Week 74: November 24, 2014

I figure that sending you my final letter on my final Monday would be fitting. So here it is!

Dear President Harding,

I feel like I placed a quarter in a gumball machine and gave the knob a twist by coming on my mission. I expected what I paid for: 1 gumball—a good experience to look back on that would hopefully help the people I served as much as it would help me. But from the day I set foot in the MTC to this moment, gumballs have poured out much faster than I have been able to catch them. They've filled my hands, my pockets, my shoes, and the guy's hat standing next to me.

I guess that that's lesson number 1: The Lord can take our seemingly insignificant or imperfect offers and turn them into more than enough.

Serving in Narva with Sister Dalley is what seared this truth into my heart. We were both in our fourth transfer and had only served with sisters who were at least 3 transfers ahead of us. It was humbling to realize that Heavenly Father trusted us to take care of a branch that so desperately needed an example of leadership and integrity—two traits that both of us felt far from capable of emulating. There were three girls there (Ksenia, Katya, and Anya) who weren't too much younger than us and the branch looked to us to give them the maturity and self-confidence that came to us through years of participation in the Young Women's program. Besides that, they each came with their specific challenges and I didn't wonder if I was qualified to deal with them—I knew I wasn't.

I can't tell you how many times Sister Dalley and I sat on our couch at the end of the night with heavy hearts feeling like our circumstances required someone much older than 19.

And you know what? Heavenly Father didn't turn me into what I wasn't so I could fit the bill of what it seemed like the branch needed. He took what I already had—a deep and sincere love for Him and for the people—and multiplied it until it was more than enough. Just like the seven baskets leftover after Christ fed the multitude, I know that the love I experienced in Narva is something that I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

Which brings me to lesson number 2: Being a conduit of the love of God is the most important desire that we can have.

I had been sincerely happy before my mission, but I had never imagined the kind of burning joy that comes with being a pure vessel of the love that Heavenly Father has for His children in the Baltics. I remember it hitting me particularly hard on a February night in Narva. Sister Dalley and I trudged through the snow to Sister Valling's apartment for a lesson. That morning, I had the impression to draw our message from 3 Nephi 12:13, which reads (in part), “Verily, verily, I say unto you, I give unto you to be the salt of the earth.”

As she read the scripture out loud, Sister Valling began to cry. Once she had composed herself, she explained to us why it meant so much to her. She and her father were very close when he was alive and he had been the one who named her Marika. They took her home for after she was born and he was filled with a sense of restlessness because he felt that they should have spelt her name differently on the birth certificate. He felt so strongly about it that he went through the trouble of dealing with all of the paperwork to have her name changed legally to Maarika. The extra “a” turned it into an Estonian word that holds special meaning: “salt of the earth”.

I don't know why, exactly, she needed to hear that message that night. I'm not even sure what Heavenly Father communicated to her heart, but what I do know is that the love that I was filled with for her was not something that my own heart was capable of producing. It was divine and perfectly familiar—it was a glimpse of the love that radiates from Heavenly Father.

I felt the same thing in teaching Sasha Gorin, our investigator for the whole time I was there. I don't know if I had ever thought so much or prayed so hard for someone before. I certainly hadn't received such specific revelation as to what I should say on lessons, and especially which questions I should ask. It felt like Heavenly Father wanted Sasha to feel of His presence and love so badly that His desire spilled over into me. I will never forget the moments of clarity that he experienced and the undeniable fact that God knew him and wanted Sasha to know Him, too.

I will spend the rest of my life striving to purify my heart enough to be a dependable conduit of those personally tailored messages that Heavenly Father wants to send to His children. I want to be the equivalent of His note-passer, His courier, His newspaper boy. Whatever way it's delivered, I want the Lord to count on me to listen to His spirit and to pass His love right on down the line.

Heavenly Father gave me a life-changing opportunity to put that to the test when I served in Daugavpils with Sister Roy. There, I learned lesson number 3: by the very eternal nature of our spirits, we have an eternal impact on everything we touch.

I had served in the same MTC district as Sister Roy, so I knew something of the way that she viewed herself and how she tended to doubt herself, but I also knew what a beautiful person she is. So from the beginning of our fifth transfer, a powerful desire to help her see who she really is was planted into my heart. And when I say powerful, I mean it. Raising her confidence was on my mind just as much as the members and our investigators were. I was suddenly aware that each conversation was an opportunity to lift her sights and clear her vision, and I found myself equipped with powerful knowledge that I hadn't had previously. I was able to communicate the beauty of the plan that God has for her in the way that she could understand it and I was given to see her in the way that He sees her. It was like He magnified all of the parts of me that He could to get it through to her what her potential was. I had unwavering confidence that she could reach it, no matter how many set-backs or disappointments she might meet. I was filled then and I am filled now with gratitude for the chance that I got to see those truths take a trip from her head all the way to her heart. She began to reach for things that she'd felt too inadequate for before, to let go of the negative thoughts that weighed her down, and to take control of her direction.

After being apart for two transfers, we were called to serve our last two together in Imanta. It's safe to say that the second time around has been with a completely different person. Because of her new understanding of who she is, the course of her life has changed. And goodness, I don't mean to make it sound like all of that is thanks to me, because it isn't. What I'm trying to say is that throughout the whole process, I was given a clearer view of myself as well. Heavenly Father showed me what I hadn't been able to comprehend before; that our inherent capability of having a positive influence on others goes much deeper and spreads much wider than we can imagine.

I can't really express to you how excited I am to live my life trying to help others see themselves clearly, President. I have found it to be my greatest joy on my mission and it's something that I feel Heavenly Father wants me to be good at. I can't wait to apply it to my parents, my siblings, my friends, whoever I date, random people I meet, and my future family. More than anything, I want to be a force of light and goodness in as many ways as I was created to be.

The majority of miracles in my mission have names attached to them.There's Maarika, Sasha, Tressa, Daniel, Pavel, Egle, Irina, Sergei, Inga, Janna, Anya, Katia, Zhenja, Masha, Evgeni, Inna, Boris, Natalija, Loie, Sadee, Zhana, Sariah, Tatjana, and Galina. In recounting all of them, I've found the common pattern that Heavenly Father obviously wanted me to learn: consistency in showing others who they are in the eyes of their Creator is what I was sent here to do. I met each one of those people at different stages in my mission and they taught me exactly what I needed in order to progress to help the next person.

In pondering how I could possibly sum up how I feel about my mission to you, humility and gratitude have enveloped me completely. 
I just had no idea that God was so good. I had the basic understanding that He wanted me to be happy, but I didn't quite grasp that He literally does everything in His power to make sure that the happiness I feel is the kind that lasts. It seems like He's put me under a magnifying glass and enhanced the good parts of me but also made the weaker parts a lot more visible. He's never once comforted me and made me feel like my flaws are what make me unique, but He has pointed them out to me over and over until I understood that they needed to change and then gave me the power to change them. He's filled me with His love even when I didn't see that I was in the wrong or when I was short-sighted or selfish. He's always known who I can become, but unlike the parent that waits to see their kid cross the finish line, He's been there every step of the race and He will continue to run it with me until our strides match perfectly.

I've run out of cheesy analogies to explain how I'm feeling. All I can say is that I love Him and I love what He's called me to be. I hope that it's clear by the way that I live and the words that I speak that His love has changed me forever. I love you for the love and charity with which you've served me, and I will thank my Heavenly Father in every prayer for who you are to me.

I know who my Father is. I know that He is never discouraged by who we are, by our imperfections or shortcomings. I know that He is the source of all clarity and truth and light, and that through the merits and the mercy of our Brother, Jesus Christ, we can become like Him. I know that Their goal is for us to be happy and to be filled with the enabling power of their love so that they can find kindred spirits when we come to stand before them on that great and last day. I know that the Book of Mormon is a source of real spiritual power that can equip us to meet any challenge. I know that covenants honored are a protection and weapon that we have against anything that opposes the purposes of God. I know that the Atonement of Jesus Christ is enough when we aren't. I have loved my mission in a way that I words can't contain, but that I plan to express through who I am and who I help others become for the rest of my life.

I leave this witness in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Сестра Гуч

Week 73: November 17, 2014

I think that if God were to have a cooking show, the opening montage would be something like this: You see a man peering into his fridge. He takes out a carton of milk and gives it a sniff. It's clear from the way his nose wrinkles that it's sour, so he turns to the trash, steps on the little lever and the lid pops up. Just as the carton drops from his fingertips, God's hand shoots out and grabs it. 

It cuts to a different kitchen--this time it's a kid with his backpack on waiting in front of the toaster. There's a "ding!" and two completely charred pieces of toast leap into the air. They're snatched by God's hand before they come back down. The montage continues, jumping to a college student trying to salvage soggy pizza, a babysitter burning brownies, a father opening the oven to check on the turkey and smoke billowing out. God grabs all of them, and then the title settles across the screen: Water Into Wine.

The ratings would be high even though the recipes wouldn't be replicable because the audience would be enthralled with how He'd make a masterpiece out of spoiled milk and frost-bitten chicken. And it'd be sanitary, of course, because whatever He touches, He cleanses. Furthermore, whatever He cleanses, He makes whole.

Many of you have asked me how I feel as I am nearing the end of my mission and my answer is this: I feel like trashbrowns. 

I feel like a rotten potato that He noticed while passing by a dumpster, picked up, and took back to His kitchen. I imagine that He bypassed the sponges entirely and went straight to work scrubbing the dirt off with steel wool. After that was finished, He rinsed me in cold water until we could both see the bad spots that He'd have to carve out. Unlike most cooking show hosts, He informed me of what was about to happen before He picked up the knife.
"Do you see that spot?" He probably asked.
When I confirmed that spots were just about all I could see, He turned to me again. "What would you like me to do about it?" 

I nudged the knife His way (because I'm a potato, remember? No hands.), squeezed my eyes shut (sometimes potatoes have those) and said, "Do your worst."

And for some reason I was surprised that He actually took me up on that offer. He started grating parts of me that I thought were perfectly fine! And as if the scrubbing and the carving and the grating weren't enough, He threw me into a skillet so hot that I wondered why I couldn't have just rotted peacefully in the confines of the dumpster.
Finally, mercifully, He transferred me to a plate and maybe said something signature like, "Shazam!" (but probably not because God's not cheesy). It wasn't clear until then that He'd made me into hashbrowns--or trashbrowns, as the audience might adoringly refer to me as. 

Does that answer your question?

I think the only other identifiable emotion that I can put my finger on is gratitude. I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed by it, actually. I've thought a lot about my mission over the past few days and I've experienced the same feeling that I get when watching Remember The Titans, but more poignant: there's a lump in my throat and my eyes sting but I'm grinning really wide and taking deep breaths because I know that it's ridiculous to cry.
I just had no idea that God was so good. I've had the basic understanding that He wanted me to be happy, but I didn't quite grasp that He literally does everything in His power to make sure that the happiness I feel is the kind that lasts. He's never once comforted me and made me feel like my flaws are what make me unique, but He has pointed them out to me over and over until I understood that they needed to change and then gave me the power to change them. He's filled me with His love even when I didn't see that I was in the wrong or when I was short-sighted or selfish. He's always known who I can become, but unlike the parent that waits to see their kid cross the finish line, He's been there every step of the race and He will continue to run it with me until our strides match perfectly.

I've run out of cheesy analogies to explain how I'm feeling. All I can say is that I love Him and I love what He's called me to be. I hope that it's clear by the way that I live and the words that I speak that His love has changed me forever.

And I love you, too. My eyes have been opened to how much of an influence you've had on my life and I'm pretty sure I'll thank Him for you in every prayer for the rest of my life. 

С любовью,

Сестра Гуч

P.S. The pictures are 1. of Sister Roy and I at the botanical gardens and 2. of us a few minutes ago in the Russian Orthodox church. It's beautiful inside and priests were chanting and people were bowing and it was cool.

P.P.S. I was able to say goodbye to a bunch of members from Daugavpils since they came up for district conference. It was the highlight of my day/week/transfer.

P.P.P.S. We got to ride a tractor at service this week. I was loving it, as you'll see in the pictures to come.

P.P.P.P.S. You know that I'm still alive, right?

Week 72: November 10, 2014

I might be the only person that this has ever happened to, but I fell asleep on the bus on the way to school when I was in first or second grade. Now I realize that in and of itself isn't rare, but what is exceptional is that I slept right through all of the bustling of the kids around me as they got off the bus. I imagine that they glanced at me as they filed by, probably counting on the kid behind them to inform me of my surroundings. The last kid most likely figured that the bus driver would take care of it, but my 3rd grade seat buddy has no excuses. Aren't situations like the one I was in exactly what seat buddies are for? If I had any illusions that he had my back before, waking up at the bus station an hour later cleared them right up. I guess I was little enough to be hidden by the seat and as soon as I sat up to look around for another living soul, the bus driver saw me. I don't remember how I got back to the school, but what will always stay with me is an inner commitment not to be a 3rd grade jerk and to wake somebody up if they're about to miss the bus stop. 

So here it is: my attempt to do that in the form of this email, just in case you're sleeping.

It seems like any time that I decide to flip through the bible, my eyes land on some unsavory verse about she-bears or cannibals, but this week I opened up right to where Christ is talking in Luke 14. No she-bears, but difficult to swallow all the same. He says, "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, or husband, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. And whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple."

Feels like a punch in the gut, right?

He then goes on to relate a parable that doesn't seem to have any correlation at all with His previous statements. He tells of a man who intends to build a tower but, after laying the foundation, realizes that he doesn't have the sufficient funds to finish it. He hadn't counted the cost beforehand. Verse 33 wraps it up by saying, "So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple". 

I don't know about you, but I felt the same sensation in reading these verses that I feel when I see someone wearing an all plaid sweatsuit, green crocs and a minx scarf. I couldn't pick out the immediate connection between all of it. (Hint: they're Russian.)

But I figured that if Christ uses that strong of language, then I'd better listen up.

I think it's fair to say that here, we can interpret the word "hate" to mean "to have any kind of preference to anyone or anything over Me". When we prioritize even the most important people or things in or lives over Christ, then we aren't worthy to be numbered as one of His disciples. 

He would have put it that simply, I'm sure, if he didn't think that we'd treat it too lightly. They didn't have asterisks, italics, or hashtags in those days, so word choice mattered a little more. And honestly, I'm sure that He knew His listeners all too well; that being a disciple might be something that most of us would have a casual posture towards. Because being a disciple means faithfully doing home/visiting teaching, attending sacrament meeting, and volunteering for the ward potluck, right? That generally doesn't look like casual discipleship on the surface because it requires obvious effort. The only problem is that it's easier to do all of that with your hands than it is to do it with your heart.

The Savior speaks in terms of black and white so that it's impossible for us to misunderstand: He will not have casual disciples. "Casual" and "disciple" are contradictory in their very nature. That's where the parable comes in: a man gets the idea in his head that he'd like to build a tower, and he does the equivalent of laying the foundation of a house without estimating the cost beforehand. Of course that sounds like idiocy to us, but it's suddenly more relatable when we put it into the context of discipleship: as church members, we get used to accepting callings, giving talks, feeling warm and comfortable in the pews at church and feeling the Spirit. We go from week to week trying to stay on top of our responsibilities and doing what is right--building our house as we go. But then something happens (it could be a thousand different things that range from life-shattering to barely noticeable) and we are either taken off guard by it or, more commonly, pacified by it. Whether it's feeling like you don't click with anyone in Relief Society, reading an article that seems to prove the Church's stance on political matters wrong, or going through a divorce, it has a very real potential to weaken your commitment to the Savior. Of course, the opposite is true as well but I want to focus on the subtleties that we often fail to recognize until it's too late and we've forgotten why we needed to be such a "militant" disciple, anyway. 

I think it's fascinating that Christ uses that parable to send us this message: we must count the cost of being a disciple and make a lucid decision as to whether or not we're willing to pay it under any circumstances. If not, we end up signing up for a 5-credit class with the expectation that it'll only require the effort of a 1-credit class. There will be assignments that you didn't anticipate having to fit into your busy schedule and it'll be so much easier to do the bare minimum to just drop out altogether.

But I guess that's the difference between students who go to school for a real education and the ones who go to get a certificate. The latter put in less work and they're rewarded less in return.

It's also interesting that the only price that Christ has named is "all". With the widow and her mite, the young prince and his riches, and the parable of the pearl of great price, He never once uses "some", "half", or "most". He asks for all because He doesn't intend to be a Savior of most of your soul. He gave His all and you are called to follow suit.

Returning to Luke 14, I love the clarification that the Joseph Smith translation provides: "Wherefore, settle this in your hearts, that ye will do the things which I shall teach, and command you." 

He asks us to stop being blindly obedient (if we had ever started) and to make our decision to be His disciples an educated and binding one. It isn't a decision that we make anew each day; it's one that we make once and then give our fiercest loyalty to there-afterwards.

What makes a true disciple is simple: you put your whole heart, might, mind, and strength into becoming more like the Savior and lifting those around you on your way. It's relying and reflecting upon your covenants, regularly seeking inspiration and guidance from the Lord in His temple (always with your spouse, if you can), actively seeking and developing spiritual gifts, and going out of your way to be a conduit for the love of God to those around you. Discipleship permeates every little aspect of life because that's where the Atonement reaches, too.

Elder Klebingat came to Imanta last Tuesday and that ^^ was essentially my take-away. He's really funny and it was awesome to have somebody visit who understands Eastern Europe and was able to instruct us in a way that was more applicable for our area.

I wish I had time to write more but just know that I love you and hope that this week is great!

Love,

Sister Gooch

P.S. The picture is of me like two seconds ago when randomly SVETA NIKOLAEVA FROM NARVA WALKED IN THE ROOM! So glad I got to see her one more time.

Week 71: November 3, 2014

I feel like all of us have the occasion to feel like a pumpkin at times. Most specifically when a hand reaches in and rips out all of your guts. I don't want to compare that gruesome image with how I've felt this week, but here I am, about to shamelessly liken myself to a jack-o-lantern even though Halloween is dead and gone. The only other thing that I could come up to illustrate my point was laxatives, so you can thank your lucky stars that we're sticking with the pumpkin metaphor.

Did you know that pumpkins don't shine? Probably. I mean, obviously. You're intelligent enough to know that you have to cut it into it, scoop out all of the innards (ugh, that word) and then set the candle inside. Whether you set an electric candle inside or one that you have to light yourself, the principle is the same: the pumpkin glows. 

I don't think any of us ever really shine on our own, either. And I'm not just talking about the light of Christ shine that everyone has--I'm talking real, burning light that gives off more than the glow of embers. 

And I don't think any of us would argue that you can't skip the step of scooping out the guts of the pumpkin to make room for the candle. Unless you want a pumpkin that doesn't shine and spoils faster.

Which you don't. And I don't want to be the kind of person who's filled with imperfections and grief, either, because you can't shine with all of that stuff. Shining doesn't come without the ripping--or maybe a nicer word would be cleansing. And vice versa! You can't be cleansed without shining afterwards.

But like I said, I'm not just talking about jack-o-lanterns. I'm telling you about my week. I told you last week (по моему) that I'm trying to give up my desires for His. If you've been thinking of doing the same thing, let me tell you what you can expect:

- An elevated perspective. You'll see more clearly the events that are already behind you and the ones right in front of you. It might make you cringe, but the next point makes it okay.

- The realization that Heavenly Father's vision for you has never changed. He's always seen you as the perfected person that you'll be--even when you missed opportunities or didn't try your hardest. He's not discouraged by who you are, so you probably shouldn't be either.

- He's going to go for the jugular. I don't know how to make that sound soft because it isn't. From the moment that you hand yourself over to Him, He doesn't waste time whacking at branches but goes for the root. He's going to put the weakest parts of your character to the test because they're the ones that need the most strengthening. The Lord loveth those whom He chasteneth.

- He won't necessarily take away your good desires, but He will refine and improve them. He'll make them more specific and realizable. 

- You'll have more peace, especially in moments when it doesn't make sense to feel peaceful.

- You'll stop skipping over the phrase "easy to be entreated" in Alma 7:23. Or maybe that's just me. 

- Clarity of thought in general. You'll see things that you have previously been blind to--the good and the bad.

- You'll know what your standing is with God.

- He'll teach you what you weren't willing to learn before.

- You'll have confidence in what's to come.

- You'll be grateful.

I'm guessing that the outcome of your efforts will be different from mine in a lot of ways, but I suspect that no matter what, there will be a ripping, a cleansing, a sanctifying of the inner vessel. 

C.S. Lewis put it this way: “Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

And this is just week two of handing Him the hammer and telling him to go at it! I can only imagine what a life lived like this would be. 

Probably filled with light. (D&C 50:24, anybody?)

Besides trying to change from the inside out, we've been up to other things this week. 

Last Monday, we cut our preparation day a little short and made soup, bread, and brownies for a member named Tatjana. She hasn't wanted to meet with us because she's always busy taking care of her sister's two grandsons (they all live together). We were nervous to drop it off because a few weeks before, I had explained to her on the phone that we just wanted to stop by for literally a minute and give her dinner and a quick spiritual thought that goes along with the brownies that she can do by herself, but I hadn't finished my sentence before she said, "We have our own food and we're busy!" And a few other things. But either way, we figured that when people say they don't want us to do nice things for them, they don't actually mean it, haha. So it was a surprise, as you can imagine, when she opened up the door and let us come in. She was really grateful and I think it must have made a difference because on Sunday, she let me sit next to her in church and when we were leaving, she came up and gave me a hug. 

It's the little things.

I also went on an exchange with Sister Call, who's in her first transfer. She's Sister Ixtlahuac's trainee and she's the cutest. From somewhere in Utah. We had a cool thing happen to us, though.

It was Halloween and we were on a bus headed home for the night when I sat down next to a guy named Boris. He looked vaguely familiar. I had barely sat down when he turned to me and said, "So I'm guessing that you're not allowed to celebrate Halloween." I suddenly remembered him and had a stupid look on my face when he said, "Yeah, we've talked before." Two months ago, I had been sitting on a bus when a really drunk guy and his friend sat next to me. They were being, well, drunk, so I decided to stand up to get away from them. I ended up standing next to Boris. He talked to me first that time, too. He asked why I don't sit with my companion when everybody knows that we're on the bus together. I only had a stop or two to talk to him but he was a nice guy.

Fast-forward to Halloween and I realized that he's one of the most intellectually curious people I've met. From the beginning, I could tell that he didn't want to discuss religion, so I asked him about the history of Latvia. We live on the same bus stop and so we continued talking for another half hour. I was actually really interested in what he had to say--he loves history and so do I, so it was fascinating (and sad) to hear all about what the people here have gone through and why Russians are the lower class. He's another special person on my mission who made me feel like I came here specifically for him, even though he wasn't necessarily interested in the gospel. After listening to him for a while, I asked him what he thinks about God and religion in general. It was the most natural way I think that I've ever brought up the gospel because I really was interested in what his opinion was, not just interested in making a smooth transition to my message. That led to the most natural explanation of the Restoration that I've ever given, and I walked away from the conversation feeling like it was exactly what Heavenly Father would have wanted to happen. 

Moments of peace like that rarely come to me after talking to someone, so it meant a lot. There's always something to beat yourself up over but I'm learning the value of listening to what Heavenly Father has to say about my efforts more than what I have to say.

And no, people don't really celebrate Halloween here. I think I saw five or six people dressed up but other than that, I was the only one carrying around a pillowcase. 

I love you. Thanks for the prayers and for not forgetting that I exist over here. It means a lot.

С любовью,

Сестра Гуч

P.S. I was fairly serious about you sending me good recipes for Thanksgiving food. Our district is going to celebrate it early so S. Roy, S. Dalley and I can participate in the festivities. It's going to be TURKEY FOR DAYS this year.

P.P.S. Fall is gorgeous here. Obviously.

Week 70: October 27, 2014

I've been feeling a lot of gratitude this week. I don't know where it came from (actually I do), but I've seen Heavenly Father's hand a lot more than usual. Not because He's suddenly more involved in my life, but I'm somehow better at recognizing it.
We were invited to Jurmala (an area about an hour away from Riga) to rake leaves for Valeri, a member in our branch. It's beautiful there, and his house is the most adorable thing. It's yellow with a white picket fence and it's actually the nicest/only house I've been in since coming here. We got there and Valeri told us sisters to get in the kitchen and sent the elders to rake...he's probably the most traditional Russian I've met. But it was funny because once we got inside, he told us that he told us we'd be doing service just to get us there. What we really did was take a tour of his house and conversed pleasantly with him. His house is full of antiques and sweet stuff that he's found on the street and just decided to hang up on the wall. Mom, I thought of how much you'd love it the whole time.
He fed us three courses of delicious food. I think Mike, Beau, and Jared would be especially jealous because it was amazing. I took videos, so you'll see it at some point.
I guess this week was pretty miraculous. In order to fully appreciate it, I'll backtrack to last week. Last Friday, I wrote down a list of my desires. It ranged from things that I want on my mission that are very important to me to unimportant things like wanting a new laptop for school. After looking at my list, I brought it to Heavenly Father and, in essence, said, "Here it is: all of my desires and wishes and, basically, my will. It's yours. In exchange, I want the desires and wishes and will that You want me to have." Looking back, it's kind of funny to me that I didn't expect to see any changes in the work here or anything tangible. I mostly just expected to stop feeling guilty for any distracting thoughts that I've had about plans for the future. But of course! Heavenly Father works by laws, and one of those is that if we are obedient, we recieve blessings. And beyond that, I wasn't just aiming to be obedient. I'm trying to become a true disciple instead of just a missionary.

So, the branch and my area and my companion and the things that I'm studying and the Baltics have been on my mind pretty much 24/7. I don't mean to sound like I've turned into a robot because that's definitely not what thinking about others has turned me into. Weirdly, it's given me a lot more freedom to think about things that matter. And so it's safe to say that I've learned more this week on my mission than any other week. Cool, huh?

Last zone conference, President Harding told us of a time when he was at the airport. He had a bag of his favorite cookies and a newspaper and had decided to sit down and wait for his flight in London. A British woman sat at the same table and, after a few minutes, he heard the crinkling of his cookie bag. Looking over his newspaper, he saw that she had opened his cookies and was eating them unashamedly. He said his first thought was, "Well look at you!" He determined that he was going to take one and show her that it was his bag. So he took one, then she took one, then he took one, and so on until he came to the last cookie. He said that it came time to board his flight and he was thinking of how cheeky that woman was. When he sat down in his seat, he reached for his laptop and instead his hand met a bag of cookies. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he'd eaten the wrong bag of cookies and that he was the cheeky one. He wanted to find the woman and apologize, but it was too late.

He then told us that once we figure out how to do the Lord's work the Lord's way, we would have the same feeling of selfishness and pettiness that he had.

This week, my eyes have been opened and I've had that feeling. My own desires, good and logical though they generally are, have gotten in the way of the Lord's. I wish I had more time to elaborate on that, but it's something that has filled me with a lot of humility and wonder this week.

We were able to teach a girl named Ksenia that the elders found. She's seventeen and my gosh, it always surprises me how much I love the people that I have a chance to teach. I'll hopefully tell you more about her next week.

Sorry it's so short. I love where I'm at and who I'm with and who I am but I miss you and I love you a lot and hope that this week is great!

Love,

Sister Gooch

Week 69: October 20, 2014

Looks like Sister Roy and I will be spending Thanksgiving together! Along with our whole district. Nobody in Imanta moved, which is so happy. I love the people that I'm serving with. As soon as we found out, we divided who's bringing what for Thanksgiving dinner. WE GOT THE BIRD, MA! You should send me a good recipe for turkey, gravy and stuffing. Thanks!
Speaking of which, the pictures are of us at Film Night! I can't remember if I've told you that we have been planning towards it all of last transfer, but it finally was brought to pass on Saturday. We did a photo booth and everybody just ate it up! I was so glad because I was worried that photo booths are just an American thing but everyone who came really enjoyed making a fool out of themselves.
I feel like the Film Night that we had in Daugavpils was a good warmup to what we threw here in Imanta. Everything looked excellent and it was like all the ideas that I had had in Daugavpils but didn't have the resources for were able to be actualized here. We also were able to show Frozen on a projector and everything just looked great. I'll be sending pictures shortly. President Bogdonov requested that we do it again on November 15th. Woo hoo! I'm super proud of it :) 

So I don't mean this in a pompous way, but I haven't ever really been homesick on my mission. That's not to say that I haven't struggled significantly, but I have never felt the sharp desire to not be where I'm at. That's not because I'm a perfectly consecrated missionary (do those exist?) or because there's not much to miss at home: it's because I have felt the love of God more on my mission than any other place. I felt it walking out of Sister Valling's apartment on a February night in Narva, I felt it sitting at Ludmila's kitchen table in Vilnius, I felt it as Inna flipped through her thoroughly marked and beat up Book of Mormon in Daugavpils, and I have felt it every time that I've pled with Him to change the weaknesses that I can't here in Imanta. His love is warm and comfortable, but not in the average sense of those words. It is not the kind of paralyzing comfort and warmth that comes with holding a cup of hot chocolate and being all wrapped up in blankets. His love is a catalyst for change that starts in your chest and works its way down until the desires of your heart match up with your hands and you're empowered to do what you know. 

In other words, to be true to the truths that you know.

In contrast to love as it is portrayed in movies, the love of God lends clarity of thought and vision. His love is the light that shines brightly enough to reach the darkest parts of us. It is not blind to our inconsistencies or weaknesses and doesn't endeavor to cover them up, but rather to unveil them because He will not allow for us to blindly carry around the things that will eventually give us heartache if they haven't already. 

No wonder God commands us to repent--it is the single act that breaks down the walls that we so casually and unintentionally build to block out His love, the very power that enables us to change.
Repentance is a merciful gift because Satan has a way of making us feel like we're building a castle when really all it turns out to be is a wall. He is all about minimizing potential and happiness, and he works especially hard to make sure that we are hardly aware of his efforts. Therefore, he restricts our perspective to look at one brick at a time, trying to occupy our minds so as to keep us from seeing the lackluster future that we're building.
In contrast, the love of God enlightens and broadens our perspective. It gives us confidence, purpose, wisdom, and endows us with a very real power to chase away the darkness. We can clearly see what it is that we're working for my faithfully laying each brick and we are filled with a desire to do and be more rather than settling down with the mediocre. 

In short, the love of God inspires us to be consistent with who we really are and endows us with sufficient power to do so.

Consistency in truth always results in peace of mind, and that's what Heavenly Father wants for us. He demands consistency from us because He feels that we deserve peace and confidence and wisdom and purpose, and none of those come without first living lives and making decisions that don't put restrictions on the way that He can manifest His love to us.

Mom, you asked me to summarize my mission (what I've learned) last week, and my first reaction was to think that it'd be on the same level of difficulty of trying to describe salt to somebody who's never tasted it. But in pondering about it, Romans 8:35,37-39 came to mind:

35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, orsword?

 37 Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

 38 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

 39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

The love that Heavenly Father has for us is the truth that I've seen consistently woven throughout my experiences and it's what has changed me the most. Because of His love, I'm home wherever I go. 

I love you all a lot. Like...probably more than you can comprehend.

С любовью,

Сестра Шакира

P.S. We're in the picture with Elder Atkinson and Elder Jensen. They're the funniest

Week 68: October 13, 2014

I think that fall always makes me contemplative, but when you add General Conference on top of all the leaves changing as well as beginning a new transfer, I feel like I've got enough to think about for the rest of my life.

It was a good week. We watched Conference with the branch in Center and it was fun to get to know some of the members there. A woman named Tatjana brought what she called “American salad”, which consisted of fried rye bread, mayonnaise, corn, and cabbage...pretty sure that's about as Baltic as it gets.

I also went on an exchange with Sister Robinette in Center. Because of that, I got to go to the botanical gardens twice and talk to my good friend Karles. I'm not entirely sure how to spell Latvian names, but it's something like that. We've been raking leaves and stacking wood together for the past few times and, since he works there, we've worked closely with him. He's reaffirmed my suspicion that everyone who speaks English without an accent learned from watching Cartoon Network. He's great.

I didn't have time to tell you a few weeks ago, but something cool happened to me when we were on a bus heading home after a long day. It was crowded so I stood near the doors. I noticed an old woman staring at me, and as soon as I smiled at her, she got up from her seat and stood next to me. Her name was Galena and I had apparently spoken with her a few weeks before. I didn't remember what our conversation had been about but I did remember her face. She told me, "I did what you said. I've been writing down my prayers and it has really helped me and my relationship with God." Then I remembered. She had been very adamant in not wanting anything to do with me because she was active in the Russian Orthodox church. I remember feeling like I could at least talk to her about prayer and I found myself telling her what helps me personally when I pray: writing it down. I invited her to do the same but didn't expect much to come of it. In fact, as I was talking, I wondered why I was talking about something so specific and something that I'd never used in teaching before. Looking back, I can see that the Spirit clearly guided that conversation and that I spoke of specific things because I was talking to a specific person--Galena. 
It was cool for me to see that even if people aren't ready to hear about the Restoration, the Spirit can guide me to give them what they are ready for.

I'm sorry it's so short this week but there are a bunch of hoolies throwing rocks and banging on the church windows. Time to get my belt out!

Love you all :)

Love,

Sister Gooch