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.
April 13, 1988
We tracted on Thursday and Friday without much success. Sunday was church as usual, then dinner with the ward mission leader's family.
On Monday, my companion bought a copy of Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People. He is hoping to get some ideas on how to work with members.
In the afternoon we had our interviews with President Douglas. We had to ride all the way down to Middlefield chapel which is near the south end of our area. On the way I had a small accident but suffered no injury or damage to my bike or pants or anything else. We were hopping onto the side walk on the left side of the street; I went too wide and my front tire was on the grass. I tried to get it back up onto the sidewalk, but there was a bit of a lip and I toppled over instead.
In my interview with President Douglas I said that I was really discouraged. He said that he knew Palo Alto was a rough area to start in, but he was sure things would pick up. He was just so positive that it couldn’t help but rub off on me, at least for a while.
On Tuesday we went over to Stanford again with Elders Whopper and November. We went to the memorial church and while we were there a man asked me if we were Mormons. He said that he had a friend who was looking for us. We gave him our address and phone number.
We played basketball this morning and touch football in the afternoon.
This evening, we showed the video Our Heavenly Fathers Plan to a less-active member. She wants to become active but just can’t seem to do it. We did, however, commit her to bring up the video to her neighbors.
Sorry, but it wasn't an eventful week.
--
April 20, 1988
We have been getting a lot of rain here, lately. This has been good as the water has been needed. There has been talk of water rationing, so every drop of rain helps. It rained cats and dogs on Thursday, so we did not get much work done.
On Friday, I drove the elder transferred in from the Fresno mission, Elder Able, up to his radiation treatment at the Stanford Medical Center. After that we went on team-ups -- actually, I was with Elder Able as he did a lot of shopping on University Avenue. In the evening, I followed Elder Able on my bike as he went for a run.
On Saturday morning, we had a district breakfast and study at the zone leaders' flat. It was a good morning. But then, the rest of the day, we did more shopping. You have some interesting experiences on a mission. I love going into stores in a shirt and tie; it doesn’t take very long before someone approaches you and starts asking questions about the merchandise. “I’m sorry,” you say, “I don’t work here.” My personal record is four times in the same store.
One reason we did so little on Saturday was that it started raining again in the afternoon. It was a hard rain, too. Riding bikes in that kind of weather seems like a bad idea.
When I talked with President Douglas last week, I told him how discouraged I was with how slow things were going here. He said that he felt things would get better in the next week. Unfortunately, with the exception of the stake presidency, the bishopric and the ward mission leader, it does not seem that many people in this area are excited about missionary work.
At the same time, I feel like I am getting a lot of verbal abuse from the elders in this district. Elder Able is particularly good at dishing out this kind of abuse. During team-ups yesterday he just about drove me up the wall. His verbal shots were incredible; I tried to counter with something but that just made things worse.
Then I was the victim of a practical joke. On Friday we received a couple of phone calls from the mission office. Actually, while the person on the other end of the line said they were calling from the office, I think it was really Elder November talking through tissue paper. Whoever it was, they said that I was in for a sub-line, or special transfer.
I figured it was a joke but I was not 100 percent positive. Anyway, they said that they would be here at 9:00 p.m. on Monday to pick me up (why so late?). Here was the dilemma: If it wasn’t real I would be packing for nothing and falling for the joke. But if it was real and I didn’t pack. . . . It was a no win situation, a real catch-22. One reason I thought it was a joke was how little information they gave. The only thing they said was that I would be going to Seaside Apartment. Where is that? I was awfully nervous because the set up seemed almost too good.
When we got home from church on Sunday – we had to bike it all the way down to Middlefield chapel because the ward mission leader, who usually drives us to church, was out of town. Anyway, when we got home, Elder Lima said that President Douglas had called to say that both of us were being transferred. That seemed to confirm it all for me, so I started packing. A little later Elders Whopper and November dropped by our apartment. When they saw that I had started packing they laughed and said it was all a joke and sub-line transfer was a made up term. I had been had.
At first I sat in my room and sulked, but then I realized that I have been taking everything – all the verbal abuse and the jokes – too seriously. I decided that I had to lighten up and so I changed my attitude. I went out to the living room and laughed a long with everybody else. It seemed as though a great weight was lifted off my shoulders.
On Monday evening, we had dinner with the ward mission leader's family, after which we watched a local broadcast of the church video Our Heavenly Father's Plan. The ward mission leader had even invited a neighbor to join us.
It rained again on Tuesday, so naturally we ended up going shopping. This morning we played some b-ball, and then some football in the afternoon.
Transfers are next Wednesday (so soon?) and Elder Lima thinks that I will be leaving -- he was right about Fox and Golf last transfer. To be honest, I'm ready for a change, but if the Lord wants me to stay here a little while longer, I will. I am still discouraged, but I have been asking myself how much I have learned here. The answer is, a lot.
March 30, 1988
On Thursday, we gave a short Book of Mormon presentation to Leslie down on Corina. Unfortunately, we did not have a marked copy of the Book of Mormon with us, so we will have to drop one by tomorrow. I don’t know why we went all the way down there only to give her a short presentation instead of taking a little bit longer and teaching the first discussion.
On Friday, we tried to see one contact, but he was not at home. Transfers are next week, and my trainer is convinced that he is out of here. I guess that explains why the work has fallen off.
The Menlo Park Stake had its conference this weekend. After the adult session on Saturday night, our ward mission leader, as he was driving us home, said that he wanted to take us out for pie. As we were trying to think of a place to go for pie, our WML said that he had been craving Chinese food all night, then he mentioned a place called Chinese Delight, which he said his car automatically goes to everyday, and then he goes from there. Moments later we were pulling into the parking lot and we all said "What the heck, let's do it."
Earlier in the day, Elder Golf and I rode all over our area -- some elders, a long time ago, divided the area into five subdivisions, and we went to all five -- dropping off thank you notes and trying to see contacts. Additionally, we hopped the zone boundary to visit Golf's aunt in Mountain View.
On Sunday, we had the general session of stake conference at the Menlo Park chapel. President Douglas was in attendance and was asked to bear his testimony. Afterward we attended a baptism for a family of five. The lucky missionaries were Elders Victor and November. The whole thing was beautiful and the spirit was so strong. It fired me up so that I can’t wait until my first baptism, even more than before. That strengthened my determination to work hard.
This area has been dead since October. Golf and I have not worked very hard these past two months. I wonder how hard he worked with his previous companions. If we had worked harder and given it our all, while living the mission rules, we might have had success. But we did not give it our all and our Father in Heaven did not give us all his blessings. If Golf is transferred, I hope my new companion will be a hard worker, one that will give his all so that we can breathe life back into this area.
On Monday morning, Elders Golf and Lima had a minor bike accident. They were riding down Hamilton Avenue, which parallels University Avenue, when they saw two guys point at them and start running after them. Golf and Lima sped up to make their escape by turning right onto Hale Avenue. Golf was in the lead and was hugging the curb; he saw the cause of his demise at the last second.
At the corners of many streets in Palo Alto the sidewalk is flush with the street and underneath is a drainage culvert. Golf saw too late that he had hugged the curb too tightly, he tried to turn away but he was out of room, so he smashed into lip of the sidewalk. His back wheel flipped up and he walked his bike four steps before Lima smashed into him from behind.
Lima had heard the noise of Golf’s collision with the culvert and he thought, “No, he’s not dumb enough to hit that.” Alas, they both fell in a heap, fortunately for Golf, his arm kept his face from hitting the pavement. Neither suffered any major injuries, just bumps and bruises, their bikes, on the other hand, were not so fortunate. Golf's front rim, which struck the culvert head on, was bent inward, a total loss; Lima’s front forks were bent out of shape. As they lay twisted on the ground, a police car pulled up and the officer asked if they were okay. Their pursuers were nowhere in sight.
Meanwhile, back at the flat, I was passing off the fourth discussion to Elder Fox. Elders Victor and November came down later and November and I passed off the fifth and sixth discussions. Tonight we went over to our ward mission leader's home and they invited us to stay for dinner. We earned our keep by teaching family home evening after dinner.
On Tuesday morning, we went to see two of our contacts, Todd and Lloyd, but neither were at home. In the afternoon, I went with Elder Fox to see one of their contacts who had become one of ours with the ward boundary changes. Nicholas had some questions about baptism, as taught in the second discussion; he thinks a lot and seems to be teachable.
Transfer calls came around noon. Elder Golf is finally getting out of here; all week he has been impatient to move on. Elder Fox is going as well; he has been called to be a zone leader in Los Gatos -- couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
Last night my companion got a call from his trainer. I was in the other room, but I could not help but overhear some of what was said. It was no surprise to hear that he was happy to be leaving, but then he said that his last two months here had been a joke. Yeah, that might explain why we haven't been working all that hard. That really got to me, that he would consider my training period to be a joke. I don't think my companion ever really accepted my quiet personality. I love the guy, but what a jerk.
I'm sorry, I never wanted to write negative things about my companions, but, wow! When I wrote in my journal last night, I had been in a mood to be magnanimous. I admit that I am feeling less so today.
For the transfer, we drove Elders Golf and Fox up to Edgewood chapel in Redwood City to meet the transfer van. This mission is small enough geographically that the mission mechanics can pick the elders up at different points in the mission and take them to other points to meet their new companions. Golf and Fox would ride in the van, which was pulling a trailer with their luggage, south to the next zone. My new companion got out of the van after riding south from San Fransisco (the City).
Elder Lima's new companion was not on the transfer van as he is actually being transferred in from the Fresno mission. He was recently diagnosed with cancer and will be getting radiation treatments at the Stanford Medical Center. We took my new comp, Elder Lake [as usual, names have been changed to protect the innocent -- it may have been obvious that I have been using the phonetic alphabet, but I couldn't have two Elder Limas] back to the flat so he could unpack, then we went to get a pizza before returning to Edgewood chapel to pick up Elder Lima's new comp.
When we got the pizza I noticed that Golf had left a note in my wallet reminding me that I still owed him a few bucks from a previous pizza purchase -- I had also found a note in my closet. I was surprised that he hadn't talked to me personally. There were a few times during the last two months that he gave me the "silent treatment"; I guess he wanted to see how I would like it -- it was not a particularly effective approach.
Enough about my trainer. I've got a new comp, who seems like a good guy, and a chance to start over. Life is good.
--
As I wrote a few weeks ago, around Christmas time I got a card from my trainer in which he thanked me for everything he learned during our two months together, and also that we sat together at lunch during the mission Christmas conference. To this day we are still friends. I want to add that, during those two months, he was sick a lot, so the lack of hard work was not all the result of his attitude at the time. After few weeks in his new area he had another bike accident, this time it was because he simply passed out while riding. It appeared that he was dealing with some persistent virus -- like Mono, or something. A few years after my mission I had a case of Mono that left me feeling fatigued for 15 months, so I can imagine what he might have been struggling with.
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April 6, 1988
This has been an interesting week. On Thursday and Friday, we worked hard; we went around and checked on some part-member families, finding almost no one home, so we did some serious phone contacting Friday night. We were able to set up a few appointments.
On Saturday and Sunday, we attended General Conference at the stake center. Sitting in the chapel, dressed in Sunday best, made conference so much more special.
On Monday, we went on team-ups with the elders in Menlo Park -- actually, we went over to the Stanford bookstore before going up to the top of Hoover Tower and then visiting the Memorial Church. We did find someone to chat with about the church, so my new comp is calling it pros-time [proselyting time]. I thought it was a waste.
We had a spiritual experience on Tuesday. When I picked the streets we were going to tract, I prayed that the Spirit would guide me in my choices; I prayed that I would pick the streets that Heavenly Father wanted me to pick, a street where one of his sheep was ready for us to stop by. After much prayer and consideration, I picked two streets and we headed out the door.
We stopped at the first street I had picked and locked up our bikes. There was no interest at the first door, no one home at the second, but at the third this teenage girl answered. Elder Lake gave the approach, "We're sharing a message about Jesus Christ today and if you have 15-20 minutes, we were wondering if we could come in and share that message with you?" The girl replied, "Uh . . . yeah . . . I guess."
So in we went, and we taught most of the first discussion. We talked mainly about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith. The girl seemed to be interested in what we had to say, but she said that she would have to talk to her parents about it first. We had a closing prayer and gave her a pamphlet dealing with our Heavenly Father's plan for us, as well as a copy of the Book of Mormon.
We finished tracting that street, but no one else who was at home was interested. We then went back to the flat for lunch. But that is the only way to tract, by the Spirit.
After lunch, we went to see Leslie down on Corina. We talked with her and gave her (finally!) a copy of the Book of Mormon. Then we went and tracted the second street I had picked that morning. That street didn't turn out as well as the first; we ran into a born-again Christian and had a near-bashing situation. After that we went to see Lloyd; he was at home and we were able to commit him to hearing a discussion of Friday. Things may be looking up.
This morning we went and played basketball at the stake center. We had a few serious, physical games; I ended up on the floor a few times and banged up my left leg a bit. After basketball, we went over to the Menlo Park apartment with Elders Whopper and November. As we were sitting around, talking, there was a knock on the door. Some J-dubs had knocked on the landlord's door, and he brought them back to chat with us.
At first, we pretended to be Stanford students -- we were still in our sweats and street clothes. One of the other three elders, as part of our pretending, asked if they were Mormons; they said that they were not, of course, and then proceeded to rip on the church. They said that Mormons believed that Jesus was God and that Mormons believed in the Holy Trinity; they also said that Mormons did not believe in the Bible.
Going along with the ruse, for the moment, I pretended that I had talked with some Mormon missionaries recently and said that they had told me that they believed in God the Father, the Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost. One of them interrupted me to say that Mormons believed no such thing and, in any case, God and the Holy Ghost are one and the same.
It was at this point that we confessed that we were, in fact, Mormon missionaries. I said that just yesterday, we had been out tracting and that I had had my Bible with me. The J-dubs said again that we didn't believe in the Bible. I picked up a copy of the Bible from a nearby table and turned to John 15:26:
"But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me."
One of the J-dubs, likely the senior of the two, countered by saying that God and the Holy Ghost are the same person and that the Spirit is only the force used by God. I flipped back to John 14:26:
"But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you" (emphasis added).
"Whom" would denote a separate person. The J-dub pulled our her New World Translation, which changed "whom" to "which". Now, I wasn't trying to bash, just present a scripture to support my beliefs [that's what I told myself, anyway]. I was trying to steer the discussion into the Joseph Smith story, but darn if they didn't keep on interrupting me. The other three elders, my comp included, were no help -- they were trying to bash.
A discussion of competing translations got us briefly back to John 14:26, but from there all control was lost. The senior J-dub continued to tell me that we didn't believe in the Bible, so I turned the copy I was holding so that she could see the spine, "See, The Holy Bible, King James Version." I said it three times!
Eventually, the J-dubs decided to leave, and as they did so they parted with: "When the day of destruction arrives and Jehovah is come, and you are destroyed, just remember, we warned you!" I shot right back, "And you just remember, we warned you." Sorry, I couldn't resist.
Then they ran into the landlord, who said to them that he once looked into the J-dub faith. Well, that got a reaction as they quickly condemned him to hell!
The whole experience was rather educational. First, there is just no talking to J-dubs and, second, love and sincerity is where it is at. Their whole attitude and approach were completely wrong, calling us to repentance and telling us over and over that we did not believe what we said we believed. That's just not how you spread a message, whether you're a J-dub or an LDS missionary [you cannot antagonize and influence at the same time]. Instead, you should use love and sincerity. We do not have the power to prove our words, that is the job of the Holy Ghost (may the Force be with you!). If your message is truly from God, then you have no need to tear down the other person's beliefs.
After all the excitement, the landlord, a member, took the four of us on a drive to San Gregorio Beach, on the Pacific side of the peninsula. I love the ocean.
As I said, it was an interesting week.
