. That night I followed Elder Able on my bike as he went running. As we were going along, a thought hit me: “The fact that I have learned so much here makes this a successful area.” Wow, what a true statement! I am not the same person that stepped off the plane in San Jose. I have learned so much there is just no way that I can list all the lessons. I have learned and I have grown. I have overcome challenges. In four months I have noticed a lot of improvement in my ability to communicate with others. But I am ready to move on to the next battlefield.
On Tuesday, we taught a new member lesson to a member of the Palo Alto First Ward who was baptized last November. After that, we hopped down to Corina to see Leslie, and that is when we scheduled the appoint for tomorrow.
I am having some mixed feelings. As I said, I am ready for the next battlefield, yet there is a small part of me that actually wants to stay here in Palo Alto. I want to see where the discussions go with Leslie, but outside of that I am truly ready to move on.
While on a mission tour in Latin America in 1968, then-Elder Spencer W. Kimball gave a rather stern talk to a group of missionaries. In addition to counseling the missionaries to lock their hearts, Elder Kimball said that at some point missionaries need to speak up when they see other missionaries breaking the rules. "This is not the program," they might say, or "This is my mission, too." There was a time early in my mission when I wish that I had spoken up.
One of the rules of my mission prohibited exercising with free weights, which, it turns out, quite a few missionaries wanted to do. One elder, who hoped to play football at BYU after his mission, wrote to then-head coach Lavell Edwards and asked for a letter that he could show the mission president on the importance of weight training. Coach Edwards wrote back to say that the elder should obey all mission rules, including the one against the use of free weights. I do not know why my mission president instituted this rule when he took over the mission, but, then, I did not need to know.
While I was still in my first area, at least two of my apartment mates were among those elders who didn't like the weightlifting rule. A member, who lived close to our apartment, had a home gym and invited us to use it whenever we wanted. One night, the other three elders decided that they were going to start going to this home gym every night after our 9:30 check in call.
They also decided that I would be the one to make the phone call to the zone leaders to report that we were in for the night – one of our zone leaders was also acting as our district leader at this time. There is a tradition in the U.S. Navy of having the most junior officer in the wardroom do the menial, even dirty, tasks. The other officers will say “Let George do it,” George being the nickname for the junior officer. Well, in this case at least, I was George.
So, I made the call and then we all went over to the member’s home gym. I went only because I could not be at the apartment alone -- well, maybe I could have, except that my older RM brother had advised me, just before I got on the airplane, to never leave my companion. Unbeknownst to us, while we were out the zone leaders had called back, and when we got back to the apartment they were there waiting for us. While I believed I was in a position where I had had little choice, I still had to admit to the zone leaders that I had lied.
Did I have a choice? Well, of course, we always have a choice. My problem was that, for several reasons, I did not have much confidence. I was allowing myself to feel intimidated by other elders just because they had been out longer than I had been. I had a rough time with my MTC companion, and when I got to my first area was in a mood to be more cautious, so I became even more introverted, which caused problems with my trainer. When my third companion and our two flat mates wanted to go to the home gym after we were supposed to be in for the night, I believed there was nothing I could do to stop them.
Not long after this I had a conversation with one of my zone leaders, I think he knew that things had not been going well for me. I told him how I felt, that I was discouraged and had a confidence problem. I said that I had come into the mission field with an inferiority complex because I had grown up with heavy persecution in school, in the neighborhood, and even at home. I said that I didn’t know who I was. My zone leader told me that he, too, had faced a lot of persecution, and that everyone comes out not knowing who they are. He said the best thing I could do is share my feelings with others, particularly my companion. He said that I would learn more just talking about myself with them.
We then went out into the living room to join my companion and the other zone leader, and I told them what I had just told the first zone leader. The three elders made some comments, presented some good ideas, and even paid me some compliments.
Two weeks later we had a zone conference, and during the afternoon testimony session, I got up to speak. I started by reading 1 Nephi 3:7, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”
Then I turned to Helaman 10:4-5, “Blessed art thou, Nephi, for those things which thou hast done; for I have beheld how thou hast with unwearyingness declared the word, which I have given unto thee, unto this people. And thou has not feared them, and hast not sought thine own life, but hast sought my will, and to keep my commandments. And now, because thou hast done this with such unwearyingness, behold, I will bless thee forever; and I will make thee mighty in word and in deed, in faith and in works; yea, even that all things shall be done unto thee according to thy word, for thou shalt not ask that which is contrary to my will.”
I then said that I had committed with myself, before coming out, to live the mission rules. In the MTC that had been easy, but when I got out in the mission field I was timid of what others might think, so I had not been diligent in keeping my commitment and I considered that to be a transgression. I blamed myself for the lack of anything going on in the area I was assigned to. I apologized to the mission president and then committed with him to live the mission rules. I said that it did not matter to me what others thought because I knew that I would be blessed in the long run.
Nonetheless, I was worried that some of the missionaries might think I was brown-nosing. Instead, most of the elders told me that saying what I did required guts. My flat-mates said I did a good job, and the mission president thanked me and said that he knew I would hang in there.
--
Here is a link to the full text of Spencer W. Kimball's talk, "Lock Your Heart":
http://laytreasuresinheaven.com/lock-your-heart-spencer-w-kimball/
April 27, 1988
Can you believe April is over already? Almost 4 months of my mission is behind me -- time really flies. But the work is going just as slow as usual.
Not much happened on Thursday. It rained again on Friday, but in the afternoon we made it out to the library, the bank, the Stanford clinic, and the Stanford bookstore.
On Saturday, I had the opportunity of observing Elder Lima teach a first discussion in Chinese. I know it went well because I felt the spirit. In the afternoon, Lima and I went checking on referrals. We also stopped by to see Leslie who is doing well. She seems very interested in the Book of Mormon. If we can baptize her, maybe we can baptize her whole family; the situation looks good.
On Sunday there was a regional conference in Maples Pavilion on the Stanford campus. President Thomas S. Monson, Elder Joseph E. Wirthlin and Elder Ted E. Brewerton spoke to us. It was a great meeting.
I saw Elder Golf today at the conference and paid him back the money he lent me for pizza. He is now with Elder Delta who came out with me. Golf recently had another bike accident, and this one was worse than the first one. It seems that he was following Delta when he blacked out. The next thing he knew he was laying on the ground with a lot of scrapes and bruises. Ouch. On the other hand, he and Delta are having success down there in Santa Clara.
In the afternoon I went with Elder Lima to a baptism. The zone leaders were baptizing a Stanford student; it was very inspirational.
On Monday I went out with Elder Able. We did follow-up in the morning and tracted a street in the afternoon.
Tuesday was the day that transfer calls went out. The four of us in the flat sat around that morning talking, and after some discussion, we decided that it would be a good idea to put Lima and I together in the Palo Alto First Ward and Lake and Able in the Palo Alto Second Ward; in other words, we wanted to switch companions. Lake and Able get a long better and Lima and I do as well. Then we had the brilliant idea to call President Douglas and suggest this arrangement to him.
The absurdity should be obvious. Transfer call day is the busiest day of the month at the mission office, very nerve racking. So it would make sense for the mission president to be more than a little edgy. He was, and he chewed out Lake and Able and then hung up on Lake.
Later, when the actual transfer call came, we learned that no one was being moved. So I am to be stuck here at least another month.
Shortly after the call, the zone leaders came down for a chat. It was a rather big discussion about rules and calling the mission president on transfer call day. Another big issue was weightlifting, which some of the other missionaries want to do, but which is against the mission rules. We also found out that Elder Whopper is our new district leader.
Speaking of weightlifting, a member of the Palo Alto First Ward, who lives close to our apartment, has a home gym and invited us to use it whenever we wanted. One night, recently, Lima, Able and Lake decided that they were going to start going to this home gym every night after our 9:30 check in call.
They also decided that I would be the one to make the phone call to the zone leaders to report that we were in for the night. So, on this particular night, I made the call and then we all went over to the member’s home gym. I went only because I could not be at the apartment alone.
Unbeknownst to us, while we were out, the zone leaders called back, and when we got back to the apartment they were there waiting for us. While I believed I was in a position where I had had little choice, I still had to admit to Elder Baker that I had lied. Then, of course, we also got a lecture on obeying mission rules.
It's been a crazy week, but otherwise, all is well here.
--
May 5, 1988
On Thursday and Friday we had to deal with a clogged kitchen sink. In fact, on Friday morning we woke up to find that the sink had backed up, leaving us a nice mess to clean.
On Friday, the zone leaders came down for another chat. Elder Baker talked with Elder Lake and then sat down with me; I guess he knew that things haven’t been too great with me. I told him how I felt, that I was discouraged and had a confidence problem. I said that I had come into the mission field with an inferiority complex because I had grown up with heavy persecution in school and in the neighborhood, and even at home. I said that I didn’t know who I was.
Baker said that he had faced a lot of persecution, too, and that everyone comes out not knowing who they are. He said that the best thing I could do is share my feelings with others, particularly my companion. He said that I would learn more just talking about myself with them.
After that we went out to the living room and talked with Lake and Elder Beach. We had a good discussion, particularly Baker and I, and we learned a lot about each other as I repeated what I had told Baker. Lake, Baker and Beach each made some comments, presented some good ideas, and even paid me some compliments. They said I have a good jump shot, and if I have enough time I usually make it. Baker also complimented my mind; he said I was a good thinker and had a good memory. I didn’t think anybody noticed such things. I also found out Baker is a photographer like me.
Baker then told me something about his previous companion, Elder Sierra. When he came out, Sierra was extremely shy and during his two month training period probably said no more than five words. But Sierra set a goal to change and did a lot of soul searching. Sierra is now an assistant to the president.
On Saturday, Elder Lake went down to the mission office with Elder Lima for an interview with President Douglas. When they came back they said that President Douglas now has a better understanding of the situation. They also said that I should be leaving the next transfer for sure. Also, Lima will be going to the office to replace Elder Studebaker who is going home soon. President Douglas is thinking about leaving only two elders to cover both of the Palo Alto wards, but it is not definite yet.
On Tuesday, President Douglas spoke with Elder Whopper at the monthly leadership meeting. Later in the day, Whopper told me that he is going to try and get me teaching on team-ups so I can get some experience. The sentiment is great, but it is not the experience that is important. I’m not sure how much it will help my confidence to teach someone else’s investigators.
On Tuesday night, Elder Able and I had a discussion about mission rules. I remained firm in my position about living the rules. He said that he doesn’t care much about “our” rules because they are not “his” rules. In the Fresno mission he was allowed to do some things, like weightlifting, that he is not allowed to do here in the San Jose mission.
On Wednesday morning, we played some basketball with the zone leaders and the Menlo Park elders, followed by some football in the afternoon. A couple of months ago, when we played some football up at Woodland Hills, I couldn't catch the ball to save my life; today I made a few catches, which means that I am getting better.
We were in for some big surprises when we got back to the flat. Instead of finding Elder Lima waiting for us with Elder Able, we found an Elder Milo. Lima had been transferred to the office to get some training from Studebaker before he goes home.
But wait, there’s more. At first Elder Lake and I were going to be moved over to cover the Palo Alto First Ward. After our zone meeting tonight, however, Lake risked calling President Douglas to suggest that he and Able take the First Ward while making Milo my companion. President Douglas agreed to this arrangement, probably because it was a little less radical than swapping wards.
So, I've got another new companion! Milo is going home to Shreveport, Louisiana in three weeks -- on the twenty-fifth -- less than twenty days, really. I am beginning to feel like the mission orphan, like no one wants me. I am getting juggled around like crazy, in the same apartment, in the same ward.
I am badly discouraged and things do not look to be getting better. One year ago I started attending missionary prep, so I had eight months of prep and now I have been out four months. I have yet to teach a real discussion to a real investigator, and I am certainly not actively teaching anyone anything. I’m foundering as if I have gone aground on a coral reef.
Well, that's about all that is going on out here.
--
As it would turn out, my new companion would be a breath of fresh air, and the change was probably one of the best things that could have happened.
One particular Friday, early in my
mission, I got a phone call from the mission office. Well, the caller
claimed he was in the mission office, but I was pretty sure it was another
elder in the district who had covered the phone's mouthpiece with some
tissue to disguise his voice. The caller said I was in for "subline
transfer," whatever that meant. I asked my companion, who had been with
me for a couple of weeks, what a subline transfer was and he said it
was a special transfer. So why not just call it a special transfer?
In any case, the caller said they were
going to pick me up at 9:00 p.m. on Monday and they would take me to
Seaside apartment, wherever that was -- and why so late? I was pretty sure that this was a
joke, but the term "subline" made it sound official. If it wasn't real
I would end up packing for nothing, but if it was real, and I didn't
pack. . . . A real Catch 22.
On Sunday evening, when my companion and
I got back from our ward meetings, one of the other elders in the
apartment said that the mission president had called. Now it was the both of us,
according to him, who were now being transferred. I thought I could trust
this elder because we had been in the same apartment for the past two
and a half months, were from the same hometown, and because we got along well
together. That clinched it for me and I started packing.
About an hour later, the other two
elders in the district stopped by our apartment. When they heard that I
was packing they started laughing. They said that it was all a joke,
and that they had made up the term "subline transfer." I had been had.
After unpacking I sat on the edge of my
bed and sulked. I could hear the other elders laughing out in the
living room. That's when it hit me that I had been taking things too
seriously, not just the joke, but a lot of the comments made by other
elders. It occurred to me that I had a choice; I could sit there and
feel sorry for myself, or I could lighten up. I went out to the living
room, admitted that they had gotten me, and then I laughed with them.
As I laughed I felt as if a great weight has been lifted off my
shoulders.
When you get a bunch of 19-20 year old
kids together -- let's face it, that's what we were -- you can expect
some practical jokes and other hijinks. One pair of elders were
wrestling in their apartment one day and broke their couch. In another
apartment, in another area, my flat mates decided to have a water
fighter one evening -- inside the apartment! While I chose not to
participate, I still had to have a sense of humor about it.
One of the
most important pieces of survival equipment for a mission, and life in
general, is a sense of humor. If you can laugh at things that otherwise
might worry you or cause you stress, then life becomes more enjoyable. With that said, however, there are some comments and some jokes that can cross the line -- like ruining someone's lunch with a ton of cayenne pepper or licking a co-worker's mouse (yes, I have heard of such a thing happening), whereas putting some tape over the optical eye of the mouse is hillarious.
About two and a half weeks after the
subline transfer joke, there was a real special transfer. The
elder who was from the same hometown, was transferred
to the office and a new elder was transferred in. With the change we
asked permission to make other changes, switching the companionships
around with the result that the new elder coming in was now my
companion. This switch ended up being one of the best things to happen
to me on my mission.
Three weeks later I was transferred to a
new area. The ward I was assigned to was called the Carmel Ward even
though it was actually in a town called Seaside, which was sandwiched
between Monterey and Fort Ord, a military base long since closed. While
most of the ward was in Seaside, there was a rural area called Carmel
Valley that was also part of the ward, and that is how it got its name.
Carmel by the Sea was actually part of the Pacific Grove Ward. So,
ironically, I ended up in Seaside apartment anyway.
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