Watching the snow drift by outside the fifth story window by my desk, I thought about how much my situation has changed over the last few weeks, yet, at the same time, how similar it is.
Taiwan will never feel the strange sensation of a winter snowfall, the gentle softness accompanied by the familiar bitter chill, and Utah will never feel the strange, mist-like rain that pervades the streets on Taipei. Christmas time is fast approaching, as made clear by the quiet echoes of age-old carols rebounding around the office, just loud enough that I'm able to pick out the familiar tunes. In Taiwan, no doubt, Christmas is only a passing thought, an image out the window of the speeding train known as time as it makes its way to the much anticipated destination of Chinese New Year.
Still, the work goes on. The work of a missionary is endless in more ways than one. Some days, as we deal with seemingly thousands of pranks and try desperately to help others to understand that nothing can help improve their lives more than the gospel, certainly feel endless - that's for sure. However, when the other 'endless' aspect of our role is considered, this seems like a small price to pay.
An old proverb says, "You can count the number of seeds in an apple, but you can't count the number of apples in a seed." As missionaries, it is our role to plant seeds of faith in the hearts of those who approach us. Sometimes, the soil of their hearts is hard, cracked, and dusty. Sometimes, it hasn't seen the rain of hope or the sunshine of faith for countless years. In Jacob 5:19-22, in the allegory of the olive trees, the Lord of the vineyard shows to his servant that sometimes, even trees planted in a poor spot of ground bring forth much fruit.
Like Zenos, we are servants of the Lord of the vineyard. Sometimes, those investigators who begin in the poorest spots of ground bring forth the most fruit. Sometimes they don't. Only the Lord knows; we have to trust in Him, and do what He prompts us to do. Only then will we, and more importantly, those we teach, start to see the fruit. When we, like Lehi in 1 Nephi 8:12, partake of this fruit - the fruit of the gospel of Jesus Christ - we will be "filled [...] with exceedingly great joy," for this fruit is desirable above all other fruit.
I know that the only way we can experience this great joy - this happiness in its purest form - is through the gospel. When we follow Jesus Christ's example and live His commandments, the gaps in our lives can be filled. We can know, without a doubt, who we are - that we are children of our Heavenly Father. We can press forward in faith, knowing that He leads the way. As we watch the seasons slowly turn again to winter, and the snow begin to fall, we can know that we are doing our part in His plan for us. We can live with the confidence that can only be brought by an absolute knowledge that through our actions, we will live with Him again.
Taiwan will never feel the strange sensation of a winter snowfall, the gentle softness accompanied by the familiar bitter chill, and Utah will never feel the strange, mist-like rain that pervades the streets on Taipei. Christmas time is fast approaching, as made clear by the quiet echoes of age-old carols rebounding around the office, just loud enough that I'm able to pick out the familiar tunes. In Taiwan, no doubt, Christmas is only a passing thought, an image out the window of the speeding train known as time as it makes its way to the much anticipated destination of Chinese New Year.
Still, the work goes on. The work of a missionary is endless in more ways than one. Some days, as we deal with seemingly thousands of pranks and try desperately to help others to understand that nothing can help improve their lives more than the gospel, certainly feel endless - that's for sure. However, when the other 'endless' aspect of our role is considered, this seems like a small price to pay.
An old proverb says, "You can count the number of seeds in an apple, but you can't count the number of apples in a seed." As missionaries, it is our role to plant seeds of faith in the hearts of those who approach us. Sometimes, the soil of their hearts is hard, cracked, and dusty. Sometimes, it hasn't seen the rain of hope or the sunshine of faith for countless years. In Jacob 5:19-22, in the allegory of the olive trees, the Lord of the vineyard shows to his servant that sometimes, even trees planted in a poor spot of ground bring forth much fruit.
Like Zenos, we are servants of the Lord of the vineyard. Sometimes, those investigators who begin in the poorest spots of ground bring forth the most fruit. Sometimes they don't. Only the Lord knows; we have to trust in Him, and do what He prompts us to do. Only then will we, and more importantly, those we teach, start to see the fruit. When we, like Lehi in 1 Nephi 8:12, partake of this fruit - the fruit of the gospel of Jesus Christ - we will be "filled [...] with exceedingly great joy," for this fruit is desirable above all other fruit.
I know that the only way we can experience this great joy - this happiness in its purest form - is through the gospel. When we follow Jesus Christ's example and live His commandments, the gaps in our lives can be filled. We can know, without a doubt, who we are - that we are children of our Heavenly Father. We can press forward in faith, knowing that He leads the way. As we watch the seasons slowly turn again to winter, and the snow begin to fall, we can know that we are doing our part in His plan for us. We can live with the confidence that can only be brought by an absolute knowledge that through our actions, we will live with Him again.
The mail system used here in the Referral Center has a feature called "importance." Whenever a new message arrives, it calculates the importance of that message based on the guidelines you have set.
I recently noticed that, despite me never having changed the importance guidelines, all the messages from my family were marked as "important." I considered for a moment changing the filtering rules. After all, from a missionary perspective, family messages are anything but important. There are much more significant things that have to be considered - messages regarding weekly reports, the status of those we are teaching, projects we're developing, and information regarding teaching appointments.
Then I thought about my family, and families in general. As we often state to those on Chat, we believe that families are ordained of God, and a vital part of His Plan of Salvation for all of us. We are never closer to Him than we are when we are with our families. As the children's song goes, "Home can be a Heaven on Earth." Without my family, there's no way I would be out here, teaching others about the gospel, at all. Someone had to teach it to me first. I thought about how grateful I am for all of the support they give me - for the financial help covering mission expenses, for the weekly letters and packages, and for the kind words after a long day without any success.
I decided to keep the importance settings the way they were.
I recently noticed that, despite me never having changed the importance guidelines, all the messages from my family were marked as "important." I considered for a moment changing the filtering rules. After all, from a missionary perspective, family messages are anything but important. There are much more significant things that have to be considered - messages regarding weekly reports, the status of those we are teaching, projects we're developing, and information regarding teaching appointments.
Then I thought about my family, and families in general. As we often state to those on Chat, we believe that families are ordained of God, and a vital part of His Plan of Salvation for all of us. We are never closer to Him than we are when we are with our families. As the children's song goes, "Home can be a Heaven on Earth." Without my family, there's no way I would be out here, teaching others about the gospel, at all. Someone had to teach it to me first. I thought about how grateful I am for all of the support they give me - for the financial help covering mission expenses, for the weekly letters and packages, and for the kind words after a long day without any success.
I decided to keep the importance settings the way they were.
It was about a week ago that I arrived in the Referral Center. It wasn't quite what I expected, but I guess considering I had very few expectations to begin with the only thing that really could be expected was that my expectations wouldn't be close to actuality by any sense of the word. With all of this unexpectedness, there was only one thing that I knew for sure: this was apparently where the Lord needed me, so this was where I needed to serve.
Our job as missionaries, of course, is to answer questions people may have about our religion, deal with those who for whatever reason have some issue with our beliefs so gargantuan that they feel it a worthy use of their time to rant at us, and, ultimately, teach people about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, allowing them to become closer to Him, taking the steps necessary to obtain their eternal salvation. An important job? Possibly. It depends on who you ask. An interesting job? At times. A difficult job? Undoubtedly.
My previous assignment, the Taipei, Taiwan mission, had about 170 missionaries, and covered around 5000 square miles. My current mission has nine missionaries, and covers the entire earth. Without the internet, such a task would be completely impossible. With the internet, it's only improbable. Every day we deal with both the best and the worst the internet has to offer, ranging from the typical trolls here to do whatever it is trolls do, to ministers of other religions preaching hellfire and damnation upon us, to those who have genuine interest and become, in many cases, some of the best members in the church.
We're an elite team - some of the best the church has to offer. We give up two years to do this work in hope that somehow we will be able to show the world that the truth isn't just out there - it's right there. All they have to do is reach out and grab it.
My name is Elder Hafen, and this is my chronicle of life as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints serving in the Provo, MTC Referral Center. Hang on to your hats, because things are going to move fast.
Our job as missionaries, of course, is to answer questions people may have about our religion, deal with those who for whatever reason have some issue with our beliefs so gargantuan that they feel it a worthy use of their time to rant at us, and, ultimately, teach people about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, allowing them to become closer to Him, taking the steps necessary to obtain their eternal salvation. An important job? Possibly. It depends on who you ask. An interesting job? At times. A difficult job? Undoubtedly.
My previous assignment, the Taipei, Taiwan mission, had about 170 missionaries, and covered around 5000 square miles. My current mission has nine missionaries, and covers the entire earth. Without the internet, such a task would be completely impossible. With the internet, it's only improbable. Every day we deal with both the best and the worst the internet has to offer, ranging from the typical trolls here to do whatever it is trolls do, to ministers of other religions preaching hellfire and damnation upon us, to those who have genuine interest and become, in many cases, some of the best members in the church.
We're an elite team - some of the best the church has to offer. We give up two years to do this work in hope that somehow we will be able to show the world that the truth isn't just out there - it's right there. All they have to do is reach out and grab it.
My name is Elder Hafen, and this is my chronicle of life as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints serving in the Provo, MTC Referral Center. Hang on to your hats, because things are going to move fast.