Zao an!

This was another beautiful week! We had another typhoon, which brought insane amounts of rain. We stayed inside on Wednesday because it was too dangerous to go out, but Friday we still went out and I felt like I was in a water park. Every time I pedaled I got water squirting into my shoes, and we were biking through several inches of rain in order to stay safely on the side of the street. I know it was probably dangerous, but it was also really, really fun. I felt like laughing the whole time, as we biked around town.

You may have heard, but there was a missionary in Singapore who died this week while biking. It was so terrifying to hear that. I feel so protected all the time, considering how dangerous it is what we're doing. But after thinking about it more, I also realized that if the terrible thing happened that I did die out here, I also don't think I could die any happier. I feel like every day is so worthwhile and meaningful. I have love in my heart. And even though I obviously don't want to die and don't think I will, I feel really grateful to be able to say that. Haha, keep praying for my safety!

One of the fun things about being a Sister Training Leader is getting to go on exchanges twice a week. Going on exchanges is when you switch companions for a day, and it basically ends up being a slumber party. We say our prayers and turn off the lights at 10:30, but end up talking until we start talking in our sleep. I love getting to know and learn from other sisters in the mission, and also getting to help them.

All the other sister missionaries, I really believe, just need to be told that they are okay. They are doing great. One of my favorite things to teach them is that I, like them, am imperfect and don't really know what I'm doing, half the time. I tell them this clearly, and try to be honest about my experiences. I also feel like somehow Heavenly Father helps them learn this in the way our plans work out. Somehow it seems like on exchanges I end up being late to EVERYTHING. And once we traveled an hour by bus to an appointment, only to realize I had left the lady's number and address at home, so we had no way of knowing which house was hers. It was frustrating, but I just turned to my companion and started laughing. I said, "I'm sorry, that was so dumb of me to leave it at home! Well, let's try to do something else worthwhile!" And we started just contacting people. I think for these poor girls who feel so stressed at being a perfect missionary and having lots of success, there is nothing more relieving than to see that it's okay to make mistakes.

There is a sister I went on exchanges with who is having a really hard time. She is considering going homes. As I sat across the desk from her and she lamented to me about this and that, and how she feels like people at home are moving on without her, a peace came over me. Earlier in my life, I feared things like this. People making choices that differed from mine seemed somehow to diminish the rightness of what I was doing. But my faith is stronger now; the sincere feeling that came over me was, "If she goes home, I wish her all the happiness at home that she wants!" And I really felt that God did as well. In the universe of decisions made, the decision to go home early from a mission is such a small one. It is so foolish to think that that choice, or any other choice, could somehow change God's love for us, or his desire to help us.

And as she talked to me, I saw things so clearly all of a sudden. I saw in the way she chose to twirl the pencil in her hands, in the way she chose to rest her elbow on her desk, in the words she chose and the twist in her mouth as she spoke them, how faith is a choice. My worry for her is not that going home will make God's love to her inaccessible, but that she will simply change places without solving the problem in her heart. Faith is about choosing to love and embrace our lives, the people in the them, the imperfections they inevitably bring. And it was so clear to me all of a sudden that faith is that choice that I am trying to teach people to make out here.
I love you all

Diana