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