Shengdanjie Kauile! Merry Christmas everyone!
Thank you so much for all of you loving and supporting me, while I've been on my mission. Mom, I got your package! I loved it! I gave out the popcorn balls to random people who weren't expecting it, rather than the people in my district. An old lady practicing really basic piano hymns in the chapel, two high school students who went to a classroom in the chapel to study for a test, the chapel security guard. It was fun.
I sort of feel like my life is ending, like I've been floating peacefully in this universe for a while on the crest of a wave, but the waves are suddenly getting larger, louder, more intense, and any second now I'm going to crash against the firm hard shore, and I don't know what will happen then. I feel nervousness and fear for facing life after the mission, deep sadness for the people I will love here, and also an overwhelming gratitude for this experience.
At the same time, I have this sense that life actually isn't any louder or more intense than it seems. I am still me, still owner of those quiet, delicate decisions I make in my heart every day. I still have to drag myself from sleep and have time to stretch in the mornings. I still like to sit on the floor and cuddle up to the space heater during studies, like I have every winter day of my mission. I still have to think about and carefully choose my words when I talk to Sister Chu, and shift the space heater in her direction when she clutches her legs, indicating she is cold. In a week life will be as peaceful as it's ever been, just with different scenery.
Like, really. The details of life are always so beyond our control. I want to live inside that sweet reality I've found during my mission, where life consists of a continual stream of choices to love or to not love. It's like an assembly line in a factory. You pick up one thing at a time, one person, one lesson, one conversation, and you decide what you do with it, and then you set it back down and do the same thing to whatever life brings you next. Over and over again. Life is just all these quiet little decisions we do in our hearts.
I feel so thankful for the atonement, for teaching me once I have set something down in the past, not to worry about it so much. Sometimes we have time and eyesight to rectify our mistakes, but sometimes we do all we can and it's still not enough. If we start freaking out about all we did wrong, we're going to miss all the opportunities for better decisions that keep coming down the line. We have to keep our minds focused on whatever person or challenge or requirement is in front of us right now, and just doing the best we can.
Okay, I have to go now. I guess I'll see you all on Saturday afternoon... awkward. Just kidding. I really do love you all and am excited to get reaquauinted!
Have a very Merry Christmas!!!
Sister Brown
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Monday, December 16, 2013
the christmas choir and making old people cry, and stuff
Zao An,
Time has gone by so fast. I feel the pull coming from the other side of the world, and it's really strange. I'm trying to be excited, not scared. I am worried most about losing the clarity I have developed out here, that comes when I'm able to think about others and not myself. Lately there has been this self-consciousness settling in on me, as I think about going home and who I will be. I have no idea how to be a "normal" person. At the same time, I feel how toxic this kind of thinking is, how much time it wastes, and what a deception it is to think that there is such a thing as being "normal" or that other people know reality better just because there are fewer people who challenge their definition of it.
I want to just keep doing what I've done on my mission, which is to not worry about these questions. Just live, and love the people around me and do whatever occurs to me is best to do--and don't get in fits when I have limited knowledge or abilities. Do what I can with what I've been given, and enjoy whatever comes after I've done that.
I'm just trying to be where my feet are. Luckily we have been really busy.
The missionary Christmas Choir has been bringing lots of beautiful experiences. And as usual, the loveliest ones are those that come unintentionally, in between things. For instance, we have been traveling on the MRT (metro) to different wards to perform.When we travel together with a group of missionaries, there is always such a temptation just to talk to each other. But there is always a very evident stickiness to our conversations together; we all feel the tug to look behind us, to our sides, and start talking to the people around us. So we do. And this huge, delightful energy engulfs the train as all these white shirted, white-bloused, red-scarfed people with name tags start making friends with separate and start making friends with everyone around them.
We found some people who had interest in coming to our concerts or coming to church, but we also apparently impacted people we didn't even talk to. On Saturday afternoon, we ran into the Danshui Elders. They stopped us and said, "We really need to thank you!" Apparently while we were contacting on the MRT the night before, a less active man had seen us. He was so touched by how happy we all were, even though many people were caught off guard when we started talking to them and didn't seem to have much interest. He decided to start coming back to church, so he called the elders and asked what time church was, and if he could meet them. When he was meeting with them, he showed them a picture he had sneakily taken of my companion and me talking to a woman with not very much interest. haha.
Another lovely little thing happened on Saturday. We went out to a really famous busy streets where crowds mill around to shop or go out to eat, and we started caroling and handing out flyers for that night's performance, inviting people to come. Then we remembered that our investigator, Jiang Jiemei, lived nearby. She is a very intelligent woman in her 70's who lately has been really humbled by her declining health, and is learning the gospel fast. (She is getting baptized on Christmas!) We walked with the Elders to her first floor apartment. She opened the door and we sang Silent Night to her. She watched us quietly for the first two verses, but on the third verse, she just collapsed into silent sobs. I think all of us wanted to cry, too; there was such a beautiful spirit, among us. We invited her to that night's performance and she firmly said, "I'll be there."
Between the nativity performances, our choir performed, and I also played some songs I arranged with Elder Darger, an Elder who plays guitar who used to play in a band in Provo, like me. It was so fun; we got a really enthusiastic crowd to watch us, and we were kind of rocking out to our minor-folky style Christmas songs in a missionary way, haha. I can't believe how much I've used my violin on my mission, and how much my experience with my band has helped me learn how to write things quick, improvise, and perform so I could play out here. I am really lucky.
I don't know how life has been so good to me.
Okay, have a great week and stuff! Love you!
Sister Brown
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
聖殿合照
Nihao everyone!
In the picture are my companion Sister Chu and a woman I met in a hospital, named Sister Su. She is a member from Southern Taiwan, but is recovering from cancer in a Taipei hospital. I went to visit her with another sister once while we were on exchanges, and found her to be one of the happiest, warmest people I have ever met. She sat up in bed to chat with us about our lives, and kept demanding her son to peel oranges for us or to search the cupboards for snacks to send us home with. I asked if I could take a picture with her, because I wasn't sure if I would see her again, but she said no--she doesn't want any pictures taken of her when she is in the hospital. (That was probably insensitive of me to ask? I didn't think about it.) But she promised as soon as she got out of the hospital, she would come to the chapel where I serve and find me, to take a picture. I didn't think she would, but she really did! I wasn't even at the chapel when she came, but when I showed up an hour later several people said, "Hey, a lady is looking for you!" And there she was. She kept her promise. That meant so much to me.
Sister Chu and I went to Hualien on exchanges this week, (that lovely town on the east coast), and had an amazing time. When we got back, we were full of fire that we wanted to use in our own area. On Friday we were like little kids, hurrying to get our homework out of the way so we could go out and play. We got all our planning and training done in the early afternoon so we could have several hours of free, uninterrupted contacting time on the street. Somehow it seemed we were laughing the whole night long--whether we were pedaling our rusty bikes down a long stretch of road, or getting rejected, or staring wide-eyed at each other after just saying goodbye to someone who surprised us with how "golden" they were. We had such a happy energy between us. Neither of us are afraid of talking to strangers, and at this point we are either good at bringing up the gospel naturally with people or (more likely) are totally immune to the sting of social awkwardness, so we went crazy making friends with people and inviting them to learn. We met a woman who wants to get married and is really interested in our church's family values, an insurance agent who watched people reject us several times and was so touched by our cheerful responses that he wanted to get to know us more, a college student who has always wanted to come to church but never felt she could just walk in by herself, a man who wanted to know if there was anyway to experience God in his life. Unfortunately, most of the people we met didn't live in our area, so we may never see them again, but we got a lot of good referrals for missionaries in other areas!
Really, life is just so good. We have a big, 3-hour training we are in charge of this Wednesday, and I am getting a bit stressed. But whenever I start feeling overloaded with all the things I have to do before then, I remember God. He wants me to embrace whatever situation I am placed in, do my best to make it more beautiful than it was before, and then just enjoy whatever comes from my efforts.Dad asked me in his email today what I think of the "what if" questions we always give ourselves, regretting how we've handled things in the past. Obviously self-introspection is hugely important, but it is also silly to think introspection can ever allow us to see ourselves clearly or our special way of making waves in the universe. So there is also a space we have to find during our daily-repentance-processes where we acknowledge how much we need's God's mercy and find a humble enjoyment in the goodness of life as it already is. Read D&C 59. Or the Pearl of Great Price. Or just think about the atonement! We all know the half of the atonement that says we need to change and repent, but we often forget about the part that says we can let ourselves free after we have done our best.
So, can I still call you all for Christmas? I could just talk for a few minutes. Mom, I don't need a lot for Christmas. But could I ask for a new set of scriptures? It's a long story (that is actually a really cool story, you should ask me about it when I get home), but basically I don't have any scriptures anymore so i've been using a cheap set I bought at the distribution center here. Also, I don't know if you're considering getting me a cell phone, so I hope I'm not making assumptions, but if you are, go for cheap! If it can text and make calls, it's good enough for me.
Love you all! Have a great weeK!
Sister Brown
In the picture are my companion Sister Chu and a woman I met in a hospital, named Sister Su. She is a member from Southern Taiwan, but is recovering from cancer in a Taipei hospital. I went to visit her with another sister once while we were on exchanges, and found her to be one of the happiest, warmest people I have ever met. She sat up in bed to chat with us about our lives, and kept demanding her son to peel oranges for us or to search the cupboards for snacks to send us home with. I asked if I could take a picture with her, because I wasn't sure if I would see her again, but she said no--she doesn't want any pictures taken of her when she is in the hospital. (That was probably insensitive of me to ask? I didn't think about it.) But she promised as soon as she got out of the hospital, she would come to the chapel where I serve and find me, to take a picture. I didn't think she would, but she really did! I wasn't even at the chapel when she came, but when I showed up an hour later several people said, "Hey, a lady is looking for you!" And there she was. She kept her promise. That meant so much to me.
Sister Chu and I went to Hualien on exchanges this week, (that lovely town on the east coast), and had an amazing time. When we got back, we were full of fire that we wanted to use in our own area. On Friday we were like little kids, hurrying to get our homework out of the way so we could go out and play. We got all our planning and training done in the early afternoon so we could have several hours of free, uninterrupted contacting time on the street. Somehow it seemed we were laughing the whole night long--whether we were pedaling our rusty bikes down a long stretch of road, or getting rejected, or staring wide-eyed at each other after just saying goodbye to someone who surprised us with how "golden" they were. We had such a happy energy between us. Neither of us are afraid of talking to strangers, and at this point we are either good at bringing up the gospel naturally with people or (more likely) are totally immune to the sting of social awkwardness, so we went crazy making friends with people and inviting them to learn. We met a woman who wants to get married and is really interested in our church's family values, an insurance agent who watched people reject us several times and was so touched by our cheerful responses that he wanted to get to know us more, a college student who has always wanted to come to church but never felt she could just walk in by herself, a man who wanted to know if there was anyway to experience God in his life. Unfortunately, most of the people we met didn't live in our area, so we may never see them again, but we got a lot of good referrals for missionaries in other areas!
Really, life is just so good. We have a big, 3-hour training we are in charge of this Wednesday, and I am getting a bit stressed. But whenever I start feeling overloaded with all the things I have to do before then, I remember God. He wants me to embrace whatever situation I am placed in, do my best to make it more beautiful than it was before, and then just enjoy whatever comes from my efforts.Dad asked me in his email today what I think of the "what if" questions we always give ourselves, regretting how we've handled things in the past. Obviously self-introspection is hugely important, but it is also silly to think introspection can ever allow us to see ourselves clearly or our special way of making waves in the universe. So there is also a space we have to find during our daily-repentance-processes where we acknowledge how much we need's God's mercy and find a humble enjoyment in the goodness of life as it already is. Read D&C 59. Or the Pearl of Great Price. Or just think about the atonement! We all know the half of the atonement that says we need to change and repent, but we often forget about the part that says we can let ourselves free after we have done our best.
So, can I still call you all for Christmas? I could just talk for a few minutes. Mom, I don't need a lot for Christmas. But could I ask for a new set of scriptures? It's a long story (that is actually a really cool story, you should ask me about it when I get home), but basically I don't have any scriptures anymore so i've been using a cheap set I bought at the distribution center here. Also, I don't know if you're considering getting me a cell phone, so I hope I'm not making assumptions, but if you are, go for cheap! If it can text and make calls, it's good enough for me.
Love you all! Have a great weeK!
Sister Brown
Monday, December 2, 2013
qiji de meiguoren (A miracle American)
Zao An,
I am thankful for things that take me out of my comfort zone.
I think it's so beautiful, how our every day efforts to be good are never enough and never perfectly executed, but they still chip away at the mass of pain in the world, and they change us.
On my mission, I've been able to love and work well with people who are so different from me. Chu Jiemei, my companion, has a heart of gold, but is extremely naive. She doesn't think very deeply about things, and it never occurs to her that others could have ill intentions. I used to be really snobby towards people like that, and felt that our worldviews were too incompatible to get along.
The reality is that Chu Jiemei and I are really, really happy together. After we turn off the lights and say our prayers we stay up late talking and laughing; I listen to her tell stories about earlier in her mission or the famous Taiwanese singer she has a huge crush on. I genuinely love her, and learn so much from her every day. Her naivete allows her to do good that I can't deliver in the same way. She saw a lady collapse in the Metro the other day and dashed over, frantically trying to help. Within ten seconds it was apparent the lady was simply drunk, and her husband embarrassedly shooed us away, not wanting us to make it more obvious than it was. But the way Chu Jiemei cared for the lady was so touching and compassionate; she didn't care the reason for her fall. Chu Jiemei will also forgive me in a second's time, when I get stressed or impatient. Usually it surprises her when I apologize, because she never noticed me do anything to express my frustration.
Why are we all waiting to develop some superhuman abilities to be able to conquer life? All we need to do good is already within us; all it takes is a desire. Like Bill pointed out, no amount of knowledge can compensate for a lack of desire. No perfected qualities can, either.
I love D&C because God is always so clearly working through imperfect people. He chastises them at times, but he also forgives them so often, and tells them it doesn't matter what they did in the past--if they are willing to be humble and work now, he can use them to do good. He repeats over and over again the theme that if they have a desire to serve, they can and should serve.
Somehow the point of religion must be to help people develop and foster that desire, to give a place for it's expression.
I had a really incredible lesson on Friday night with an American named Nathan, who is here for a month to study Chinese. I met him on the street a few nights before, and invited him to come take a tour of the chapel. He said yes and gave me his phone number. As it usually is when I am contacting men, I wasn't really sure if he was interested in learning about church or interested in me, but I'm so glad I didn't judge him--when he came, he introduced himself as an extremely spiritual religiously-unnaffilliated guy who loved learning about philosophy and religion.
We had one of the most intelligent, deep, spiritual lessons of my whole mission. We went thoroughly through the whole restoration. He loved the concept of continuing revelation, saying that kind of openess is essential to being one with God. He resonated with Joseph Smith's loneliness over his spiritual experiences that he couldn't deny but that others couldn't understand. He was probably very aware of polygamy and all the stigma against Mormons, but he was so kind, open, and accepting, while listening to us. He shared his own very enlightening thoughts with us, as well, about how he has come to compromise science with spirituality. He has really complicated theories about how God created the chemicals in our brains in just a way so that certain triggers will allow us to physically experience his existence. I shared with him a line from D&C 93 that has helped me a lot: "Spirit and element, inseparable connected, experience a fullness of joy." He gasped and threw his hands up in the air excitedly and said, "Mind blown. That is PERFECT. I love it!"
When we were finishing, he said that he had had a feeling before coming to Taiwan that something big, spiritually speaking, was going to happen to him here. And he said that while he was in our chapel, he felt something. "The spirit, that connection... whatever you call it. I just--I don't know.. I want you to know I really feel closer to God, now."
I felt like I was on a high, after our lesson with him.
Talking to people on the street is so interesting, because there are always so many people and the million tiny decisions we make each minute about who to talk to and what to say can influence eternity. I didn't have to talk to him, or invite him to meet with us. I really, really didn't have to. When I am contacting it is so easy to get discouraged and to not have faith in people. But I'm so thankful for the encouragement I've received from this gospel to keep going, to keep having faith, to keep going out of my comfort zone to do good in the world. It really can make a difference.
I love life. Have a great week!
Diana
Here is a baptism we had this week! Ren Jiemei. She is so cool! I think she is really proud of herself for making it to baptism, and even though she's a little quiet about expressing her feelings, I can tell she has changed so much. Over the past few weeks, when she has decided to get baptized, there has been something so much softer and kinder in her demeanor and in her interactions with us. I wish she were more open so I could know the story in her heart.
And another picture of some friends who came to visit me on Saturday! There is Xiao jiemei, my Taiwanese twin who got baptized in one of my old areas, and another ward member. We are standing in front of the temple, here. It is so hard to have to start saying goodbye, to people. Although it's also a little funny, because it'll be a million times easier to stay in contact with them once I get back and have facebook.
I am thankful for things that take me out of my comfort zone.
I think it's so beautiful, how our every day efforts to be good are never enough and never perfectly executed, but they still chip away at the mass of pain in the world, and they change us.
On my mission, I've been able to love and work well with people who are so different from me. Chu Jiemei, my companion, has a heart of gold, but is extremely naive. She doesn't think very deeply about things, and it never occurs to her that others could have ill intentions. I used to be really snobby towards people like that, and felt that our worldviews were too incompatible to get along.
The reality is that Chu Jiemei and I are really, really happy together. After we turn off the lights and say our prayers we stay up late talking and laughing; I listen to her tell stories about earlier in her mission or the famous Taiwanese singer she has a huge crush on. I genuinely love her, and learn so much from her every day. Her naivete allows her to do good that I can't deliver in the same way. She saw a lady collapse in the Metro the other day and dashed over, frantically trying to help. Within ten seconds it was apparent the lady was simply drunk, and her husband embarrassedly shooed us away, not wanting us to make it more obvious than it was. But the way Chu Jiemei cared for the lady was so touching and compassionate; she didn't care the reason for her fall. Chu Jiemei will also forgive me in a second's time, when I get stressed or impatient. Usually it surprises her when I apologize, because she never noticed me do anything to express my frustration.
Why are we all waiting to develop some superhuman abilities to be able to conquer life? All we need to do good is already within us; all it takes is a desire. Like Bill pointed out, no amount of knowledge can compensate for a lack of desire. No perfected qualities can, either.
I love D&C because God is always so clearly working through imperfect people. He chastises them at times, but he also forgives them so often, and tells them it doesn't matter what they did in the past--if they are willing to be humble and work now, he can use them to do good. He repeats over and over again the theme that if they have a desire to serve, they can and should serve.
Somehow the point of religion must be to help people develop and foster that desire, to give a place for it's expression.
I had a really incredible lesson on Friday night with an American named Nathan, who is here for a month to study Chinese. I met him on the street a few nights before, and invited him to come take a tour of the chapel. He said yes and gave me his phone number. As it usually is when I am contacting men, I wasn't really sure if he was interested in learning about church or interested in me, but I'm so glad I didn't judge him--when he came, he introduced himself as an extremely spiritual religiously-unnaffilliated guy who loved learning about philosophy and religion.
We had one of the most intelligent, deep, spiritual lessons of my whole mission. We went thoroughly through the whole restoration. He loved the concept of continuing revelation, saying that kind of openess is essential to being one with God. He resonated with Joseph Smith's loneliness over his spiritual experiences that he couldn't deny but that others couldn't understand. He was probably very aware of polygamy and all the stigma against Mormons, but he was so kind, open, and accepting, while listening to us. He shared his own very enlightening thoughts with us, as well, about how he has come to compromise science with spirituality. He has really complicated theories about how God created the chemicals in our brains in just a way so that certain triggers will allow us to physically experience his existence. I shared with him a line from D&C 93 that has helped me a lot: "Spirit and element, inseparable connected, experience a fullness of joy." He gasped and threw his hands up in the air excitedly and said, "Mind blown. That is PERFECT. I love it!"
When we were finishing, he said that he had had a feeling before coming to Taiwan that something big, spiritually speaking, was going to happen to him here. And he said that while he was in our chapel, he felt something. "The spirit, that connection... whatever you call it. I just--I don't know.. I want you to know I really feel closer to God, now."
I felt like I was on a high, after our lesson with him.
Talking to people on the street is so interesting, because there are always so many people and the million tiny decisions we make each minute about who to talk to and what to say can influence eternity. I didn't have to talk to him, or invite him to meet with us. I really, really didn't have to. When I am contacting it is so easy to get discouraged and to not have faith in people. But I'm so thankful for the encouragement I've received from this gospel to keep going, to keep having faith, to keep going out of my comfort zone to do good in the world. It really can make a difference.
I love life. Have a great week!
Diana
Here is a baptism we had this week! Ren Jiemei. She is so cool! I think she is really proud of herself for making it to baptism, and even though she's a little quiet about expressing her feelings, I can tell she has changed so much. Over the past few weeks, when she has decided to get baptized, there has been something so much softer and kinder in her demeanor and in her interactions with us. I wish she were more open so I could know the story in her heart.
And another picture of some friends who came to visit me on Saturday! There is Xiao jiemei, my Taiwanese twin who got baptized in one of my old areas, and another ward member. We are standing in front of the temple, here. It is so hard to have to start saying goodbye, to people. Although it's also a little funny, because it'll be a million times easier to stay in contact with them once I get back and have facebook.
Monday, November 25, 2013
my heart will go on....?
Hey Everyone,
For some reason, this internet cafe has an instrumental version of Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" on repeat. Kind of weird, but I appreciate the reminder, as I going to be breaking up with Taiwan soon.
But life is still so good!
This week I received my last wonderful companion, Sister Chu! I don't know how I've gotten so lucky, but 5 out of the 8 companions I've had on island have been native Taiwanese. I feel I get along with them better than Americans, and I love speaking Chinese all the time, from the groggy early morning to lunch conversations to the happy after-planning talk. I don't know how I'm going to talk to any of you, when I get home. Chinese comes more naturally out of my mouth these days; I catch myself speaking it accidentally to the senior couples or new missionaries who totally don't understand it, and half to correct myself.
Here is a picture of Chu Jiemei and I sitting on my bed, in front of the Christmas tree Mom sent me, which I love so much!! Thank you! The other picture is of me and Vic, who I wrote about last week.
Chu Jiemei and I are always laughing. She is like a child. She says whatever comes out of her mouth, which is sometimes chattery gossip, and sometimes a random song. While she is in the shower she will sing two lines of one hymn and then randomly switch to humming "Happy Birthday' and then thirty seconds later start belting, "You Raise me up!!! so I can stand on mountains!!!" in her cute accent. I love it, it cracks me up, and I am always so curious at how her brain makes these connections.
Lately, in between teaching investigators and talking to strangers who meiyou kong (don't have time to talk), we have been doing a lot of training. This week we had new missionaries come in, and we did some training on dealing with stress in missionary life, and responding to pain the way Christ responded to pain when suffering the atonement. I drew a little diagram that I thought up during studies one day that depicted stress/pain as a heavy weight sitting on top of Christ, and drew another of the same weight sitting on top of the natural man. The Natural man feels it, and resents it, and in resentful response shoots sharp arrows at the world around him, including other people. But Christ is somehow able to bear the weight while still experiencing and sending out love towards the world around him, so I drew little hearts surrounding him. It was cute. Training is really fun; I love thinking of creative ways to teach, like games, or using art, or good discussion questions. We have to give a ton of different trainings, this next transfer.
A random list of things I love about life:
1. Dou Hua. A hot ginger soup with soft, sweet tofu in it. So incredibly SHUFU (comfortable, but that word really can't be adequately translated), Sister Chu and I love to eat it.
2. The Christmas Choir, which I am doing again this year! We start performing next Sunday
3. Chinese puns. Chinese characters lend themselves SO easily to puns, because so many different characters with different meanings are pronounced the same way. A bunch of missionaries in my district were sick last week so I drew them all cards with fun Chinese puns on them. Then I got sick a few days ago, with one of the worst colds I have ever made in my life. (I basically had a fever for three days, but except for one night I was still able to work.) So they made me a cute satirical card with puns and inside jokes on it. Stuff like that makes me so happy!
4. The love I can feel for random people who I just meet on the street, who don't care to talk to me and may even be rude sometimes but it doesn't matter. I still love them.
5. Being close to God. He really is there. Lately I have been stressed about going home and worrying that he won't be there the way he is now, but he has been finding all these ways through scriptures and the words of people around me or analogies I see every day in the movement of birds or water to teach me that he is always there, and always will be, with his arms stretched out still.
Love you all! Happy Thanksgiving! Hope you all have a great week and lots of bread to eat, since we descendants of John Tanner. And I hope it's not gutter bread.
Dai Jiemei
For some reason, this internet cafe has an instrumental version of Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" on repeat. Kind of weird, but I appreciate the reminder, as I going to be breaking up with Taiwan soon.
But life is still so good!
This week I received my last wonderful companion, Sister Chu! I don't know how I've gotten so lucky, but 5 out of the 8 companions I've had on island have been native Taiwanese. I feel I get along with them better than Americans, and I love speaking Chinese all the time, from the groggy early morning to lunch conversations to the happy after-planning talk. I don't know how I'm going to talk to any of you, when I get home. Chinese comes more naturally out of my mouth these days; I catch myself speaking it accidentally to the senior couples or new missionaries who totally don't understand it, and half to correct myself.
Here is a picture of Chu Jiemei and I sitting on my bed, in front of the Christmas tree Mom sent me, which I love so much!! Thank you! The other picture is of me and Vic, who I wrote about last week.
Chu Jiemei and I are always laughing. She is like a child. She says whatever comes out of her mouth, which is sometimes chattery gossip, and sometimes a random song. While she is in the shower she will sing two lines of one hymn and then randomly switch to humming "Happy Birthday' and then thirty seconds later start belting, "You Raise me up!!! so I can stand on mountains!!!" in her cute accent. I love it, it cracks me up, and I am always so curious at how her brain makes these connections.
Lately, in between teaching investigators and talking to strangers who meiyou kong (don't have time to talk), we have been doing a lot of training. This week we had new missionaries come in, and we did some training on dealing with stress in missionary life, and responding to pain the way Christ responded to pain when suffering the atonement. I drew a little diagram that I thought up during studies one day that depicted stress/pain as a heavy weight sitting on top of Christ, and drew another of the same weight sitting on top of the natural man. The Natural man feels it, and resents it, and in resentful response shoots sharp arrows at the world around him, including other people. But Christ is somehow able to bear the weight while still experiencing and sending out love towards the world around him, so I drew little hearts surrounding him. It was cute. Training is really fun; I love thinking of creative ways to teach, like games, or using art, or good discussion questions. We have to give a ton of different trainings, this next transfer.
A random list of things I love about life:
1. Dou Hua. A hot ginger soup with soft, sweet tofu in it. So incredibly SHUFU (comfortable, but that word really can't be adequately translated), Sister Chu and I love to eat it.
2. The Christmas Choir, which I am doing again this year! We start performing next Sunday
3. Chinese puns. Chinese characters lend themselves SO easily to puns, because so many different characters with different meanings are pronounced the same way. A bunch of missionaries in my district were sick last week so I drew them all cards with fun Chinese puns on them. Then I got sick a few days ago, with one of the worst colds I have ever made in my life. (I basically had a fever for three days, but except for one night I was still able to work.) So they made me a cute satirical card with puns and inside jokes on it. Stuff like that makes me so happy!
4. The love I can feel for random people who I just meet on the street, who don't care to talk to me and may even be rude sometimes but it doesn't matter. I still love them.
5. Being close to God. He really is there. Lately I have been stressed about going home and worrying that he won't be there the way he is now, but he has been finding all these ways through scriptures and the words of people around me or analogies I see every day in the movement of birds or water to teach me that he is always there, and always will be, with his arms stretched out still.
Love you all! Happy Thanksgiving! Hope you all have a great week and lots of bread to eat, since we descendants of John Tanner. And I hope it's not gutter bread.
Dai Jiemei
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Vic
Zao an,
A couple nights ago as I was falling asleep, it occurred to me that in six weeks I will be in the Shadow Ridge Ward, giving my homecoming talk. And I thought about all the old ladies in the ward with their nice clothes and cars and spacious houses, and how none of them (or any of you!) know anything about JinHua Jie or DouHua, speak no chinese, and think Asians all look the same.
That was the first time I've cried, about going home. I felt bitter about it for a few minutes, but then I realized it's really stupid to resent something I know needs to happen, and that I don't want to sour the love I've learned to have for life. I'm going to try to just transfer this love to a new place and new faces, when I get back.
I just want you all to know that no matter who I become in the future, no matter what choices I make, and no matter what I say about my mission then, right now, this is where my thoughts are: I LOVE MY MISSION. I love God. I love people. I love Taiwan. I have never been so happy or felt more real, anywhere or anytime in my life. I love teaching, which is basically an excuse to just have sincere, open, interesting conversations with people about things that matter. I love increasing my knowledge and faith in the restored gospel, which I have chosen to have faith in because it clicks so much in my soul, even if I don't understand it all.
Okay, so I told you I would tell you about Vic. You can stop reading now if your are bored, because it might be long. But I have given up feeling guilty for writing long letters. I think it is worse to record too little.
_______________________________________________________
Here is what I wrote in my journal the day I met him, November 6th:
"Sister Oborn and biked for nearly an hour this morning to visit a less active member who ended up not being home. We had climbed up a dusty mountain road lined with quiet houses that was so steep, we had to walk our bikes, at some parts. When we knocked and no one answered, we left a card decided to talk to people in the neighborhood. There weren't many people, just some construction workers and old ladies who spoke Hawkanese, a native Taiwanese dialect, not Mandarin. Everyone we talked to, though, realizing we were American, kept pointing up the hill. Apparently someone who spoke English lived up there, and they said we should go talk to them.
We slowly made our way up the hill, talking to people, until we got to the house they had indicated. We knocked, and waited, but there was no response. Then finally, when we were about to leave, we heard something stir behind the window and suddenly an old Indian man with dark skin, a large hook nose, and white patches of hair on the sides of his head came out to stand on the front porch. "She's not home!" he said, in English. "She's not home, she went to the hospital!"
We didn't even know who "she" was, but we started talking to this guy, who introduced himself as "Vic". Within a few seconds of talking, we learned that hew as a very intelligent, educated man.A scientist, who was born in India and lived 45 years of his life in England. At first he just shared with us casually his his thoughts on America--how it's a terrible place to live and Americans arrogantly think they are the next best thing after sliced bread. (His words). Then the conversation turned to religion. He is Methodist, and believes in God. And yet he said, "I am not sure God believes in me."
He told us how he had been robbed by am investor whose son was a drug addict, and that even though he had always just desired to give to the people around him, he had not necessarily received good in return. He had studied Hinduism as a child, and later Buddhism, Islam, and finally Christianity. "I believe in God," he said, "But like I said, I am not sure any more than God believes in me."
At first, Sister Oborn and I wanted to pipe up with our practiced missionary tones, but every time we tried to squeak about God's love or prayer, Vic would talk over us. He was clearly not in listening mode, and something about the wrinkles around his dark eyes, the dust in the air around us, and that deep, skeptical tone of his voice told me that it was my turn to listen. So I did. He told us about how he despise that religion often became a business, that priests were paid and drove in fancy cars and work rings and pricey watches while Christ wore a simple robe. He said his friends would tease him for dressing so plain when he could easily afford to wear classier things, but a $500 dollar pair of jeans would cover his knees as well as the old, slightly frayed jeans he was wearing right then. He said that there were many faces to God. THe story of live, no matter what face we turn to, is that we are born, we have to grow, we have to figure out how to care for our families, ourselves, and those around us. Then we die. He said he was learned to just thank God in prayer, and to ask for nothing. He said he is now willing to simply submit to God's will.
He said, "You've got to believe in yourselves!"
Before we left, I thanked him for talking to us, for sharing his wisdom. He joked about how I would bike down the hill and forget about him, (he reminded me so much of Dad!) so I told him I would write about him in my journal, and I took a picture. Then I asked if we could say a prayer.
In my prayer, I thanked God that Sister Oborn and I were able to meet Vic. I thanked him for all the simple blessings he has given us of health, family, and knowledge. I thanked him for Vic's example of sacrifice and service, and asked that he might feel peace about his efforts to give to the world. I told God that even though there was so much we don't understand about him and about why life is the way it is, that we believed in goodness. I told him we would continue to let our believe in goodness guide us every day. And I could barely speak because my throat was so full of tears. I really, truly believed in God, in that moment."
So yeah, that was my story with Vic. It may seem like a faith-shaking thing, but I remember the feeling of praying on his doorstep, and I felt this powerful warmth of God's love and acknowledgment of the three of us. It was so incredibly faith-promoting, to me. I love Vic, and all the good people in the world. And I want to be like him, to keep believing in God and in myself even if the world doesn't believe in him or in themselves enough. I love being on a mission because things like this happen that just feel like the movies.
Have a great week!
Diana
A couple nights ago as I was falling asleep, it occurred to me that in six weeks I will be in the Shadow Ridge Ward, giving my homecoming talk. And I thought about all the old ladies in the ward with their nice clothes and cars and spacious houses, and how none of them (or any of you!) know anything about JinHua Jie or DouHua, speak no chinese, and think Asians all look the same.
That was the first time I've cried, about going home. I felt bitter about it for a few minutes, but then I realized it's really stupid to resent something I know needs to happen, and that I don't want to sour the love I've learned to have for life. I'm going to try to just transfer this love to a new place and new faces, when I get back.
I just want you all to know that no matter who I become in the future, no matter what choices I make, and no matter what I say about my mission then, right now, this is where my thoughts are: I LOVE MY MISSION. I love God. I love people. I love Taiwan. I have never been so happy or felt more real, anywhere or anytime in my life. I love teaching, which is basically an excuse to just have sincere, open, interesting conversations with people about things that matter. I love increasing my knowledge and faith in the restored gospel, which I have chosen to have faith in because it clicks so much in my soul, even if I don't understand it all.
Okay, so I told you I would tell you about Vic. You can stop reading now if your are bored, because it might be long. But I have given up feeling guilty for writing long letters. I think it is worse to record too little.
_______________________________________________________
Here is what I wrote in my journal the day I met him, November 6th:
"Sister Oborn and biked for nearly an hour this morning to visit a less active member who ended up not being home. We had climbed up a dusty mountain road lined with quiet houses that was so steep, we had to walk our bikes, at some parts. When we knocked and no one answered, we left a card decided to talk to people in the neighborhood. There weren't many people, just some construction workers and old ladies who spoke Hawkanese, a native Taiwanese dialect, not Mandarin. Everyone we talked to, though, realizing we were American, kept pointing up the hill. Apparently someone who spoke English lived up there, and they said we should go talk to them.
We slowly made our way up the hill, talking to people, until we got to the house they had indicated. We knocked, and waited, but there was no response. Then finally, when we were about to leave, we heard something stir behind the window and suddenly an old Indian man with dark skin, a large hook nose, and white patches of hair on the sides of his head came out to stand on the front porch. "She's not home!" he said, in English. "She's not home, she went to the hospital!"
We didn't even know who "she" was, but we started talking to this guy, who introduced himself as "Vic". Within a few seconds of talking, we learned that hew as a very intelligent, educated man.A scientist, who was born in India and lived 45 years of his life in England. At first he just shared with us casually his his thoughts on America--how it's a terrible place to live and Americans arrogantly think they are the next best thing after sliced bread. (His words). Then the conversation turned to religion. He is Methodist, and believes in God. And yet he said, "I am not sure God believes in me."
He told us how he had been robbed by am investor whose son was a drug addict, and that even though he had always just desired to give to the people around him, he had not necessarily received good in return. He had studied Hinduism as a child, and later Buddhism, Islam, and finally Christianity. "I believe in God," he said, "But like I said, I am not sure any more than God believes in me."
At first, Sister Oborn and I wanted to pipe up with our practiced missionary tones, but every time we tried to squeak about God's love or prayer, Vic would talk over us. He was clearly not in listening mode, and something about the wrinkles around his dark eyes, the dust in the air around us, and that deep, skeptical tone of his voice told me that it was my turn to listen. So I did. He told us about how he despise that religion often became a business, that priests were paid and drove in fancy cars and work rings and pricey watches while Christ wore a simple robe. He said his friends would tease him for dressing so plain when he could easily afford to wear classier things, but a $500 dollar pair of jeans would cover his knees as well as the old, slightly frayed jeans he was wearing right then. He said that there were many faces to God. THe story of live, no matter what face we turn to, is that we are born, we have to grow, we have to figure out how to care for our families, ourselves, and those around us. Then we die. He said he was learned to just thank God in prayer, and to ask for nothing. He said he is now willing to simply submit to God's will.
He said, "You've got to believe in yourselves!"
Before we left, I thanked him for talking to us, for sharing his wisdom. He joked about how I would bike down the hill and forget about him, (he reminded me so much of Dad!) so I told him I would write about him in my journal, and I took a picture. Then I asked if we could say a prayer.
In my prayer, I thanked God that Sister Oborn and I were able to meet Vic. I thanked him for all the simple blessings he has given us of health, family, and knowledge. I thanked him for Vic's example of sacrifice and service, and asked that he might feel peace about his efforts to give to the world. I told God that even though there was so much we don't understand about him and about why life is the way it is, that we believed in goodness. I told him we would continue to let our believe in goodness guide us every day. And I could barely speak because my throat was so full of tears. I really, truly believed in God, in that moment."
So yeah, that was my story with Vic. It may seem like a faith-shaking thing, but I remember the feeling of praying on his doorstep, and I felt this powerful warmth of God's love and acknowledgment of the three of us. It was so incredibly faith-promoting, to me. I love Vic, and all the good people in the world. And I want to be like him, to keep believing in God and in myself even if the world doesn't believe in him or in themselves enough. I love being on a mission because things like this happen that just feel like the movies.
Have a great week!
Diana
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
chouxiang de dongxi
Zao An,
This week was possibly even more full than last week. I went on exchanges every day from Tuesday to Saturday, basically getting a tour of all the cities on the Northwest coast of Taiwan. This week was really tiring, but good. So much traveling, so much thinking, so much talking to strangers.
Most missionaries hate what is called "finding time"--when we don't have lessons planned so we go contact people outside strip malls or at metro stations, or go knock on their doors. I used to not like it much, but now even though it is still certainly uncomfortable, I find it so immensely rewarding. I have to be so intellectually and spiritually on my toes. I have to be constantly thinking about who the various people are who I meet, and how to make the gospel make sense to them, and how to say that in Chinese. But it isn't just about rhetoric and translation--I have to have my heart right, to do "finding time" well. I have to feel in my heart the existence of God and his love for the people I meet. If my heart isn't right, I can't think of anything to say, or else whatever I say feels so hollow.
Remind me to tell you all about this man I met this week, named Vic. I will never forget him. I hope not, at least, because I promised him I would never forget him. Next week I will tell you about him, okay?
Sometimes I am so compelled by Buddhist philosophy. When we are contacting, it becomes apparent how differently they see the world. They are so perfectly okay with multiple realities existing--with Christ being my God and Buddha being theirs. They aren't on the quest for the one true phenomenological reality that Westerner's are on the search for. While missionaries in America probably discuss whether or not Joseph Smith's first vision really occurred, here the question is not whether it occurred but whether it matters.
Buddhism is appealing to me because I hate telling people they might be wrong. I hate being so arrogant as to assume I know how this old man should think about the pain he's seen in his life or what this young girl should dream about before she falls asleep each night. Adopting a single narrative of what life is about and what things are good in life is a scary, brave, bold thing to do.
And yet... The alternative isn't pretty, either. Last night I was praying about this question. And It really is so beautiful to me how God can guide my thoughts and I can learn things from prayer that I literally did not know before I started speaking to him in my heart. As I was pondering, I came to two conclusions that seemed so important to me at 11:00 at night that even in the dark, I grabbed my journal and a pen from off my desk and wrote them down in extremely messy handwriting. Here they are:
1) Buddhist thought renders my daily actions meaningless. Whenever I am most compelled by Buddhism, I also tend to be the most relaxed/lazy in my actions. Why does it matter whether I talk to this person on the street about the gospel, or write a card to this ward member whose Mom died, or comfort my companion who is in a bad mood? Aren't we all just on different paths to nothingness? Service becomes really meaningless because there isn't any agreed way to serve, any need that we agree should be fulfilled. Even though I get scared when I think of the big picture, and what it means to have such a singular perspective on life, I really can't honestly agree that the small picture things--like whether I scowl at my companion or tell her I love her, right now--don't matter. They do, and they make such a difference.
2) Buddhist thought severely limits our experience of happiness. (I guess that is the point; it escapes suffering by escaping all judgments in life about what is good and bad, what is happy and unhappy.) Why does it matter whether or not my companion and I get along, whether or not this tired mother finds comfort in the scriptures we share with her, whether or not our investigator receives answer to her prayer? I am not able to find joy in even these simple things, as a Buddhist, because none of those things are REALLY good, they are just one dialogue among many for what good is. From a perspective of a God who wants us to experience happiness, it seems that we need to one extent or another to adopt a singular perspective of what happiness is, and that reach for that.
The other thing that just gets me at the end of the day is that I love God. I really, really believe in him, and that goodness is closeness to him. I have learned on my mission that faith has nothing to do with the strength of our rhetoric when we are bearing our testimonies, (I always personally feel more comfortable with the word "believe" rather than "know"), as it does with the moment to moment trust we put in him to show us how to live well. Sometimes I trick myself into thinking that if I can figure out the big picture of life somehow I can escape the vulnerability of living day to day by faith. I can't. But that's okay! Because nothing is sweeter than living by faith with him. It's a kind of happiness I never understand or really experienced before my mission, and I hope I can always sustain it in my life. I get scared of saying I know what happiness is, because of the reasons I stated above, and yet in my life I am so sure I know what has made me happy and made my bad moods shorter and my relationships with others better--and it really is the gospel of Jesus Christ. I wish I could express to you all the tiny prayers answered and the little thigns that just click, but it's impossible to express it all. Just know that even though I have my lost moments like we all do, in the end I really, really do believe.
Sorry for once again sending you all a really long and abstract letter. Hope it was at least interesting.
Sister Brown
This week was possibly even more full than last week. I went on exchanges every day from Tuesday to Saturday, basically getting a tour of all the cities on the Northwest coast of Taiwan. This week was really tiring, but good. So much traveling, so much thinking, so much talking to strangers.
Most missionaries hate what is called "finding time"--when we don't have lessons planned so we go contact people outside strip malls or at metro stations, or go knock on their doors. I used to not like it much, but now even though it is still certainly uncomfortable, I find it so immensely rewarding. I have to be so intellectually and spiritually on my toes. I have to be constantly thinking about who the various people are who I meet, and how to make the gospel make sense to them, and how to say that in Chinese. But it isn't just about rhetoric and translation--I have to have my heart right, to do "finding time" well. I have to feel in my heart the existence of God and his love for the people I meet. If my heart isn't right, I can't think of anything to say, or else whatever I say feels so hollow.
Remind me to tell you all about this man I met this week, named Vic. I will never forget him. I hope not, at least, because I promised him I would never forget him. Next week I will tell you about him, okay?
Sometimes I am so compelled by Buddhist philosophy. When we are contacting, it becomes apparent how differently they see the world. They are so perfectly okay with multiple realities existing--with Christ being my God and Buddha being theirs. They aren't on the quest for the one true phenomenological reality that Westerner's are on the search for. While missionaries in America probably discuss whether or not Joseph Smith's first vision really occurred, here the question is not whether it occurred but whether it matters.
Buddhism is appealing to me because I hate telling people they might be wrong. I hate being so arrogant as to assume I know how this old man should think about the pain he's seen in his life or what this young girl should dream about before she falls asleep each night. Adopting a single narrative of what life is about and what things are good in life is a scary, brave, bold thing to do.
And yet... The alternative isn't pretty, either. Last night I was praying about this question. And It really is so beautiful to me how God can guide my thoughts and I can learn things from prayer that I literally did not know before I started speaking to him in my heart. As I was pondering, I came to two conclusions that seemed so important to me at 11:00 at night that even in the dark, I grabbed my journal and a pen from off my desk and wrote them down in extremely messy handwriting. Here they are:
1) Buddhist thought renders my daily actions meaningless. Whenever I am most compelled by Buddhism, I also tend to be the most relaxed/lazy in my actions. Why does it matter whether I talk to this person on the street about the gospel, or write a card to this ward member whose Mom died, or comfort my companion who is in a bad mood? Aren't we all just on different paths to nothingness? Service becomes really meaningless because there isn't any agreed way to serve, any need that we agree should be fulfilled. Even though I get scared when I think of the big picture, and what it means to have such a singular perspective on life, I really can't honestly agree that the small picture things--like whether I scowl at my companion or tell her I love her, right now--don't matter. They do, and they make such a difference.
2) Buddhist thought severely limits our experience of happiness. (I guess that is the point; it escapes suffering by escaping all judgments in life about what is good and bad, what is happy and unhappy.) Why does it matter whether or not my companion and I get along, whether or not this tired mother finds comfort in the scriptures we share with her, whether or not our investigator receives answer to her prayer? I am not able to find joy in even these simple things, as a Buddhist, because none of those things are REALLY good, they are just one dialogue among many for what good is. From a perspective of a God who wants us to experience happiness, it seems that we need to one extent or another to adopt a singular perspective of what happiness is, and that reach for that.
The other thing that just gets me at the end of the day is that I love God. I really, really believe in him, and that goodness is closeness to him. I have learned on my mission that faith has nothing to do with the strength of our rhetoric when we are bearing our testimonies, (I always personally feel more comfortable with the word "believe" rather than "know"), as it does with the moment to moment trust we put in him to show us how to live well. Sometimes I trick myself into thinking that if I can figure out the big picture of life somehow I can escape the vulnerability of living day to day by faith. I can't. But that's okay! Because nothing is sweeter than living by faith with him. It's a kind of happiness I never understand or really experienced before my mission, and I hope I can always sustain it in my life. I get scared of saying I know what happiness is, because of the reasons I stated above, and yet in my life I am so sure I know what has made me happy and made my bad moods shorter and my relationships with others better--and it really is the gospel of Jesus Christ. I wish I could express to you all the tiny prayers answered and the little thigns that just click, but it's impossible to express it all. Just know that even though I have my lost moments like we all do, in the end I really, really do believe.
Sorry for once again sending you all a really long and abstract letter. Hope it was at least interesting.
Sister Brown
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