Born that man no more may die

Dear everyone,

 

I feel so sick, right now, having just read about what happened in Connecticut. Such horrible, needless suffering.

I don't have anything more to say about it than that. I just feel sick about it. But it is going to be coloring my thoughts and feelings, as I write this week's email, so I wanted to mention it.

 

Ironically, this was a very beautiful week for me;I had a couple, "I could die happy right now" moments.

The first was last P-Day. For the first time since coming to Taiwan, I left the city and we went to this old village called JiuFen up in the dark green mountains that overlook the coast. The ocean was foggy but so breathtakingly beautiful--and the village! All these old houses tucked into the steep hills, the tour buses winding up such narrow streets in the rain. The JiuFen old street is this little alleyway, completely covered by buildings, that weaves in and out of and underneath them and contains probably hundreds of tiny shops, selling Taiwanese food, snacks, desserts, pottery, toys, musical instruments, clothing--so many unique little things I wish I could show you all. Every once in a while the alley way would have an opening and you could see out to the coast again and the cold sea breath came up to greet our faces. The alley way was absolutely crammed with people, so loud, and the trash of their leftover lunches was overflowing from the garbage bins. But it was the loveliest thing. Apparently this old street was built years ago when Japan had taken over Taiwan, and this community up in the mountains didn't want to go down to the cities, so they built up shops in this little alleyway and sustained themselves up there. It's now a popular tourist spot.

 

I don't know why I loved it so much. I think it was the realization of this incredible place--barely a mile of geographical space but an infinity deep of history and culture--truly existed. It made me have so much appreciation for the beauty and diversity of human life, of the stories God lets us create. It was while we were taking the bus down the mountain and I was looking out at the ocean again that I had the feeling of such overflowing joy. I will have to show you the pictures some day.

 

Move calls were this week. I am officially done with training! (Training is our first 12 weeks on island--basically it just means we have an extra hour of studies every day.) I could barely sleep the couple nights after they told me I was moving. I would have to get to know Taiwan all over again! But really, as soon as I stepped out of the subway station into my new area, and saw the busy city streets--the Mcdonald's across the street, all the cars, all the people--I immediately felt this love for the area come over me.

 

My new area, ShuangHe, is not as ghetto as XinZhuang. XinZhuang was very... industrial. We would pass buildings sometimes and see  rows of women making school uniforms in front of sewing machines, or packaging pasta. Things like that. My new area is much more wealthy. There isn't as much street food, and everything is a bit more expensive. But, it is still the city! And I am totally a city girl, these days. In fact, an elder who has been serving here for a while said that YongHe, part of our area, is the third most densely populated city in the world. I am not sure if that is true. Maybe one of you can look that up for me? I have very little access to information like that.

 

My new companion is Sister Duggar. She is already very very dear to me. It is interesting how so immediately life can change--the challenges and strengths of our companionship are going to be so different from what they were with Sister Kang. I will have to write another time more about her, but even then I don't know how much I can while respecting her privacy. But I do want to say, I really have a testimony after being put with her that these move calls are inspired. I wish I could say all that has happened in the past three days of being with her. But it is too much for words, even if I had them all. Everything that happens to me here feels so, so big.

 

My other "I could die happy" moment came this weekend while performing with the missionary Christmas choir. We have been doing a couple performances each weekend at different wards in the Taipei area. This weekend we had four performances, and next weekend we have five. I play two violin duets with Sister Winters, who is a violin major at BYU. She is amazing! I love playing with her. One of our songs is a medley of "Jesus once was a little child" with "I'm Trying to be Like Jesus" and the other is "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem." This weekend, though, we also had to write little duet parts to play on the last verses of "With Wondering Awe" and "Joy to the World". I am so thankful for hours and hours of experience spent jamming with Searching for Celia! They gave us no time to write anything. I was writing in my head/plucking out a part with my thumb while we were sitting waiting for the one-time-through rehearsal to start.

 

This weekend, the choir sang different songs than our normal program because we were part of this big nativity program that the English ward in Taipei puts together every year. Let me explain first: Taipei has a temple square. It is a block in the middle of the city where the temple, a large, 3-floored chapel, a distribution center, and the mission home all sit. It feels like home for all the missionaries, and for many of the members as well, since there are so often activities or firesides held there. There are obviously fewer church members in Taipei than there are in Utah, though, so this temple square is much more close knit and has a feeling of community. All the sisters get turns to be temple square sisters for two days a transfer; we go temple square and teach lessons to people by using all the paintings they have in the chapel. They have paintings of temples, of Book of Mormon scenes, of Joseph Smith and pioneer days; but everyone's favorite hall is the one with pictures depicting many different events in Christ's life. I love teaching there because it's very artistic--you can point out different things the artists did--whether it is an expression on a disciple's face, or the direction Christ's body is oriented, or the distance between a boat and the shore--to teach gospel points.

 

Anyway, all of that is just to say that JinHua Jie, (the street where temple square is) is very precious to me. It's a place where I have felt uplifted by meetings or firesides, energized by seeing other missionaries, enlightened by the spirit. This weekend we had three performances of the nativity, two on Saturday and one of Sunday night. Several hundred people came to each performance. The stage was set up outside, in between the temple and the chapel. There was a lot of time, talent, and money put into this--there were costumes, a real horse for Mary, and three different choirs involved. The reading of the Christmas story was done in both English and Chinese, but all the songs we sang were in English. I have been singing Chinese Christmas hymns for the past month, but singing them in English is a totally different experience. I have a long history of experience and meaning with each word. I can't tell you what joy it was to be singing about Christ in this beautiful place that a year ago I didn't know existed--surrounded by palm trees and apartment buildings. And all these wonderful people in front of us, in the audience, singing of the same beautiful promises in their own language. They are so good, so loving and full of hope. They are so... humble and unrecognized. This topic deserves much more attention than I can give it right now, but do you know they all tend to think everyone in Utah must be so happy since their whole families are members of the church? These are people whose lives have been changed by the simplest of gospel principles.

 

My favorite Christmas hymns are "Once in Royal David's City" and "Hark, the Herald Angel's Sing." I remember singing these in sacrament meeting last year, and trying to hide my tears. I remember singing them in the family room on Christmas Eve. I remember Aya singing in Japanese. I remember all the tension and pain that so often sits in between persons. And I think of Christ and his promises to us. They have proved so true for me on my mission.

Will you read through the words of those songs for me? I want to type them up for you but I don't remember them exactly.

 

There is so much suffering I don't know anything about. Like hearing that your child was shot in their kindergarten class. It is too heavy and huge for understanding.  I don't know anything about that. But I know about some other things. I know about the fears and loneliness that is a part of my life every day, here. Sometimes they seem very huge, as well. But how do I explain how knowing him in my heart allows me to love it all? I have honestly never been happier with life than I am, right now, but I have never been so faced with difficult obstacles. Every day when I get scared I remember that I need to take up my cross and follow him. What does it mean to take up my cross? To me it means to accept and to do what needs to be done. To accept that for whatever reason, I am in Taiwan right now with certain people and certain responsibilities. I don't know what is going to happen when I get home from my mission, or even tomorrow. But I know what I can do today, because if I have a mind and heart oriented toward solving the problems of right now he fills it step by step, line upon line, with answers. To take up my cross is to accept that I can't be with you for Christmas, and all the other things, too, but to go on working because there is love in my heart. To bear suffering the way Christ did. He really is there.

 

I love you all so much. I hope you all have a great week! Merry Christmas!

 

Diana