Joseph Smith and stuff‏

Dear Family and friends,

 

Another week full of rain. The sun came out for a little bit on Friday, and it felt like  a miracle on the back of my arms and neck. But it has disappeared once more under the insurpassable gray sky. That's okay, though! It really doesn't make a difference, at the end of the day, if it was rainy or not. I have a good day when I try to love God and the people around me.

 

This week I have really had to come back to the roots of my faith, and let those carry me through in everything I do. It has been a week in which I've seen just a lot of suffering, between our investigators. We are teaching a woman who had a stroke last year and can only move one half of her body, and is in terrible debt, almost to the point of being put in jail. We are teaching a Vietnamese woman with an abusive, controlling husband who forbids her to make friends and would probably be very angry if he knew she was meeting with us. We are teaching a girl who is a very open lesbian. We are teaching another girl who isn't quite as open about being attracted to women, but whom we are fairly sure has crushes on us. It breaks my heart how lonely she is, how eager to please. It breaks my heart that now we are in a complicated situation not knowing  how to love her and encourage her progression in the gospel without encouraging her attachment to us. Things are complicated.

 

Mom, you asked about if I had any thoughts about Joseph Smith, since you are preparing a lesson on him.There are a couple of things about him that help me better understand the importance of the restoration and my own personal experiences with God. Mainly it's that whatever you can say about what he "really" did or didn't experience, or about what the worth of his impact on the world has been, it seems apparent that he really believed all that he experienced to be real and true. And that seems like such a basic point... But it's so crucially important! What was missing from religion then and what is missing in religion now, in my opinion, is personal experience with God. He brought to the world an organization called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to faciliate people's own experiences with a God that he had experienced to be real, true, and good. Being on a mission has helped me to better understand why there is so much emphasis in the church on having our own personal experiences with finding truth and spirituality. Sometimes I have felt tempted to think religion is simply about learning to be a good person, and to treat others well. Of course that is an inseparable part of religion, but the more underlying reason is that there is a real God who exists and who is good. Knowing him to whatever degree we know him is what inspires and enables us to be good, to turn outwards towards the world in service and love.

 

For me, at least, I feel my problem with spirituality tends to be that I talk too much about it and do too little of it. Philosophy, science, and poetry are incredible tools for helping us think about and potentially open our hearts towards God, but onless we do that part--opening our hearts--we're never going to find him. And unless we find him, we will never be able to experience that endless source of love that colors all the interactions and details of our lives with meaning, with responsibilities, with more love.

 

Anyway, I like Joseph Smith for the simple example he set of this pattern: seeking God, experiencing him, and obeying him. It took his life in a direction I am pretty sure he never, ever anticipated, when he went to the sacred grove, or even when he came back with the Gold plates, and probably even after every subsequent revelation he received.  But what a miracle and beautiful thing, that that suggests! That there is something new, real, compelling, and important to be experienced. Something we don't know now, but that we can know if we open ourselves up to a God who will tell us.

 

Sometimes it is easy to look at missionary work as such a feeble thing. We are these young people going out all over the world trying to talk about God. Wouldn't the quicker path to converting millions of people just be taking over a country or something? The church has money for that, don't they? (Just kidding.) But I've come to see this slow, one-on-one effort of missionaries as the most beautiful thing. I don't think Heavenly Father wants more people with baptismal records. He wants more people who pray to him, more people seek to understand him through the scriptures, more people who maybe aren't sure but are willing to try and be open to the possibility that he exists and that he has something to offer them. Sometimes it is frustrating that the church reminds us over and over again of Alma's promise of experimenting with the word of God, and Moroni's promise of praying about the Book of Mormon--sometimes we hear these so often that they are dead words to us. But they are words intended to lead us to the source of life.

 

The way I personally try to do this--not that I'm super good at it, but I try--is to obey what I feel life calling me, compelling me to do, that is right. I had a professor who gave us a challenge once to pick one day to pay close attention in every moment  to what we felt was right to do, and to do it, no matter what. It totally woke me up to all these things I daily feel compelled to do--be more loving with a sibling, have more integrity with my homework, do something kind for someone--that I frequently choose to ignore because of inconvenience. This is despite my declarations that I am trying to do my best to be good. This experiment really woke me up to the fact that so often I don't even ASK myself, let alone God, what is good to do. I just live. 

But I have found that if I really do try to pay attention, I do feel compelled to do certain things. And if I grow in that, continue trying to discern and obey (it is undoubtedly such a murky path, sometimes!) I find breakthroughs of clarity and find the wisdom and ability to keep going. This process, coupled with prayer, is what I feel has really given me experiences with Heavenly Father. Sometimes when I pray I am not sure if some idea I came up with is really from God or just an idea, but I think--hey, is this a good thing to do? Then I am going to do it! And as Elder Bednar says sometimes it really is just taking one step after another through the fog, following a light you see but admittedly it is dim. But you keep going and things make more and more sense and the light is more and more tangible. And gosh, it's so hard. I hope it's not self-righteous, me writing about all of this, because I know I personally suck at it very often. But it really is true! It has turned me into a person I didn't think I could be. I've been able to love people and situations I didn't think I could love. And to try to solve problems I have just wanted to run from. And sometimes at the end of the day, the fact that you are different from how you thought you could be is just about the best thing to be able to say. haha.

 

Hmm. This isn't really what I was planning on writing about today. Oh well. Hope it was interesting and not just preachy. Next week I promise I will talk more about Taiwan.

I love you all! Don't worry about me, I am doing great!

Diana

Hope is the thing with feathers

Dear Family,

 

This week certainly contained some of my most thoroughly miserable moments, on my mission so far. It also contained some of the sweetest moments. I'm excited to get to write about it!

 

First of all, a lot of you asked about New Years here in Taiwan. People definitely celebrated--much the way they do in America, with fireworks and going out with friends--but everyone says that was only a shadow of the celebration that will come during Chinese New Year, which lasts an entire week in Februrary. I am sure I will write more about that when the time comes.

 

This week we had more finding time than we had in the weeks previous. Finding time is when we don't have any scheduled appointments, so we will go to a park or a busy street and contact people. Or we will QiaoMen, which means to knock doors--(but in Taiwan, that means ringing apartment buzzers.) Street contacting is so interesting! You get some people who see your nametag and start taking a long path around to avoid you, or will quickly say, "Wo gan shijian" (I don't have time) before you open your mouth. You have people who want to talk to us because we are American and think we are cute. You get people who aren't interested in hearing what we have to say but think we are interesting and admirable for doing something hard, so far away from our families. And you get people who really do want to learn more about our church. 

 

Finding is often really awkward and discouraging. It especially was for me at the beginning of my mission because my Chinese was so pitiful, I felt more like a lump with a few preachy-sounding things to say than a real person, when talking to people. I also was still working hard to overcome my personal fears and insecurities about striking up conversations with strangers. I am still working on my insecurities and my Chinese, obviously, but things have been getting so much hetter! I am coming to genuinely enjoy finding time. People are just interesting; I love hearing their perspectives and stories, even if it doesn't always lead to a lesson or someone new to teach. We are encouraged to always love people and get to know them, and I feel so close to God when I use that perspective to talk to people. I find that when I feel love towards them, talking about the gospel can be really natural and sincere--not awkward or pushy. And I am okay with it if they don't want to talk to us more about the gospel. I hope that even if it is nothing more than carrying a smile because I have a source of hope in my life, that I can be a positive influence on them.

 

Sister Duggar is so good at street contacting. She is upbeat, natural, and very loving towards people. She has taught me so much, already. Unfortunately, though. She doesn't believe it. She also gets extremely self-conscious and insecure when people don't want to talk to us. On some of these long finding days, she would get in moods that were pretty heavy, and she would tell me all about her self-doubt and how she doesn't know how to be a missionary and she wishes she were as successful as Elder so-and-so, etc. It is a lonely and delicate thing to try to navigate sensitively my conversations and interactions with her so I can build her up, and make sure she never has cause to be offended or hurt over anything. Sometimes, I have to be honest, it is just plain miserable--to be working all day in the cold, drizzling rain, with someone in such a stony, sullen mood, in which nothing I try to say or do seems to make any difference. Those moments have definitely been some of the hardest parts of my mission, so far. If I let them get to me, they make me doubt myself, too--I start to feel effect-less as a missionary, as a companion, as a citizen of the earth.

 

The sweetest moments, though, have been when I have turned to God to try to deal with it. The first day that I was companions with Sister Duggar, she started telling me about her depression and I felt this strong sense saying to me, "Your most important purpose this transfer is going to be loving and serving your companion, not the other missionary work." At the time I had no idea what that would mean. I am coming to learn. And I am unfortunately having to learn it over and over again, as I try to balance wanting to go out and talk to people but not wanting to make my companion miserable, wanting to be more bold but not wanting to make my companion feel pressured, wanting to have success as a missionary but not wanting my companion (or me) to feel as if our success is what makes us valuable. I am learning a lot about my own weaknesses, and not being judgmental. (I have suffered a lot this week over realizing just how far my judgmentalness has extended towards people in the past, and how many times I have hurt people I should have loved.) Over and over again when I turn to my Heavenly Father and ask what to do, I am told, "Love her." I am also told, "Be happy. Don't feel so sorry for yourself." I am also told, "Be humble. The sacrifices you make for her are only a shadow of the kind your savior has made for you."

 

One of the most despairing, but also coolest moments for me this past week was when we spent almost a whole rainy day finding, and things seemed so bleak, and I felt so confused and alone--and the night ended in us watching "17 miracles" with the ward and one of our investigators at the chapel. We had spent much of the day inviting people on the street to come watch the movie with us, since it was a ward activity, and not a single person we invited to came, even the ones we had good conversations with. In retrospect, it's probably a good thing because 17 Miracles is definitely not a warm, fuzzy movie. But anyway, it was kind of a hard day. And even while watching the movie, and being sucked in by its interesting plot, all the ethical questions it raises, I was doubting myself--maybe we should have still been out in the rain, contacting people, or making calls to referrals, doing something more productive than watching the movie. I felt so weak and unsure of my place in the world. I still don't know what the right thing to do was.

 

But the message of that movie, combined with my own personal circumstances while watching it, have brought me a lot of comfort and peace this week. One of the coolest things about that movie, I think, is that none of the ethical questions are ever really solved. You never really know, for instance, whether all these miracles truly happened or are the fantasies of starved, hallucinating minds. You never know if Levi Savage was right to submit to his leader or if this was an example of corrupt leadership. You never know if it is truly right to suffer so much, even to death, for the sake of your religion, or if this truly is a crazy thing to do. Those questions are all still gapingly open and raw, at the end of the movie. But what you are left with is with the contrast of the Willie Martin Handcart company with the Donnor Party. While the Donnor Party resorted to cannibalism, people of the Willie Martin Handcart Company were willing to carry each other across icy rivers, give their last meager portions of food to their loved ones, etc. That, to me, is the only question that really was answered--that when human suffering reaches its maximum, we as human beings truly are still capable of love. I am trying to understand what that means in my life.

 

Hope is the thing with feathers!

 

Have a great week! I love you all!

 

Diana

No matter how beautifully you shave your legs today, you still have to do it again tomorrow.

Dear family and friends,

 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I hope this was a great week for everyone! You all got to spend time away from work and with family, hopefully. That is good. I loved getting to talk to you all on the phone the other day! It was so good to hear all of your voices, and even some of your new voices, (*coughpuberty-aged brothercoughcough*). Sorry if I bored you when I was babbling on so long about Taiwan culture. I don't think I realized how much I wanted to talk about it until I started going!

 

So this week had a lot of ups and downs. It is interesting how different this transfer is from my last transfer!

 

First, my companion is totally different. Sister Duggar is so awesome. I don't know what it is about her, but she just makes me feel so safe and comfortable. We are really goofy together, sometimes. For the past couple of English classes we have had, we end up doing really funny things for everyone else's entertainment. We taught them the Hokey Pokey one week, and danced it in front of the whole class. Last week we taught them the adverb game where you pick a scenario and have to act it out using a particular adverb. The students could not stop laughing while I "romantically" bought Zhuabing from Sister Duggar, who was "romantically" selling this street food.

 

We also connect a lot in how we like to do missionary work. We have only half the routine and organization to our lessons than what I had when I was in training, but twice as much heart. I don't know if it is my recent progression with Chinese or Sister Duggar's influence, but I feel like I am finally coming to be able to express what I want to in lessons--to really communicate to investigators what Christ means to me, and what I hope I can offer them from teaching them his gospel. And Sister Duggar is a person who really feels, really loves. Street contacting is great with her because she loves people so immediately--she genuinely wants to know who they are, what is important to them, and how she can help them. She doesn't talk to them and ask these questions just because she is supposed to. We feed off of each other's love and sincerity. I have had such powerful teaching moments with her when we are both so full of fire and love for the people we are talking to, and it is so wonderful. This is the missionary I wanted to be!

 

The thing that keeps me going really is Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. My relationship with them. It's far from perfect, far from a smooth channel of communication, but I really do believe they are there when I am humble myself and seek them. The promises of the scriptures have proven true to me. I have been given so much strength and love and the power to do hard things when I have desired to have it. The trick, to me, is to have this desire. When things get hard, usually it is because I am at a state emotionally of wanting to give up--of not wanting to face my situation or the challenges it brings. But as soon as I do decide to face it, to embrace it, I find I am able to do things, love things, and be patient with things I never thought I could do, love, or be patient with. I have been given wisdom and insight for how to solve problems when I seek the wisdom and insight to solve them--rather than wanting to run from them.

 

To use a little example: the first day I started riding a bike in Taiwan, I had no idea how to do it. The basket on the front end took me all out of balance, my shoes kept wanting to come off the pedals, the traffic was terrifying, and it was so hard to even get on my bike modestly, because I was wearing a skirt! I kept asking Sister Kang if she had advice, what tricks she used to do it, but she just said, 'You'll figure it out. You get used to it." And really, that's what happened. I had to accept that there wasn't going to be some point where all of a sudden I knew how to ride a bike in a skirt in Taiwan. I just had to do it. And gradually the two wheels and the handlebars and the seat that used to make me sore became more or less an extension of my body--I came to understand how they moved and worked. As I kept going--not because I knew how but out of necessity--I found other challenges to riding a bike. Like on days when it is really windy, and I have to use one hand to keep my skirt from blowing up. Or when it is raining, and the rain keeps getting in my face, making it hard to see. Or when I find myself biking between two large busses that are in a hurry to get moving. Or when I have my violin strapped to my back and it makes me feel so unsteady. Sometimes I feel like laughing at the bizarre mixture of these circumstances that I still somehow find myself able to push through. Sister Kang's "You'll figure it out" seems to have a lot of wisdom to it.

 

That's kind of how it's been for me on a mission, with trying to learn how to teach in Chinese, work with companions, etc. Sometimes it hits me that I seriously have no idea what I'm doing, or if what I am attempting to do is even possible. But there is so much sweetness and wisdom and love I have gained from trying. And I feel like God has helped me step by step to learn the things that are necessary for me to get through each day, or to give me the love I need to have for my companion and the people I am with. I don't know a whole lot but I really believe he is there! And that he can change our hearts and guide us when we turn to him.

 

A little bummed right now because I really wanted to send you guys pictures with the SDcard/USB thing I got for Christmas, but it doesn't appear to be working. And the error message it gives me are all in Chinese characters--and I pretty much don't know any computer vocabulary. Haha. Oh well, hopefully I can figure it out another time.

 

Love you all! Thanks for all your support! Let me know if there is anything I can do for any of you.

 

Diana

ShengDanJie Kauile! (Merry Christmas! Literally: Holy Birth Day Happy)

Dajia Hao.

 

Merry Christmas!!!! This has by far been one of the sweetest, most memorable Christmases of my life. We are taking a shorter time for emails today since both of us are calling home so soon (SO EXCITED!) but I will tell you a little bit about how my Christmas has been.

 

First, the missionary choir was performing all weekend. I have barely been in my area at all, which is actually hard in a lot of ways. I still feel so new to this place and I feel like I haven't quite figured out how to be a missionary in this new area and ward, etc.

But, the missionary choir performances have been so fun. There is such a comraderie among us, and we have basically been getting a tour of all of Northern Taiwan, traveling to all these different places by car, bus, metro, or on foot. Have I mentioned before how much I adore Taiwan? I know I still have a year left but the thought of leaving makes something inside me go cold. There are a lot of difficult things about being a missionary, but I have never been happier in my whole life.

 

Speaking of missions, JEFFREY!!!! Congrats on your mission call!!! I am so excited for you!!!

 

Anyway.

President and Sister Day, I think, are very sensitive to the fact that many of us are spending our first Christmases away from home. Today (Christmas) is a P-Day, (and after P-day ends at 6, we have a baptism--best day ever, right?) And yesterday we had a special zone conference. Before lunch, we had some training. Then we had a huge, home-cooked, American Christmas dinner. Turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, sweet potatoes, rolls, salad, fruit... It was so good. After lunch, we had a talent show that was one of the most fun, and also most touching talent shows I have ever been to, for sure. All the missionaries who wanted to find some talent to share could participate. Some people did goofy/entertaining things--like juggling, performing comedy monologues, or solving a rubix cube. I told everyone about the little street performing band I was in a couple summers ago called, "Triforce" where we made money in downtown Salt Lake playing Mario and Zelda music, then I played those on my violin. I didn't play it super well because I had zero time to warm up, but it's funny to think how little I cared! All of us made tons of mistakes, but all it showed was that we have more important things to be doing than practicing instruments and worrying about what people think of us. One of the most touching performances, for me, was a Taiwanese Elder who simply played Sweet Hour of Prayer from the hymn book. So many Americans would feel they would have to do something fancy to merit playing in a talent show, but you could tell he was proud of himself for being able to play just the simple version.

 

Isn't that the way it should be? I have learned so much on my mission that the goodness of things is found in the intention behind it rather than what it is.

Another example--there is an Elder in my mission who has a severe leaning disability. He is a little slow, when you talk to him. But he is absolutely the sweetest person you will ever meet. Several times he has written me notes--and I don't even know him!--encouraging me to keep working hard, or thanking me for playing the violin. He does things like that for everyone. I know his Chinese can't be that great, I know he probably recognizes how much harder things come for him than for other missionaries, but he doesn't seem to let that shame him into not trying.

For the talent show, he sang a song that he wrote in the MTC. It was one extremely out of tune, had horrible rhymes, and borrowed nearly all its lyrics from previously-existing hymns or scriptures, but it was absolutely my favorite performance. He sang about Christ's love for everyone, and how we need to do the same, because "Perfect love casteth out all fear." It moved me so much, thinking about him as a person--his individual challenges and how he deals with them so bravely and cheerfully. Later, he was part of a choir group that sang "The First Noel" on stage, and he started crying while he was singing. I felt the love of Christ so strongly, and I couldn't stop crying either. I never, ever want to forget his example. How silly it is that I complain at times about my own Chinese, about my own insecurities and challenges, the things that hurt me--and I at times use them as excuses to bury myself. Bury my talents in the sand. He is one who perhaps has much less, but does all that he can to be a good person. Wow.

 

I have to go soon, but really quick I want to tell you about my Christmas Eve Dinner! Sister Duggar were so full of Christmas spirit that on our way home last night we decided we wanted to buy dinner from some of the poor people selling street food. I saw a rather old woman huddled up in the cold and looking rather bored and pitiful. She had a wooden box on her little metal food stand. I didn't know what she was selling that she had inside it, but I wanted to buy something from her. So I gave her my 25 kuai and she pulled out of the box one of those pigs-blood rice patties on a stick, which she then preceded to dip in a spicy sauce, then crushed up peanuts and cilantro. She smiled and something in Taiwanese I didn't understand, while I cheerfully took from her absolutely the last thing in the world I wanted to eat for dinner. But it made my day. I loved that lady so much! Haha.

 

Sister Brown

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