A Christmas Tree for Diana

I would like to send Diana (and her brother Jeffrey, who is a missionary in Chile) a Christmas tree from home--just a big cut out tree of green paper, but I would like the ornaments to be pictures of family and friends.  Could you send me a picture that I could place on a paper ornament for Diana's tree?  If you would like to send her a message to be placed on the ornament, you could send that too, or you could create the ornament yourself, but I would like to receive the pictures this week so I can get Diana's Christmas tree in the mail to her next week.  Thank you for the love and support you've given Diana throughout her mission.  Hope to include you on our "tree"!

 

thanks,

Lorraine Brown

If you would like to send a picture, please leave a comment or send a message on Diana's facebook page so we can give you more information. Thanks!

xin de zhihui‏

Hey everyone,

Homecoming talk December 29th? I can do that. I just hope I won't fall asleep.

Things keep going, here. There are good and bad moments, happy and sad, faithful and faithless moments. Here's something I was thinking about this week:

My new ward is in central Taipei; it is the oldest, larges, and probably the wealthiest ward in all of Taiwan. The vibe there and the interactions among members and missionaries are the mos similar to a Utah ward since I have seen, since coming to Taiwan. People's knowledge of the gospel is more deep and thorough, the teachers are more articulate and polished, and people tend to be more devoted to their callings. There are more families in this ward, rather than a large collection of random individuals who missionaries brought in. These families tend to be second or third generation church members, rather than first generation members. People dress nicer, and are just more "classy" people, I guess you could say. In many ways, this ward--while imperfect--exemplifies the kind of ward we are encouraged to build in other parts of Taiwan.

Yet these smaller, younger, poorer, "weaker" wards and branches get things that my new ward does not. People are more open with their lives, elsewhere. Talks and lessons are more simply, less logical, and less thought-provoking, perhaps,  but more vulnerable in what people share. When people lose the fire of their testimony, they just stop coming to church rather than floating around out of habit, like they might in a more established ward. That means that the ones who stay have a strong feeling of community among them. In Tucheng, there were always several members who would hang out at the church literally all day on Sunday just because they loved the feeling there--a sense of belonging and love they didn't get outside. Other wards also tend to take care of missionaries really well; it is an honor to invite us to go eat at their houses, and they are always excited to talk to us and I've been given countless free stuff--skirts, scarves, musical instruments, notebooks, pens, etc.--from members who want to make us happy. These wards have a lot of room for progress in terms of spirituality, gospel knowledge, keeping commandments, etc. And yet they are just so delightfully humble, and good.

A couple of weeks ago we went to visit our bishop. He said that one reason a lot of members don't invite missionaries over to eat is because they are just too busy with their jobs, because everyone is worried about the economy. All the wards I have served in previous to this one are nowhere near as financially blessed, but this is the first time I have ever heard any member complain about the economy.

There is so much beauty in things that are still in the process. Sometimes it feels like we are always waiting to get to a higher level of strength or spirituality or knowledge, but somehow all we ever need is already contained within every day.

This goes along with a theme in my life that I have been trying to  figure out, lately. I want to find a balance between ambition and enjoyment, reaching forward into the future to become something better and loving the way my life currently is.  Before my mission I was always too hard on myself and never let myself be satisfied. On my mission I have learned the beauty of enjoying and appreciating simple things, like a good bowl of noodles or my companion's really long story about how her parents met. But giving entirely into enjoyment leads to a really dissatisfying feeling of laziness and complacency. There really is a sweet spot that needs to daily, over and over again, be found in the middle of things, in between ambition and appreciation. Does anyone have any other thoughts about that?

I think somehow, that's what God is able to miraculously do for all of us. His love reaches us wherever we are, whatever our circumstances look like. And Moses 1 leads me to believe he really does find a sort of enjoyment in our simple existence. And yet there is never any point where he says simple existence is all there is forever; he always wants us to become more, to live more fully, to gain wisdom and clarity to see the world.

I am going to go get on a train in a few minutes. President is sending a bunch of missionaries to the east coast of Taiwan, the quiet, slow-paced, dreamy on-the-coast places with trees and jungles that everyone always wants to get sent to. He is putting several extra missionaries there this week for a "power-finding activity", so all we will do is contact people all day every day. I get to go; I am so excited!! Be expecting really good pictures, next week.

Love you all!

Diana

wo kuai yao si de xiangfa

Dajia Hao!

This was a good week. We didn't have to spend nearly as much time in the office as I thought we would, so we had much more time to spend in our area, contacting. I think I will happily die here. (To die in missionary terms means to go home, at the end of your mission.) And if any of you are interested, I'm going to die on December 28th. I will miss Christmas, but I'm totally okay with that. There will be many American Christmases in America and only two in Taiwan.

So what do I mean, when I say we go out contacting? You might be wondering. Well, we pick a specific place like a street or a park, and then start striking up conversations with strangers. It's really easy to do that in Taiwan because there are people everywhere! We ask them how they are and where they're going and what their families are like and what they do for work, and then find a way to introduce what we are about. There are always various levels of awkwardness involved, but I find the best way to get over that is to just tell them the truth. I tell them that I really believe in God, and that in this church we can learn how to love more and experience happiness and have hope for change and receive guidance through prayer or whatever else occurs to me. I tell them that's why I came on a mission, and that's why I'm inviting them to learn more. Whatever seems true to say that day. (I despise feeling fake when I'm contacting people, although I will definitely admit that I have been guilty of various levels of fakeness when I'm not as spiritually alive.)

Anyway, often we have really beautiful experiences with people, right there on the street. One that is coming to mind is when we met a doctor who was waiting for a bus outside a hospital. He didn't want to learn more about the gospel, but we had a really good conversation and I was so touched by what a good person he is. He told us about how worried he was about some of the patients he was taking care of. We said a prayer with him, and this tall, gray-haired man, wearing his white doctor coat, started to tear up. He just kept thanking us. For some reason I decided to ask about his family, and he told us he wasn't married and lived alone. Then he thanked us again and walked away.

It is getting tempting, now that my time is running out in Taiwan, to live with my mind propelled forward into the future. Sometimes I worry when I see people's faces that I'm not seeing them as clearly, as singlemindedly, as I did when I was a new missionary. Back then, what seemed like endless mission time ahead of me  isolated me into a world where  faces were all I saw, and my responsibility to serve them was all I felt. I'm trying to continually remind myself to be here now, with the rain sprinkling on my hair and my shoes tapping on the pavement and a person with black, pulled back hair and a pale face in front of me. That's where God is; he's not found in our crazy dreams for the future or our confusing conniving thoughts about what others are thinking of us. He's found in the simple, daily things, the attention we give to other people's stories, the fruit we cut up and place in a bowl for our companions, the mental energy we take to the scriptures.

 I feel this sadness settle in sometimes because God is the best friend I have ever known and I never know him quite enough. And I worry that going home will drag my further from him. But I know that the daily choices I make will really determine that, rather than my environment.

I was reading through my journal this week and found something  I wrote back in June, that really helped me. It was from my infamous 7th transfer where I continually felt as humble as dirt because it was so hard to get along with my companion. I thought I would share this with you.

June 23, 2013
Today was beautiful because the gospel is true--it really does change our hearts; and when we let it, we open ourselves up to God's tender mercies that are sweeter than anything else. This morning I was praying to know what to do with my companion, and a line from Marion's 'Prolegomena to Charity' came into my mind: "Suffer as if you are guilty." I wrote a card to her, apologized and aid I understood if she couldn't forgive me. She warmed right up. As we road bikes to church and she made light jokes with me, part of me was a bit hurt and bewildered. "Wait... Isn't she going to apologize, too?" I gasped in my heart. But the voice of heaven came back saying, "Peace is what you asked for; don't resent it when it comes." And I was filled with the love of God which I realized is what I really needed, most. Most of the day I felt like singing about all the prayers of mine he has answered.

I hope you all are doing well. Mom and Dad and Chris and Tanner, I hope you get back safely from the East Coast and had a really good time!

Sister Brown

you yixie gaibian

So here's what happened: I moved into what will probably be my last area (because I only have two transfers left). This area is basically Taipei Temple Square, and the part of the city surrounding the temple.  My companion and I are in charge of supervising tours, training all the sisters that come in to do tours, helping President with any special projects he gives us, and going on exchanges to train the other Sister Training Leaders and  new missionaries who just came on island, and then keeping up our own proselyting area.

So now a lot of the work I do is in an office; there isn't as much time on the streets. I've been stubborn about this change; it seems like moving to a cozy position is a betrayal of all the awkward, sweaty, helpless-but-hopeful missionary work that most missionaries spend their days doing. I feel a sacred loyalty to that life, and don't want to ever feel myself above that. There really isl a deep sadness that those days are over. I will still get to do normal missionary work, but not as much.  Still, I'm trying to have a positive attitude and keep myself focused on others. And I have to admit, working on trainings to give other missionaries, critiquing art to put up in the chapel, getting called into President Day's office to give him feedback on some of his crazier ideas--some of the things I've done the past couple of days--also brings out an intellectual, analytical, creative side of me that I have been really missing.

I've been thinking a lot, this week, about the painful gaps in understanding between the bureaucracy of things (which I've now become a part of) and the mundane, real-life work the bureaucracy sits on top of. There really needs to be dialogue between both. Since coming here I have realized that a lot of the complaining we did about rules, why President thinks this or that, why the system is like that, etc.--was all a bit unfair. I have been impressed with the creativity and spirituality I've seen going on in the office, to solve different problems as they come up. I think my mission President is an incredibly genuine, loving person who is doing his best.

But I also see how the people at the top of the system are sometimes a bit out of tune with the real experiences of the missionaries. For example, a couple of days ago one of the assistants asked me about a Sister who I am really close to. Her numbers have been ridiculously low. She had one week where she literally had no lessons--we're not sure what she did with all her time.
This sister is Taiwanese, and I have been companions with her before, so I know her situation much better.  She has no confidence in herself, struggles with having a rigorous shcedule, doesn't like to keep mission rules, and  isn't very happy with mission life. Last week I went on exchanges with her. Her apartment was a WRECK. As she was taking a shower at night, I had a few quiet moments of washing her dishes and feeling quite overwhelmed with how to help her. I really wanted to do treat her how Christ would.

So here is what I did. When she got out of the shower, I told her that I felt like cleaning her apartment was more important than going to bed on time. We spent the next several hours sorting papers and sweeping, and talking. She was really open to me about all the challenges she's been having lately, with her testimony, her confidence in herself, etc. I knew innately my job was just to listen, to provide comments when helfpul, to encourage her, but mainly just to be honest and let her be honest. At one point I was trying to sympathize with her; I told her I new missionary work was a difficult sacrifice, and she said, "Actually, I don't think it is." Then she told me something she has never told me before, in our months of friendship. Before her mission, she had a huge pornography addiction that really negatively affected her schooling, her family relationships, her activity in the church, everything. She said a large motivation for going on a mission was to have a year and  a half where she could completely avoid porn. She has never felt cleaner in her whole life than she does right now.

I felt so overcome with love and compassion for her. We hugged andI told her how much I admired her. I could tell it meant a lot to her, that I just listened and didn't judge her. And maybe this sounds weird, but I feel like that moment--while we were sitting on the floor among dust piles and stacks of paper, and she told me about her porn addiction--was as real as any of the baptismal services I've had on my mission, in feeling like I was really making a good dent in the universe.

So do you see how when the assistant asks me why this Sister hasn't handed out a single Book of Mormon in the past seven weeks, I want to smack him a little bit? There is such a gap between the reality she lives and his understanding of her reality. But at the same time, I know he is just doing his best and this is why it's important to have people in my position, to be bridges between the two worlds. There needs to be open communication on both sides, not resentment.

So yeah. Those are some of my recent thoughts. I really believe God loves everybody, and everybody's testimony is beautiful--even if all there testimony is is that mission life standards allow you to avoid bad habits. I love this life so much, for helping me to see these things. I love that I was able to come here and learn Chinese so I could have a good influence in this Sister's life, that night. I don't know if it's apparent but I really believe in God, and believe in his love for all of us that covers every second whether we think it does or not. I LOVE what President Monson said to the relief society sisters that God's love is there whether we deserve it or not. It is simply always there.

I love you all! Hope you all have a great week!

Sister Brown

Dear whoever reads these,

Next week I won't be writing until Wednesday because we are going to the temple next week. Also, this week are transfers. I will be separated from Sister Du (*sad face*) and I will be moving to a new area. President Day pulled me into his office when I was at the mission home last week and had a talk to me. My life is going to change a lot next transfer. But you'll have to wait till next week to find out why.

I feel at a blank as of what to write right now. I don't remember what any of you think is important or like to hear about. If any of you have things you WANT to know, ask and I will try to answer next week.

If I had to sum up everything I have learned so far on my mission into one sentence, I would probably say this: Everyone needs a savior. On my mission, I have given so much of my heart and energy to working, to loving people in the ways I know how. But then there are times like this past weekend when I sort of crash and see how maybe I should have expressed love differently than I did, maybe I was emphasizing the wrong thing all along. Specifically, I have always struggled trying to balance having a strong work ethic with being patient with companions who don't. I have just tried to deal with this every day--every hour figure out when it is right to push or relax, when it's right to talk about investigators and when it's right to talk about boys, when it's right to take time to laugh with my companion as we're on the bus and when it's right to talk to the person sitting next to us--but even with this approach, I make many mistakes. Sometimes I feel so overcome with regrets about how I handled things, about pain I have been blind to. But I know that going forward in the other direction will lead me to be blind to other types of pain. I feel sure we should seek balance more than extremity in one virtue.

Anyway, I have learned about myself that I am always, always going to have blind spots. At the end of the day I just feel so thankful to have a savior who can forgive me, for all of it. I really never, ever wanted to hurt anyone.

That is sort of depressing. But I also want to say that I have learned so many beautiful things about how good life can be and how many people we can help and how many problems we can solve if we will just ask ourselves what is right and then try to do whatever we think is best. I think most of the time we think we are living lives according to our consciences, but we live rather passively. We don't actually ask ourselves that often what the right thing do about this or that is. I don't think nearly as much as I should. Sometimes answers are so obvious when I just take time to think about it clearly.

I forgot what I was going to say.

Oh yeah. So like in 2 Nephi 32:9, it talks about how we should pray before we do things and God will consecrate what we do. I take that to mean that even though I have lots of blind spots and sometimes the right way to do things is really unclear, if I do everything with a prayer in my heart and try to live by actively (rather than passively) doing what I think is right, he will make whatever I choose the right thing. Following the spirit is not so much about doing what was engraved in the heavens that you shoudl do as doing whatever you choose to do with a heart full of love, full of desire to be good. I think that's what it means to be consecrated, to have a savior.

Love you!

Diana