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

Rainy Days

Dear Everyone,

 

This was a very rainy, wet, but wonderful week. I think I have seen more rain in Taiwan already than I have in Utah my whole life. And by the way, if you ever get called on a mission to Taiwan and ask people who have been there if it gets cold, and they tell you, "Of course not, it's an island!", DON'T TRUST THEM!!! Especially if they weren't a missionary. Rainy weather takes on a totally different meaning when it's not just something you see out the window--you have to go on a half-hour bike ride through it right now. And even though you have this tarp-like rain suit you put on, your shoes and tights, the bottom of your skirt, and the bangs of your hair sticking out of your helmet will be soaked and damp all day. I come home and change into mercifully dry clothes at the end of the day and stick my poor white feet in front of my space heater. They look like they do after going swimming. haha.

 

But seriously, it's amazing how much I don't care, while we are actually out there in the rain. And in fact, sometimes it's the happiest times. There is a point of surrender at the first stop light when you realize all your attempts to stay dry, warm, and clean-looking have been cancelled out for the rest of the day, but that you love Taiwan anyway. And all the puddles you glide through and the constant downpour of more water than can possibly exist in the world are just cause to laugh. I'm serious. Maybe my energy and adoration for things will wear off after a while, but for right now all the rain's discomforts just add charm and uniqueness to my experience in Taiwan. I think just in general, there is an innocent sweetness that graces all the challenges and discomforts we have every day. A heart that wants to be cheerful and loving can find a lot of surprising things to be cheerful and loving towards.

 

Another of our investigators, Chen Wei Ting got baptized on Friday! Six times, actually, because her hair kept floating up. I felt so bad for her. Several times during lessons with her, she brought up how she really didn't want the water to be cold for her baptism, so we made extra care to check the water heater that day. The Elders told us they had turned it on. But they did it wrong somehow, and it was ice water that filled up the font. She figured it out before the baptism, and we apologized and consoled her by saying, "Don't worry, you will only be there for about a minute, max--it goes really fast." But she was in there for probably over five minutes by the time she was properly baptized. It was cool, though, to see that despite the realization of our empty promise to her she still had this determined look on her face that stayed until it was over.

 

One of the best parts of this week was going on exchanges with Sister Sutton! For those of you who don't know, going on exchanges means you switch companions with missionaries in a neigboring area for 24 hours. They are very educational for interrupting the routines you sometimes get in, and show you how other missionaries work and teach. Sister Nicole Sutton is the person I started talking about approximately two seconds after I read where I was going. I still remember shrieking, "Oh my gosh, I'm going to Nicole's mission!!" We basically have the cutest friendship ever. I got to know her over a year ago when I was the TA for a sociology class she was taking. One night after a review session, we were walking home together (and I later learned that the way we walked was only convenient for me, it was out of the way for her--but she walked with me anyway. She was then and still is, a very thoughtful friend.) And we confessed to each other that we both were thinking of going on missions. We shared with each other why we wanted to go, what our worries about it were, etc. and built each other up. Then a couple of months later she emailed me saying she was going to the Taiwan Taipei mission. My first thought was, "Woah, how exotic! And poor girl, she has to learn to speak Mandarin." And then a few months later I opened my call and read that I was going to the same Taiwan Taipei mission.

 

It was seriously really cool, to be companions with her, and think about how different life is for us now than it was a year ago. Our heads have a lot less sociology and a lot more gospel and Chinese in them than they used to, and our legs are a lot more muscled. Our reality together used to be discussing Marx and Weber in front of white-boards and speculating our futures in front of the Clyde building on BYU campus; but now our reality together involves biking over freeway bridges with dozens of people on scooters, striking up conversations with strangers in a language we barely speak, struggling to decipher the characters on restaurant menus so we can figure out what to eat for lunch. It's really cool to see how life can be so, so different than it was--but you can keep going. You find that you can live without some things (or even some people) you thought you could never live without. And you find joy in things you never thought to have joy in before. It's sobering, because when you love something or someone or some place you want to believe there is no other way to be than close to it/them. But it is inspiring, too, to see how adjustable we are, in the end.

 

Life is really, really good. It is just as hard and nuanced with those tough, crucial moments of having to accept and love people and responsibilities you don't want to accept and love, but the closer I feel to my savior, the more motivation there is to do it. I wish I could say all the reasons why in my heart, but there aren't enough words. Still. Just know I really believe in God.

 

Diana

Lovely Messes

Hello everyone!

 

Thank you so much to those of you who wrote to me! It is so great to hear about your lives and the challenges/opportunities that fill them. Jeffrey, that is so awesome you are finishing up your mission papers! Still not-so-secretly hoping you will come join me in Taiwan. It is going to be so exciting seeing what changes happen because of the missionary ages. All of us are now aware of several 18-year-old boys and 19-year-old sisters who are coming next Spring to our mission. We are all pretty much guaranteed to be trainers because the numbers of incoming sisters are going to increase so much. I'm a bit worried about that experience... I think I definitely make a more mature missionary now than I would have at 19... But everything will work out, we'll deal with things as they come up.

 

This week I experienced my first break up as a missionary. A break up occurs when you have been meeting with an investigator for some time, and then they decide it is not working out. They don't want what you are trying to offer them. So they contact you some way--sometimes on the phone, sometimes in a letter, and sometimes in person--to tell you that they need a break, the timing isn't right, it isn't going where they thought it was going, etc. And we snifffle andrespond with the hurt but understanding, "we respect your decision" and "is there anything we can do to change your mind?" We leave the door open if they ever want to come back. "Moroni's promise is still true, you know..." 

 

It was Joanna that broke up with us. She hadn't seen us in about a month. It was really sad. She started crying and telling us about how things had been so hard in her family--her brother had died and her parents divorced in the past year. She said that usually her life with school and work kept her really busy but during lessons with us she felt she had to slow down and "tcouh things she didn't want to touch". And she felt like the answers she had received from prayer, that maybe she gave those to herself and they weren't really from God after all.

 

I felt super awkward dealing with the whole thing but I tried to do my best. I still feel a bit sad about it. Sad for her; she really is having a hard time with life. At the same time, I am pretty optimistic about God's ability to make really sad things be okay. Also, the whole experience does have a tinge of humor for me because of really how similar it was to a relationship break up.

 

I ate goose liver this week. It was terrible. TERRIBLE. The texture of liver is dense and slimy, and goose has this very strong flavor that I haven't gotten used to yet. The aftertaste was the worst part, though. It came in a sudden wave after I had swallowed--this rancid flavor swelling in my mouth. But, I don't regret trying it.

 

What else happened this week? Just the usual. Biking across town, up hills and down hills to lessons or meetings. Having my mind blown open by studying the scriptures. Trying to figure out how to navigate the inexpressible gaps in communication between me and God, me and my companion, me and investigators. Laughing with Sister Kang. I love her so much. I feel like our friendship has really started growing into something more tangible, lately. Which is sad, because transfers are in two weeks and it is very likely that I will be moving, since I will be technically done with my trainining period (the first 12 weeks of your mission.)

 

Lately I have been thinking about how much I want to treasure every moment in Taiwan as if it is my last day to live. Sometimes I have moments that blow me away with their utter uniqueness and value--like sitting in a rusty blue drink shack off the side of a highway, trying to share Book of Mormon of Mormon scriptures with a family who was slightly drunk. They gave us cans of coca cola because it was the only W.O.W. approved substance they sold, but we just continued clutching them in our cold fingers continue clutching in our laps because we were fasting that day.

 

Or another time, meeting with a very old, curly-haired lady in her video game shop that didn't sell anything newer than a bright yellow gameboy color. She had shelves and shelves of old, dusty nintendo games, action figures, and game systems that were probably cool before I was born. Her shop is in the middle of a very quiet street where it seems only old people hobble around. It's hard to imagine her ever having a single customer. We met with her because an elder in our district insisted she was "golden"--(long story)--but we met with her to find she only knew a little bit of Mandarin. Many old people here only speak Taiwanese, a language more native to this island. She got that we were Christian, though, so she gave us glasses of unsweetened barley tea to sip while she turned on a track of a really dramatic preacher reading from the bible in Taiwanese.

 

I really never want to forget these experiences. There is something so precious about the idea of us young, naive American girls coming in contact with these people in the smallest corners of Taiwan, and trying to communicate. They are precious for so many reasons. In part because a year ago I never, ever had had such experiences and now they fill my days. In part because these people are just so good and valuable--just as valuable as I am. In part because they are metaphors for the struggles of learning, problem-solving, and communication that affect all of us every day. We find ourselvs confronted with things we have never seen before, tasks we don't know how to accomplish. Every day is a foreign country, if we're really keeping our eyes open. But we plow through these challenges anyway because it is the only thing to be done. Our efforts are inevitably imperfect, tainted with our own weaknesses and short-sighted understanding, but when we decide to just dive in and deal with it we find things get done anyway. Or if they don't get done, at least we tried!

 

One of the coolest things I've learned from being on a mission is that if you try, things will get done, even if you don't think you are capable of trying. There have been so many moments  when I've been pushed to have to talk to people, to teach lessons, to express ideas that at the outset I literally feel I have no ability to do. Sister Kang will hand me the phone to handle a certain call, or I will be put in a room alone with an investigator because my companion has to teach someone else. And while inside I'm screaming, "No, you don't get it, I REALLY don't know how to say that in Chinese!" or "Don't you remember I've only been in Taiwan for a few weeks?" I also realize that the seconds are mounting up, and I have to open my mouth. So I do it. There's no time to think too hard or to plan. And whatever happens, happens, and you just deal with that as it comes up.

 

But it's really cool. I have found I have been able to do things I literally thought I was incapable of doing. I have learned that there really isn't any time to wait and plan what a perfect missionary would do and then do it. There is no such thing as a perfect missionary, or perfect missionary work. Every word and movement is colored with our imperfections and our current state of being. But rather than those indicating some grave deficiency, even those--strangely and beautifully--have a place in the task of getting things done. For example, sometimes I think people say yes, they will meet with us, because they get that my Chinese isn't strong enough to understand any excuse they try to give me.

 

I don't know. It's all just really cool. And I like thinking about how God knows all this--he is so much more aware of how little we know what we are doing than we ourselves are. But he is obviously okay with that fact. He is obviously okay with people even younger than us doing this same work. He knows we are going to make messes but he is okay with that. It seems like maybe we learn more from just dealing with the messes the best we know how in the moment than sitting back, talking about the messes and hating them so bad that we make ourselves miserable.

 

Okay, got to go. Love you all!

 

Diana

Quiet Moments

Hello everyone!

 

As usual, thank you for the letters and emails and support I feel from all of you on that side of the world. Friends and family, both. I think I have gotten over the sense of desperation for contact with you all, such that if it doesn't come I am still doing okay, but it is still just so, so nice.

 

Although maybe I'm not over that. This week was interesting. Definltely different from the routine--Sister Kang had a little bike accident last Tuesday night that interrupted our whole weekly schedule. She broke too hard going down a hill and tumbled over her bike, scraping her legs and arms pretty bad, and landing on her back. (The same thing happened to me about a month ago but not as bad--thankfully these were good reminders never to get too comfortable and take for granted all the times we do travel safely.)

 

Anyway, the next morning she could barely sit or stand because her back was hurting so bad, so we spent the whole day in the hopsital. (This is socialized health care for you--we spent quite some time waiting in lines, but in the end her whole check up and the painkillers only cost $20 dollars.) And the next few days she wasn't feeling well enough to go out as much as we normally would. When we did go out, I was basically senior companion. I handled all the little things from the keys to the cell phone to the big things like leading in all the lessons. It was definitely challenging but I really, truly felt like Heavenly Father blessed me with the clarity of mind, the spirit, and the Chinese necessary to do what I need to do.

 

There was a lot more thinking time than usual, this week, since Sister Kang was resting a lot. It didn't seem like I should rest just because she was, so I would wake up at 6:30 as usual, do yoga (so fun--especially now that I have muscles!) and then study the rest of the time. I can't believe I ever felt like ten minutes of scripture study every day was enough. I feel so thirsty, so thirsty for those beloved hours spent in the scriptures and study jounral each morning, and am always wanting to stretch them to last longer. Recently I have been reading the New Testament in conjunction with Jesus the Christ. I also read old conference talks, read sections of the other standard works, and I write a lot in my study journal. Sometimes little notes, sometimes quotes I like, and sometimes entire essays on the things I am learning. Studying is the best thing ever.

 

Anyway, one of theses times when SIster Kang was resting, I was feeling a little lost and purposeless--wanting to do something productive but not being able to. I opened up that book that Mary put together before I left with pictures and goodbye notes from everyone. I started in the back, and read notes from Colby, Tianne, Gabe, Robby, Camille, such good friends I have been blessed with. Then I got to the family section. I saw Bill's picture and started crying and crying. In his note to me he said that I was a good example to him or something like that. Basically he expressed the idea that I was a valuable human being and had made a positive impact on him. Haha. But seriously, it was the most beautiful thing to me. I realized how much I had been needing to hear that--that I was doing an okay job at life.

 

The loneliness of missionary life is very hard but cleansing. Sister Kang and I talk to so many people each day, but the truth is they all live in a very differently-constructed reality than we do. Most people who see us or talk to us each day have no idea what is actually in our hearts, what our lives are actually like. I am sure they have no idea, whenever they talk to us, about what we are actually thinking right then--about how our gospels--these deep, precious ideas and experiences that mean something to us--can bless their lives. They usually think we are students or are getting paid to proselyte. Overcoming this barrier of communication to get ourselves on the same page is often humorous, fun, challenging, rewarding, but certainly lonely. And even between Sister Kang and I, there is a type of loneliness for sure. We are both a bit on the quieter side of personalities. My training experience hasn't been one in which I've been constantly coddled and complimented. It's been one where I have had to take initiative and go and do--even though I have no idea most of the time what I'm doing and usually don't get sufficient feedback on how I am doing. Or perhaps it is that the feedback I do get--"Your Chinese is really getting better" or, "Thanks for taking the lesson in that direction" is just not big enough to cover and confirm all the huge leaps of faith and sacrifice I take each day in my heart.

 

So anyway, reading letters from the family in that book meant so much to me and gave me a sense of peace that I am an okay person.

 

But really, the beauty of this kind of life can't be taken for granted. I cherish so much all these moments of in-my-heart decision-making when literlaly only myself and Heavenly Father know about and will ever know about. I cherish so much the humility I have been able to feel. Those nights when I pray and my thoughts follow the track of I don't know if I have given all I can, I hope I have, maybe I could have done this better or that---and all of a sudden this peace comes to me, because the fact that I am having this struggle in my mind shows that my heart is in the right place. And that he loves me for that. And that love that will grace my heart in some moments  is real and the sweetest thing in the world, especially when its source--Heavnly Father--is the sole witness to all the hurts of my days. All the reasons I need that love.

 

On Saturday we had our first performance for the Christmas program. It was a little rough, musically. We are not all real musicians, and some of us (cough) who once thought we were musicians do find their fingers not moving as smoothly and fluidly as they once did. But the wonderful thing is that Taiwan doesn't care! They think anyone who tries is so amazing, and clap after every performance, even in the chapel! It is really refreshing, to feel like you can play for an audience of people who love you instead of people who will cry in their hearts because you were 1/38th of an inch flat on that high E.

 

To go along with the humility theme; last Saturday at the Christmas program I got in a conversation with an Elder who apparently saw my band "Searching for Celia" perform a long time ago. Probably in our early days. So of course we got to talking about Velour, and music we liked, and then people around us starting being like, "You played in a band? Oh my gosh how cool you are awesome et cetera!" And all of a sudden my head was full of pink puffy clouds and I started thinking, "Yeah.... maybe I am awesome et cetera!" But ithose thoughts tasted as toxic as they were delicious. It made me reflect on how distracted from God and prideful it is easy to become. I am so, so afraid of falling back into that when I get home and losing this clarity of heart that I have right now. It really is a gift to live in a lonely, quiet world where you don't rely on others for approval because you can't--they're not there!

 

I feel like my letters talk so much about myself, and not enough about the wonderful people I get to meet each day. Sorry! This one has been nice because I've been working out a lot of my thoughts. Thanks for being patient with my rambling. Sorry for my crappy English.

 

But here is a story to leave you on. Last night we met with Xu JieMei (JieMei=Sister, Xu is her last name.) She is an older woman--probably in her 50's--who is very strong willed and talkative. She loves SIster Kang and I a lot, always telling us we are like her daughters and bringing us fruit or chocolate every time we meet with her. She is one of our investigators who really gets it, I think. She has been through all of the lessons but doesn't want to commit to getting baptized because she doesn't feel strong enough. She doesn't often come to church because her sons tease her so much about it. She wants to wait until she feels she has the faith to obey all the commandments before she commits. We have been trying to focus our lessons on things we can do to build her faith and her personal relationship with God. Last night, we decided to watch "the Testaments" with her. So we sat in front of the TV in a room in the chapel, drank hot chocolate, and watched Jesus perform miracles and Jacob flirt with Laneah and pillars crush bad guys and all that. Xu Jiemei was glued to the screen, and her reactions were like a little child's--she would jump with surprise at some points and make a little emotional noise that I couldn't tell was a laugh or a cry.  My favorite part was when Christ appeared to Mary Magdalene at the garden tomb, and she cried out in a choked, but excited voice, "Ta you fuhuo le!" (He resurrected!) And at the end she was crying and crying. (So was I.) She kept saying afterwards that Heavnly Father had answered her prayers, and she knew what she needed to do. She gave the most beautiful, heartfelt prayer I have ever heard an investigator give. It was so beautiful to be a part of that.

 

I really love being a missionary. Really.

I love you all so much! Thanks for everything you have all done for me. Take care!

 

Sister Brown

Ganen! (Gratitute)‏

Hello everyone!

 

Thank you so much to everyone who wrote to me! Including cousin Heather--your letter came in the mail just at the time I needed it. Thank you so much.

 

All of you will be together with family having Thanksgiving this week, I assume! How lucky. I really miss you all, and the connections and convesrations I had with family and friends back home that I sometimes crave for out here. But if there is anything I have learned, it is that you can really get used to anything. And if I choose to just accept my situation--such as the fact that I only communicate with you all once a week--and just go on with life, it really isn't that bad. So don't feel too sorry for me. :)

 

Besides, I actually did get a sort of Thanksgiving dinner last Saturday! The XinZhuang ward put together a "Ganenjie huodong" (Thanksgiving activity.)  The advertisement for it mainly came in the form of "Women hui yiqi chi huoji!" (We will eat Turkey together!) Most people have never tried turkey, here! And wow, seeing the turkey come out in the kitchen at the chapel was hilarious. There were dozens and dozens of people crowding around the tables, which had turkey, mashed potatoes, rolls. sweet potatoes (which are very plentiful and amazing, here in Taiwan), gravy, stuffing, and then countless other Taiwanese foods--noodles, vegetable dishes, fishball soup, readbean soup, etc. After the blessing on the food a really loud man yelled, "Wait! Before we eat, we need an announcement on how to eat the turkey! We don't know how!" The turkey was not in turkey form at this point, it was cut and shredded and put on plates. I was thinking, "Um, you just put it in your bowl and eat it, like you do with chicken and pork." But the bishop's wife then proceeded with a demonstration of how you could cut open a roll, put the turkey inside, and poor gravy on top of the turkey for a sandwich. Or you could put all the Thanksgiving food in your bowl and poor gravy over the top of it. Many people opted for this alternative, and had so much gravy in their bowls that it looked just like soup. Probably more people, though, just went straight for the Taiwanese food. It was hilarious. I thought it was so cute.

 

So yeah, it was a little different--eaten with chopsticks from a bowl--but I got a little Thanksgiving dinner! It was actually really good, and it was the homiest thing I have eaten since I left for the MTC. It reminded me so much of Mom's food!

 

As for non-homey things, this week I ate squid (including the tentacles) and octopus balls. (Sort of like octopus sausage. It was very chewy, and bounced off my teeth when I tried to bite it.) I was so proud of myself!

 

This week was a harder one, for me. It's always hard to articulate why. It wasn't exactly that, but it wasn't that, either... Really, when I'm being honest with myself I think whenever I have problems, the root of it is that I am focusing too much on myself. Last week I just crashed with exhaustion, I started asking myself things like, "When do I get a break? I have been working so hard, I think I deserve a break." And as soon as entitlement creeps in, it recasts the world around me into something that cries injustice. The wet narrow streets of Taiwan are no longer full of wonder but are a lonely, trapping landscape. My companion is no longer an interesting friend who I want to serve and get to know better, but someone who has done X,Y, and Z to hurt me. Even those early morning between-sleep thoughts which are sometimes filled with excitement and joy at a new day start to be so heavy and burdensome.

 

And how interesting that sometimes I even take it out on God. It's interesting to think about the ways that I do that. Henry B. Eyring's talk in the last conference explained a really deep philosophical point in religious terms, that I think is so true of me. He talked about the tendency, when there is a pavillion between us and God, for us to think God has forsaken us, is terribly-displeased with us, and if we take it far enough--perhaps that he doesn't even exist. But the cause of the pavillion is never God, it is our own weaknesses, prides, and sins that prevent us from seeing him clearly. I know that for me, the more selfish I am, the more prideful I am, the more I insist that all the ways I am currently making sense of my world are correct and will never change--the less clearly I see his hand in his life. The less I even seek his hand in my life!

 

I am not afraid to admit that doubt creeps up at times, as it did a couple of times this week. Okay, actually sometimes I'm very afraid to admit that but right now I'm feeling brave. I think it's important to admit--because the idea that our current beliefs/view of reality are static and fixed, (i.e. that because I have experienced God and have had a testimony of him in the past, I always will) is an ideology of knowledge that leads us to misunderstand our relationship with God and stop seeking continual light and knowledge from him. I really, really believe that our vision of reality--including our vision of God, and what type of person he is--is dependent on our current moral way of being. And just like selfishness and entitlement can recast my entire world into something that speaks to how I deserve better, turning away from God will of course cast our world into one in which he has a smaller place. We are constantly remaking our worlds with the thoughts and desires we choose to pursue.

 

So is there any right way? Well, I think the answer is in Moroni 7. All of us are given the light of Christ. He tells us to search diligently in the light of Christ. Gosh, I really believe that. I really believe a relationship with God is one of searching, of openness, of seeking out more light, goodness, guidance. I am reading the New Testament right now and one thing that strikes me so much is how often Christ repeats the message, "Ask, seek, knock." This is the answer, I think, to how I can keep my missionary work from being routine, to how all of us can keep life as something new and fresh and full of opportunities rather than as something burdensome, old, fixed, dead. 

 

I am so glad Deanna and grandfather are doing better. I love you all so muh!

A Thousand Years

Remember the Bizzarre Foods show? Well, this week I ate a "thousand-year-old egg", as they are called, which apparently was voted in the top ten most repulsive foods in the world or something. I think mine might have been cooked and seasoned pretty well, though, because it wasn't that bad. I certainly wouldn't eat it for fun, but it was tolerable. The family of a lady in our ward took us to a hot-pot buffet on Saturday night, and the husband basically dared me to eat it. I was like "Okay, why not?" So I did. 

 

I also found out... I ate pig's blood cake and blood tofu on accident. There was a kimchi soup that some member made after church a few weeks ago... I swear, I really did have a strange feeling as I was stirring around its suspcious red contents in my bowl. There were these chunks of dark-grey tofu in it, and a cube of blackish rice. Tasted kind of unappealing but hey, so do a lot of things. Last week, Sister Kang told me what they were. It had been a couple of weeks since I had eaten it, but it still made me gag! Ughhhhhh.... Mary, remember when I almost passed out in Wayment's class because everyone was talking about blood soup?

 

That was the only food though that I think I regret trying. I remember being at Tucano's with my band last summer and I didn't want to eat chicken heart, it was two weird. And everyone was teasing me about all the much weirder things I would eat in Taiwan. I was worried for myself. But ever since coming here, I've had this sudden curiosity and willingness to try whatever I am served, sometimes even ordering strange things for the purpose of trying them out. There is still a long way to go before I eat the chicken feet people bring to ward parties, perhaps, but I am getting there. I'll keep you updated as my resume of strange-foods-eaten expands.

 

So... If anyone wants to write me, I promise you don't need to be scared of sending things to Taiwan. Postage from the states for a normal letter is $1.05. If you address your letter to me and copy down this address it will get to me. This is the mission home address, so it won't change throughout my mission:

 

Floor 4, No. 24, Lane 183
Jin Hua Street, Da-An District, Taipei
Taiwan

 

Hint hint..... Just kidding. :)

 

This week Evonsa was baptized! Evonsa is her english name. Often the english names people choose for themselves are kind of rare and old-fashioned. Sometimes they are not even English--like our friend Xu JieMei, a slightly slow, round, 30 year old lady who loves Americans. She believes firmly in both Jesus and Buddha. She comes to English class religiously, always showing up a few minutes early to give us snacks and to tease us. I love her, and becuase she is so instantly sweet and accepting I don't feel self-conscious about my Chinese around her, which is refreshing. We always have really funny, broken conversations with a lot of sign language and laughter. Anyway, her English name is Kenji, which I am pretty sure is actually a Japanese name.

 

Recommended reading of the week: The Atonement and the Journey of Mortality, by Elder Bednar. It is in the April 2012 Ensign. I was reading it during personal study this week and just kept experiencing this "Yes yes yes yes yes!" through my whole self. He talks about how the grace Christ offers is more than redemption--more than something that neutralizes our sins. It is something that enables and empowers. He says to lay hold on this type of grace, we should be asking not for our circumstances to change, but for us to have the power to change our circumstances. I love this idea and have experienced it in small degrees and want to experience it more. Please look it up! Here, I will do it for you:

 

http://www.lds.org/liahona/2012/04/the-atonement-and-the-journey-of-mortality?lang=eng

 

My heart is so full of things I want to say. My heart is also so full with all the things you have to say to me. I don't know what challenges you all might be facing every day, and if you see conections to the challenges I face, but every time I share mine I do so because I hope they will relate, and connect. And that we can grow together.

 

I have lately been on a sort of high... I feel so happy to be here, to be able to feel this much love, gratitude, and awe for people and the world around me. Have you ever thought about how each of us at each moment are surrounded by infinity in all directions? How funny that sometimes we think we know a place or a person or a situation, but we will never even really be able to see or grasp the essence of a pen we hold in our hands. The only kind of knowledge that sticks and matters most is the kind that is connected to our souls, our moral centers. I don't know what this pen is but I know by making these strokes on this card I can communicate some meaning to a person who is sick and feeling lost and hopefully inspire a recognition of goodness in them that can make waves in their reality as it has in mine. God is so cool.

 

I am really, really tired. Last night for the first time in a while my high was wearing off, my mood on the edge of collapse, and more than anything I just wanted a nap. A break from Chinese and from having to think all the time. Then on the way home while biking I started singing "How Firm a Foundation", and I found this spurt of strength that wasn't there before. I don't know how you find strength, but remembering Christ, studying his life, and trying to be willing to sacrifice and love as much as he does has really changed my life. I don't know very much, but I think he wants me to really take up this situation I am in, accept it and appreciate it, and do what I feel morally compelled to do. I don't think he wants me to run away from or resent the challenges I face.

I still need a nap! We wake up at 5 to do emails. But hopefully I will catch up on sleep tonight. Haha. Keep praying for me.

 

I love you all! Thanks for the love and support. Take care.

 

Sister Brown

Remembering‏

Dear family and friends,

 

I hope you all had a safe and happy Halloween/Hurricane/Election week. I am assuming I will find out more of what happens with the hurricane aftermath and the election from my English Class students. We hold free English class at the chapel every Wednesday night. I teach the advanced class (because you have to know the least Chinese, since they are all already so good at English.) We always have really interesting discussions about culture, politics, business, history, and things like that. They all watch TV, so they keep me pretty updated on big world events. So big news will always trickle its way down to me.

 

Everything went as usual, this week, which is to say that every day went as unplanned, being full of both serendipity and disappointment. It's funny how much we plan, plan, plan, every night before we go to bed, every morning before we go out, with the ward council on Sundays and with our district at district meetings, but as soon as we leave the front door we are in a world where all our little plans have no inherent place. So we try to fix a small place for them, and sometimes we make an impact here and there but mostly we find things working out not the way we expected, and we learn so much more than we teach. Things always move forward, though, in their very imperfect way. I actually really appreciate the constant state of juxtaposition missionaries are in--of being required to take a firm stance on what change they want to see in the world, but in bringing this change to pass are required to be so flexible.

 

As a very small example, people always ask questions in lessons we didn't think they would ask. One investigator we are teaching, in particular, is really sharp and thoughtful. She is 21, studying Russian at a local university, and her english name is Joanna. I can't really say why, but I love her so much. Every time we leave a lesson, I think "Wow, I kind of wish I could hang out with her." I think she initially started meeting with us out of curiosity; she goes to the free English classes we hold to practice her English (which is very good) and got to know missionaries. But she has really made sincere changes in her life since meeting with us. She loves praying; she really believes God is there. Her prayers are really cute. She prays in English when she is with us and says things like, "Hey God, this is Joanna." And closes saying, "I don't really have anything else to say right now, so I will just talk to you later. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen"

 

But anyway, her lessons really keep us on our toes--whether she's asking us about what God's name is, how our beliefs compare with Muslims, or sometimes things that are really important to think about--like why would she want eternal life? We taught plan of salvation and that was one of her concerns about it. She said she just wanted to live life to the fullest now, but didn't want to live forever. We talked to her about it. She had been through a painful break up recently, which may have had something to do with what she said,which was, "Feeling is just exhausting. I want to be done with feeling."  It had never, ever occurred to me to think that way. Sister Kang and I who have grown up being told the best gift Heavenly Father will give us is eternal life with our families could easily have been like, "She's crazy!" (Crazy is such a helpful thing to call someone when you are scared to take their ideas seriously.) But it just gave both of us a lot to think about it, and we've discussed the idea a lot since then in companion studies and a little bit in our lessons with Joanna. I don't know if she's come to any different conclusions, but it feels at least like there is openness and acceptance on both sides to the others' perspective, which is cool. We have learned a lot, for sure, just from the thinking. Joanna is extremely open to learning about everything, which sets a good example for me.

 

I often think throughout my week about whether I'm happy or not, about whether you all should be "worried" about me or whatever. And the question confuses me. There have been some nights when I am almost giddy with how happy I am to be a missionary. The down times are when I've been irritated at Sister Kang for something trivial but that for some reason is just difficult to purge from my heart. Then I get in a "poor me" attitude and start missing the family and school and my old life.  Both of these extremes are a part of my experience here. But really, life is just rich, and good. It is cool to feel like I am actually doing something with life, not just talking about like I did at school. And really, it just feels right to be close to God. Sometimes that comes in the form of joy, this warmth and goodness and enlightenment that floods me and that I want to give pick up in buckets and splash to the world. And sometimes it comes as a deep, somber humility for my weaknesses and acknowledgment of how undeserving I am of God's forgiveness of me. But feeling like my relationship with him is alive is definitely the best thing ever. I really have to work on having him close to me in my heart all the time, because it is so easy to get distracted and prideful and selfish. I am lucky to have spiritual ups and downs right now that are relatively narrow in oscillation, so that I within a few hours/days recognize when I have relapsed and the recent memory of God's goodness is clear enough to motivate me to pick myself back up. What I really fear is a day when the oscillations are wider, slower, and so deep on the side of far that I forget--I forget what it means to be close to him, to have him breathing through my thoughts and words and muscles. Forgetting is so scary to me because it means my desires will change, and I won't realize this is the goodness I seek.

 

So this is my life! Either this is "happiness", or I'm learning there are more important things than being happy. But I am definitely so grateful I decided to come out here.

 

So, a few people email me every week and I hear about their lives, but I am not sure how it might be going for everyone else. I really pray for you all, and worry about you all. I want you to know that my life in Taiwan is not anything special. It is just real, like all of yours are. All the challenges I have are the same ones you are having. It's all a matter of what we do in our hearts, the details are all that differ. Be strong! I really love you all. And if you are wondering if I remember you, just know that I do.

 

Diana