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?