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

Week 67: October 6, 2014

You know when you learn some incredible news and you're excited to tell someone about it so you tell that person over email or text that you've got something to tell them and they better be excited but it'll have to wait until tonight because you're both busy with work or school but then on your lunch break you're crossing the street and you see this person and you want to tell them every detail of what you've learned and they even ask what it was that you wanted to tell them but you're in the middle of the street and cars are waiting to turn right and it's so disappointing to realize that now is not the time and even if there weren't any cars, it just wouldn't be the right place because you have a lot to say but the person that you're telling would have other things going on in their head like what class they have next or how many minutes it'll take them to get from their present location to their destination if they continue standing there listening to what you have to say and that's the last thing you want because what you have to tell them is something that they can't really understand or feel as deeply as you do in that state of mind and you don't want to tell them just to say it and get it over with but you want it to change them like it's changed you but you're rushed so the excuse that comes out of your mouth isn't a fully comprehensible sentence so much as it is a bunch of mumbled syllables because you see car blinkers out of the corner of your eye but they understand that you meant that they'll have to wait until later and you make it to the other side of the street feeling like you just managed to put a cork in a firehose? 

That, my dear friends, is what it feels like to email you every week. Especially this week. 

First, before I forget, I'll explain the pictures. I think one is of Sister Roy and I in Old Town today. I always underrate the old town of the big cities that I've been in. It's beautiful and made me feel like such a tourist. But sometimes it's nice to feel like that. It's relaxing.

The other picture is of me in a really, really ghetto apartment building. To get to one of the members' apartments, you have to walk through an abandoned apartment building and we thought we'd express how sketchy it felt through this picture. Can you feel the cobwebs collecting in your heart?

Salaspils was amazing last week. It was a concentration camp from 1941-1944. The whole place had such a heavy feeling to it. There was a big slab of rock to place flowers and inside the rock, there was a drum that sounded like the beating of a heart. I'm so glad we went, though. It was the coolest place I've been on my mission and it fulfilled my lifelong dream to visit a concentration camp.

We had zone conference this week and, as always, I was thrilled to see my homies from Daugavpils. Elder Farns told me that ever since I left, Valentina doesn't let them touch the potatoes in her garden. She always says, "Я сама!" which is like, "I'll do it myself!" That warmed my heart somethin' sore. (That was for you, Mike. I don't think it works in that context.)

I mentioned last week that I'd only have time to share one part of what I learned from Helaman 5. The part that I didn't get to share is that I've been thinking a lot about all of the miraculous displays of power and faith in the scriptures and all of them have one thing in common: they were true to the truths that they knew. I find it especially impressive in situations like what Nephi and Lehi faced in Helaman 5, where they have no logical reason (to others) to hope or to keep trying. Their circumstances were dark and the peoples' hearts were so hardened that they woudn't even turn to the Lord when facing destruction. And yet, Nephi and Lehi decide to spend all of their energies and efforts on a mission. Obviously 

they didn't make that decision by looking around at their circumstances: they looked to God. To them, God's matchless power and mercy were more real than what they could see with their physical eyes. 

It's the same for many others: Moses hadn't ever seen the Red Sea part but he had seen God do the impossible and take a stuttering, weak man and turn him into a prophet. Nephi hadn't ever built a boat but he had been undoubtedly guided in the wilderness and had seen visions. 

They had the faith to give just as much validity to those miracles (gradual though they were) as they gave to the fact that the sun would rise the next day. They could do that because they didn't cound God as a whimsical Being that cared about them and showed it just through abstract things like good weather and a nice hair day.

We can tell that they must have known that God would never leave them unaided if they were righteous and if their hearts were in the right place; that He is unchanging, because He had delivered their ancestors; and if He's unchanging, then He loves His children and always will.

Obviously there's a whole lot more to what they knew, but what I find so incredible is that they were actually true to their knowledge in their actions. All of their circumstances were factual: there were an army of Egyptians surrounding them with only a sea to escape to; there wasn't a single hammer lying around and there certainly wasn't familial support, but Moses and Nephi understood that some truths supercede others. The power of the truth that emanates from God about His character will always dominate circumstances or facts. This kind of truth operates on a higher power and, therefore, should have higher priority in our faith and beliefs. 

By its very nature, truth abounds and multiplies because it is all somehow connected: truth recieved and acted upon invites a gathering place for the accompanying truths, thus fulfilling the scripture in Doctrine and Covenants 88:66-68. 

Having your eye single to the glory of God means that you treasure and collect truth, acting in accordance with each addition of knowledge. 

We are often distracted by facts dressed up as truths that are far less superior to the truth that emanates from the very being of God Himself. That's why I was feeling so discouraged when I first came here: I was looking at a fact like "that woman did not want to talk to me" and connecting it with the "truth" that "nobody that I come into contact with is going to accept the gospel". I was connecting it with the wrong truth. The truth is that everyone has agency, not that nobody is prepared. 

I don't know how to explain this without making it jumbled and not concise, but I had the realization that we often prioritize the facts that we see to be in front of the truths that we know. And with the knowledge that we have of God, that's just not logical. 

I pretty much don't have any time to tell you about zone conference but it was the most inspired one that I've ever attended. As it was wrapping up, they announced that we'd hear the last testimonies from Sister Roy, Dalley and I. I felt like I'd been punched in the face. Seriously wasn't expecting that. All of us stared at each other in shock. Thankfully the Spirit was already really strong and so bearing my testimony felt right. 
I love you all a lot. Aaaand now I gotta cork this firehose. Have a great week!

Love,

Sister Gooch

P.S. Just throwing this out there: I would really love some hot chocolate and pumpkin spice...if there's any relief society woman who has pity on me, feel free to jump on that. Haha just kidding. (Not really.)

Week 66: September 29, 2014

I counted this morning and we are sleeping with seven layers of blankets (and a few tablecloths due to the lack of blankets) on our beds. That's not even taking into account that last night I slept in thermals, the wool hiking socks that Big J sent me, and the onesies that you sent me last Christmas. I seriously debated just keeping the onesies on when we went running this morning. 

So yeah, our apartment is freakishly cold even though the weather isn't too bad. Summer is definitely over though.

This week, we decided to turn our apartment into a soup kitchen and BAKE ALL THE THINGS. Sister Roy has a lovely bread recipe and we made six or seven loaves of bread for members and soup for daysss. Plus brownies. We (or rather, Sister Roy) came up with the idea to drop off dinner and a pre-made family home evening spiritual thought for the members who are too busy to meet. We're dropping off our first batch tonight and it's going to make me feel like such a Relief Society woman from the 50's. I'm trying to figure out how to make my hair do that beehive thing and start using exclamations like "hot dog!" and "by golly!" more often.

Yesterday at church, I was writing a note to attach to a loaf of bread in the kitchen when a member came in and looked at the fact that I'm a lefty, then said, "Левша!" That means southpaw. I had learned that word just to be obnoxious but it turns out that I actually needed it! I nodded and got really excited about it but I bet that he thought I was pretending to understand because it's quite colloquial. Either way, I've been feeling an abiding sense of satisfaction ever since.

I had an enlightening realization that I'm only going to have time to share one part of this week. 

In the beginning of Helaman 5, we learn that Nephi, a prophet/chief judge of his people, is dealing with a bunch of crap. The government has become so corrupt that their concept of justice doesn't even look remotely like the real thing and, put simply, "they who chose evil were more numerous than they who chose good."

I don't think that it's too far-fetched to say that Nephi had plenty of restless nights, asking the Lord what more he could do and feeling incredibly heavy in his heart as he watched things spiral steadily downwards despite his best efforts. 
So, to me, it made perfect sense when I read that he gave up his position to the presumably wicked Cezoram. The guy had exhausted all of his resources in trying to help these people and asked to be guided in every aspect, but in the end it didn't make a difference to them. His cries to return to that God who gave them breath fell on deaf ears, or at least they fell on ears who would rather be their own god instead of the One who actually requires His creations to become something worthwhile. 

So yes, giving up when you've fought for as long as you have the strength to is not only understandable, but it's logical. It seems sometimes that, in the circumstances that we wrestle with, we're trying to chase the tide away only to realize that we're just under the required size to stop an ocean from moving.

I would have guessed that that's how Nephi felt if I hadn't read further.

If those had been his true feelings, then he would have abandoned society altogether and spent his days plotting out something unchanging that he could have faith in, like the waxing and waning of the moon in a cave somewhere. Or at the very least, he would have found a nice little home one the outskirts of town so as not to be further bruised by the rejection of his people.

No. Obviously "hopeless" was not the most accurate word to describe how he felt because he decided that he was going to devote allhis time and energy to the one thing that he had perfect faith in: the gospel of Jesus Christ.

What strikes me is the humility that had to be such a fundamental part of Nephi's character. Even though everything about his circumstances indicated that any extra effort on his part would be useless, he had the humility to recognize that perhaps the Lord needed him elsewhere or to try something a little different instead of assuming that his work was finished altogether.

How tempting is it to count the obstacles that we repeatedly face as insurmountable when it seems like our best efforts aren't cutting it?

Well, join the ranks with the greatest examples of faith in the scriptures: there's always a first time to part the sea, to build a boat, to walk on water. The prerequisite is having the humility to acknowledge that your ways are not His ways and that the tidbits of knowledge that He gives along the way are enough to keep both of your feet on the ground.

The Lord has a harvest of blessings prepared for each of us, but He isn't interested in just the giving of blessings: it matters to Him how it's received. The difficulties that we pass (or crawl) through are the Lord's way of preparing us to receive the gifts that He gives us for what they are. He wants us to have eyes that can find value and worth in the overlooked; to learn how to see the full depth and dimensions of our blessings.

You can guarantee that if you're experiencing any kind of opposition in your life, the Lord is trying to change your heart to be more like His. Perhaps if we looked at our trials in this light instead of mourning the fact that they exist in the first place, we'd be more likely to recognize the divinity of our circumstances and, by extension, we'd be less likely to give up and throw in the towel. 

If Nephi had done so, then 8,000 people at the very least never would have found the peace and solace that comes with repentance and baptism. 
And who's to say that the humility with which you get through trials won't effect just as many? We are eternal beings and the consequences of our actions are eternal, so the decisions that we make really do mean something generations down the line.

Deciding to have faith in what you can't see why will always, always lead to moments in your life when you'll look back and see that decisions you made that had seemed to be small and insignificant actually made the biggest differences. Heavenly Father is a great rewarder of those who believe that He is always good on His word.

If you're looking for an enlightening scripture study, then read Helaman 5 and ask yourself what gave Nephi and Lehi the power to continue working with all of their heart, might, mind and strength even though they were weary. Remember that the answer is applicable to you and what you're experiencing.

I love you. I hope that this week is better than the last or the one before that and I hope that your gas tank lasts longer than usual and that you find some way to doubt your doubts instead of your faith. 

С любовью,

Сестра Гучка

P.S. Today, we're going to Salaspils with the district. It's about 45 minutes away by train so that's why we're emailing so early. But apparently there used to be a labor camp there and it's got a monument from WWII so I'm pumped! Hopefully pictures will follow next week.

Week 65: September 23, 2014

Just in case you're wondering, I feel safe here. I mean, relatively. I know that's not how normal people start their emails home but I'm running out of ideas, folks. The only times that I have felt just how loose my ties are to this earth and how mortal I am have been when the bush that I'm walking beside suddenly comes to life with the shrieks of cats fighting. That happened to me twice in one day last week and I'm fairly certain that my heart has been beating irregularly ever since. The worst thing is that those suckers are like loose cannons; first you hear the shrieks and then BOOM. They're running right where you're about to step. I guess it doesn't help that I have the irrational fear that they'll run up my body and destroy me with their claws in their blind fury. 

So yeah, it's been a great week. For real. It seems like I had an abundance of things to love and laugh about. 

I can't remember if I told you this or not, but we do service at the botanical gardens every Wednesday. This past week, we raked leaves and Anna, my friend from Daugavpils, came! She's going to university in Riga so I'll hopefully get to see her more often. She's fun.

On the way home from that, I saw an ancient man on a bench with a purple hat that had the silhouette of the Spice Girls on it. In CAPS, it read "SPICE". Poor guy probably has no idea what it means. If he does, he's shameless.

So long as I'm spouting random facts, I saw a hedgehog while running one morning. I've heard so many hedgehog stories from elders but had yet to see one for myself. Those things are precious!

Also had a good laugh on Sunday when I sat next to Valerij. We're doing movie night here in the next few weeks, so Valerij suggested that we watch "Scent of A Woman". He went on to tell me the plot and practically got teary-eyed when he said that because of that movie, he believes that "there is justice in this world!" What a hoot. 
Besides the fact that all of those minor details made this week fairly enjoyable, great things happened in the actual work!

I was trying to think of ways to get to know the members better, as well as a way to encourage them to get to know us. The only question I've really been asked here is, "Which state are you from?", immediately followed by a look of confusion when I answer.

So, it's pretty common for missionaries of the branch to have a little "About Me" with their pictures on the board in the church. I didn't want to do that again here because this branch especially seems to have little interest in talking to the missionaries since we change so often. 
What we came up with is to do a Mystery Missionary Spotlight, where there's a questionnaire kind of thing that one of us (my district) will fill out with some fun/funny questions that let our personalities shine through. There will be an envelope attached to the board where the members can put their guesses throughout the week and the ones who guess correctly will be provided with a treat from the mystery missionary. 

Kind of childish but President Bogdonov (branch president) is pretty pumped about it. I mean, as pumped as a stone-faced Russian man can get. We're also doing a Mystery Member Spotlight. I'm excited to actualize the idea this week. We just need to come up with good questions. If you have any ideas, send them to me! I'm drawing a blank over here.

I had quite the phone call conversation with a less-active woman named Allah last week that I wasn't going to tell you about (mostly because it was a long, taxing conversation with many details that I didn't feel were necessary for typing...and still don't). Basically, she called right before we were supposed to have a meeting and cancelled. When I asked why she couldn't meet, she gave me a halfhearted answer about her having another appointment pop up. I asked if there were another reason besides that and she told me that it's pointless for us to meet because she has made up her mind that she's leaving the church and she doesn't need some 20 year-old American girl trying to manipulate her. It was definitely one of those moments where I felt unqualified to be the one on the other end of the line, because she was right, to a certain extent. I don't know what it's like to grow up here in Latvia, with the things that they have to deal with concerning their government, what the culture is like, or even what it's like to grow up outside of the gospel. She told me that I came here with good intentions to see the world and gain experience and, sheesh, I don't know why but that just made my blood boil immediately. It reminded me of before my mission, when I told one of my high school teachers about my mission call and they were pretty adamant in insisting that I was going on my mission mostly to gain experience. I didn't defend myself then because I was awkward about talking about my purpose as a missionary, but I wish I would have. At least I got a second chance to do it to Allah. I stopped her and told her the truth, which is that gaining experience was the last thing on my mind when I submitted my papers to serve. Heck, if I wanted to "gain experience", I'd do a study abroad or something easier! I'm here because I know that having an understanding of who you are, who God is, and the power that comes with having a revelatory relationship with Him is necessary to have enduring peace and happiness. 

Over the duration of the conversation, it was painfully clear that she's been hurt in her life and that she didn't have anyone to turn to or to trust. She kept saying that she needed to find herself, without the brainwashing teachings of the church, its members, and the Book of Mormon. 

I was reminded of the scripture that warns us of counting good things as evil, and evil things as good. It was a paralyzing position to be in because no matter what I said, it would be counted as an attempt to manipulate. It's surprising sometimes how Satan can twist your perspective so much as to make you turn away from the only sources that you can find real help.
When I asked her if she's prayed or read the scriptures recently, she said no. From what I could gather, all of her beliefs were so much more vague and nebulous than what she used to know, and therefore it's easy to understand why she's so confused and doesn't know how to be happy anymore. One of the most valuable things I've learned on my mission has been that God is a god of logic and reasoning, and by extension, so is His gospel. We may not understand all of the ways that he works according to the laws of the universe (just like we don't have a full understanding of all the science that there is to be discovered), but we are provided with logical and concrete ways to gain access to His power and peace in our lives. 

I know I've talked about this a lot but I figure that if I repeat it enough, it'll sink into more than just your brain. It's still something that I'm trying to process.
I love my purpose as a missionary because it's given me a clearer purpose for the rest of my life. I'm so ready to take advantage of these last two months. 

Love you all to the moon.

С любовью,

Сестра Гучка 

Week 64: September 15, 2014

Oh, man. To start off this week, I'll tell you one of the things that made me laugh the hardest. It's not going to be that funny to you because, 1st: it was in Russian, which somehow makes everything funnier and 2nd: I think my imagination makes situations more comical than they actually are.

We were in missionary coordination meeting with Aleksei, who's a returned missionary. He's great. Sister Dalley was trying to describe a less-active lady to him and he was like, "Yeah, but if I remember correctly, her granddaughter is reeeeeally opposed to the church."

It was silent for a second and then Sister Dalley said, "That's weird, because I'm pretty sure that her granddaughter is five years old."

Picturing a little girl stamping her foot and yelling "NET" when her babushka wants to go to church just cracked me up. 

The cherry on top of that day was when we were waiting at a tramvai (I don't remember what that's called in English. Help?) stop and Sister Dalley and I were talking when right in front of her nose a bird pooped...right onto her scriptures. There's something hilarious about the way that Sister Dalley reacts to unfortunate events, and I love it.

Last Monday, we had a barbecue with the district here at the church. At the grocery store, they sell disposable grills (what?!) and we had ourselves some burgers. It's about time. 

Today we went into center to go shopping/out to eat with Elder Atkinson, Elder Jensen, Sister Dalley, and Sister Fackrell. Walking around and shopping reminded me that I'm in an amazing city and that people come here on vacation, so I should probably take advantage of that and start taking more pictures. Hopefully I get to send you some pictures of it today.

Church on Sunday was great. I was asked to bear my testimony, so I did. Using 2 Nephi 4:19...I think. Hopefully I didn't just tell you a random scripture, haha.

Since coming to Imanta, I have run into an interesting wall; one that I've never encountered on my mission. In endeavoring to explain it to you, I hope it doesn't sound like a bunch of complaining because that's not what it's meant to be. These details are necessary for you to understand the significance of what I'm learning. 

Imanta is different from every other place I've served. It's similar in the sense that there aren't really any youth and the members are awesome, but it's difficult because they lead very busy lives. Even though most of them are quite old, they have legitimate reasons for having no time in their week to meet with us. That's not the end of the world but it does slow down the work quite a bit because building relationships with them only happens on Sundays and in the ten minutes that we spend talking to them from their doorway as we drop off treats. 

Long story short: we need strong member relationships to find people and to support the people that we find through our own efforts. Without that, the work (along with me) becomes frustrated. Of course, that doesn't mean that our hands are tied and that we have nothing to do. There are tons of opportunities throughout the day to talk to people, especially since it seems like we spend half of our time on buses and trolleys (or whatever that blasted word is...tramvai). The thing is that it seems like this area more than any others that I've been in is particularly challenging to find people who are willing to listen. 

Again, without boring you with the details, I'll cut to the chase: the seeming stagnation of the work was disheartening to come into. Actually, it was motivating at first (if there is so much to be fixed, then there must be tons to do!) but it winded down after a few difficult things happened one right after another.

I found myself sitting on the bus in the middle of the week, nervously glancing over at the woman next to me. The nervousness wasn't necessarily born of desire to talk to her and fear that I wouldn't be able to express myself (pretty sure that no matter how long I'm on my mission, I'll always feel like I speak Russian poorly)--it was because I knew that I should talk to her but I absolutely did not want to. I had lost a desire to even try because I felt defeated before the conversation was started. 

Obviously the source of that discouragement wasn't God, but I was having a hard time with talking to Him about it because I've been a little confused by the signals He's been sending. Sister Roy and I have definitely felt inspired that the focus of our efforts should be on the members but it seems like all of our attempts to do that lead to walls; both old and new.

I guess it's been the first time on my mission that I really don't know what the Lord would have me do. There's the obvious answer of "keep working your hardest and miracles will follow--even if you don't get to see them until later, but that's just my problem! I don't want to work blindly; I want to do things exactly as Heavenly Father would have me do. Preferably detailed in a flow chart that's color-coded so that it's not only comprehensible, but nice to look at, too.

Well, that's not how He's given me guidance. It actually came in the form of a talk called "The Will of the Father In All Things, where Jeffrey R. Holland lovingly slaps me upside the head. 

He talks about the appearance of Christ right after His resurrection, and how deliberately He chose "first to obedience, his deference, his loyalty, and loving submission to his father. In an initial and profound moment of spellbinding wonder, when surely he had the attention of every man, woman, and child as far as the eye could see, his submission to his father is the first and most important thing he wishes us to know about himself.

Frankly, I am a bit haunted by the thought that this is the first and most important thing he may want to know about us when ‘we meet him one day in similar fashion. Did we obey, even if it was painful? Did we submit, even if the cup was bitter indeed? (Here's the part that gets me) Did we yield to a vision higher and holier than our own, even when we may have seen no vision in it at all?"

Whether it's in missionary work, deciding which school to apply to, how to pay off your debts, how to repair a relationship, or whatever--all of us at some point in our lives will experience the frustration of a seemingly silent heaven. God lets us experience it at the most impressionable moments of our lives because the lesson He's trying to teach us must be impressed (engraved; seared) upon us. 

Learning to be obedient against all odds--submitting your will to God's even if you don't know what exactly it is and you can't see a way through, around, over, or out of your situation, is what we're here to learn.

He continues, saying, The path to a complete Christian education passes through the Garden of Gethsemane, and we will learn there if we haven’t learned it before that our Father will have no other gods before him—even (or especially) if that would-be god is our self. I assume you are all far enough along in life to be learning that great discipline already. It will be required of each of us to kneel when we may not want to kneel, to bow when we may not want to bow, to confess when we may not want to confess—perhaps a confession born of painful experience that God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, neither are his ways our ways, saith the Lord".

The fact is that the map of our lives that we have in our head looks a lot like a map that Dora the Explorer would use. If it were to be perfectly followed, we'd short-change ourselves and come out of this live less than half the person we were meant to be. Besides, the ultimate destination isn't Chocolate Mountain--it's the celestial kingdom. 

I'm grateful that God cares enough about me to teach me this lesson right now. It's something that I'll learn over and over again, but I am thankful for the perspective that it lends in moments of confusion and discouragement.

Very early in the story of the Book of Mormon, Nephi's obedience to the Lord is tested brutally by the command to kill Laban. Elder Holland points out that, as readers reading a historical account, we are able to see the purpose; that it was in order to preserve a record and ultimately to lead to the restoration of the fullness of times. We know how much hangs in the balance, but as Nephi stands over Laban in anguish of spirit, he doesn't. All he knows is what the Lord asked him to do, and his determination to follow that led to so more blessings than he could have imagined.

As Elder Holland said, "If Nephi cannot yield to this terribly painful command, if he cannot bring himself to obey, then it is entirely probable that he can never succeed or survive in the tasks that lie just ahead."

We know the incredible journey that Nephi underwent afterwards. I'm not sure exactly what the Lord has for me in the future, but I will do all that I can to learn this one lesson; to be obedient under whatever circumstances I'm in regardless of my ability to see what's ahead.

If we choose to be obedient, even (or especially) in the moments where it doesn't make sense, then God will endow us with the power to do what is not only right, but what is best. We will not have regrets about the decisions that we make and a sense of peace will always abide with us, no matter what happens.

I attached Elder Holland's talk to this email, so please read it. He says all that I'm trying to say much more beautifully. 

I love you all and hope that this week is great for you. 

Love,

Sister Gooch

P.S. "All I Want For Christmas" by Mariah Carey came on in City Wok (place we ate) today and I just about died. What month is it again?