Dearest Mom,
How did the superbowl go? I didn't ever realize that it was yesterday until we started knocking on doors and everyone was drunk and busy. haha how lame.
um, so we don't really have much time to email but things are going well! I love being in Burnsville and we are seeing so many incredible miracles everyday! God is So good.
So one of the elders in our ward had to give a talk last week (did I tell you I gave a talk a few weeks ago? haha I still get SO nervous being up there and start shaking so bad. how embarrassing. obviously I am an introvert.)
But anyway, he gave a talk and shared a really cool poem. so I'm going to use the remaining time of emailing to write out this poem to you:
The alarm rings at 6:30, I stumble to my feet
I grab my companion’s bedding and pull off his sheet.
A groan fills the room, "Is it already time to arise?"
It seems like just a second ago I was able to shut my eyes
The morning activities follow - study, prayer, and such
When it's time to leave the apartment you feel you haven't accomplished much.
"We have a super day planned" my comp says with a grin
I slowly utter a faithless breath, "yeah, if anyone lets us in."
With the word of God and my faithful Schwinn, we ride off in the street
prepared to face another day of humidity and heat.
It's 9:30 in the evening; the day is almost through;
my companion and I are riding home, not accomplishing what we thought to do
We ride up to the mailbox, hoping to receive a lot
only to look inside and hear my echo reverberate, "air box"
We got up to our apartment, the day is now complete
the only thing to show our work is a case of blistered feet.
It's past 10:30 pm, my companion is fast asleep,
Silence engulfs me all about and I begin to weep
in the midst of sadness I kneel down to pray;
I need to talk to Father, but I'm not sure what to say.
"Oh Father," I begin "What happen to us today?
I thought we'd teach somebody, but everyone was away.
My hands, my aching hands, worn, hurt and beat
If our area was any smaller, we'd have knocked every street
Why on missions are the days so much alike?
The only difference about today was the flat tire on my bike.
Will you send some cooler weather? The heat is killing me.
I sweat so bad, it gets in my eyes; it's very hard to see
Why do I have to wear a helmet, isn't your protection enough?
people always laugh at me and call me stupid stuff.
Please send us investigators so I may give them what they lack;
I want to give them Books of Mormon; the weight of them hurts my back
And what about my family? They don't have much to say,
I'm sick of not hearing from home, day after day after day.
Oh Father, why am I here, am I just wasting time?
Sometimes I just want to go home, I'm sorry, but that's on my mind.
My companion, Heavenly Father, What are you giving me?
The way he rides his bicycle, I don't think he can see.
Now you have it, I can't go on; I don't know what to do.
That, my Father in Heaven is the prayer I have for you."
My prayer now finished I stand up, then jump right into bed.
I need my rest for tomorrow; we have another long day ahead.
Sleep starts to overtake me, I seem to drift away
Then it seems a vision takes me to another time and another day
I'm standing alone on the hill, the view is very nice.
A man walks towards me and says, "My name is Jesus Christ."
Tears of joy well up inside, I fall down to his feet.
"Arise" he states, "follow me to the shade, you and I need to speak"
My attention's toward the savior, total and complete.
He says, “Your mission is similar of what happened to me.
I understand how you feel, I know what you're going through;
In fact, it would be fair to say I've felt the same as you.”
“I even know how you felt when no one listened to you.
At times I felt not quite sure what else I could do.
I know you don't like to ride a bike, for you a car would be sweet;
Just remember the donkey I rode wasn't equipped with 21 speeds.”
“I understand you don't like sweating, in fact it's something you hate;
I remember when I sweat blood from every pore, oh the agony was great!
I see you don't like your companion- you'd rather have someone else.
I once had a companion named Judah who sold my life for wealth.”
“It's hard to wear a helmet and have people make fun of you.
I remember when they put thorns on my head and called me King of the Jews.
So you feel burdened down by the weight of your pack.
I recall how heavy the cross was when they slammed it on my back.”
“Your hands hurt from tracting and knocking on doors all day.
I guess when they pounded nails into mine, I ached in a similar way
It's hard not to hear from home when your family's not there to see.
I lost communication on the cross and cried, "Father why hast thou forsaken me?"
“We have a lot in common, but there's a difference between us you see;
I endured to the end and finished my mission, so follow and do like me."
He embraced me with his arms, his light filled me with his love
With tears in my eyes I watched as he went back to the Father above.
I stood with awe and wonder when a beep rang in my head.
I listened and heard the alarm, then realized I was in my bed.
My companion let out a groan, "6:30 already, no way!"
I sat up and said, "Come on, I'll carry your scriptures today!"
No matter what we go through, when we feel we can't take any more,
Just stop and think about Jesus Christ, he's been there before.
And that's the end of the poem. I love you and I have a testimony of the restored gospel. I know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God. It is the power unto the salvation of the children of men. And I am so thankful for my savior and redeemer, and most especially the opportunity to represent him.
Love, Sister TERRY
um, so we don't really have much time to email but things are going well! I love being in Burnsville and we are seeing so many incredible miracles everyday! God is So good.
So one of the elders in our ward had to give a talk last week (did I tell you I gave a talk a few weeks ago? haha I still get SO nervous being up there and start shaking so bad. how embarrassing. obviously I am an introvert.)
But anyway, he gave a talk and shared a really cool poem. so I'm going to use the remaining time of emailing to write out this poem to you:
The alarm rings at 6:30, I stumble to my feet
I grab my companion’s bedding and pull off his sheet.
A groan fills the room, "Is it already time to arise?"
It seems like just a second ago I was able to shut my eyes
The morning activities follow - study, prayer, and such
When it's time to leave the apartment you feel you haven't accomplished much.
"We have a super day planned" my comp says with a grin
I slowly utter a faithless breath, "yeah, if anyone lets us in."
With the word of God and my faithful Schwinn, we ride off in the street
prepared to face another day of humidity and heat.
It's 9:30 in the evening; the day is almost through;
my companion and I are riding home, not accomplishing what we thought to do
We ride up to the mailbox, hoping to receive a lot
only to look inside and hear my echo reverberate, "air box"
We got up to our apartment, the day is now complete
the only thing to show our work is a case of blistered feet.
It's past 10:30 pm, my companion is fast asleep,
Silence engulfs me all about and I begin to weep
in the midst of sadness I kneel down to pray;
I need to talk to Father, but I'm not sure what to say.
"Oh Father," I begin "What happen to us today?
I thought we'd teach somebody, but everyone was away.
My hands, my aching hands, worn, hurt and beat
If our area was any smaller, we'd have knocked every street
Why on missions are the days so much alike?
The only difference about today was the flat tire on my bike.
Will you send some cooler weather? The heat is killing me.
I sweat so bad, it gets in my eyes; it's very hard to see
Why do I have to wear a helmet, isn't your protection enough?
people always laugh at me and call me stupid stuff.
Please send us investigators so I may give them what they lack;
I want to give them Books of Mormon; the weight of them hurts my back
And what about my family? They don't have much to say,
I'm sick of not hearing from home, day after day after day.
Oh Father, why am I here, am I just wasting time?
Sometimes I just want to go home, I'm sorry, but that's on my mind.
My companion, Heavenly Father, What are you giving me?
The way he rides his bicycle, I don't think he can see.
Now you have it, I can't go on; I don't know what to do.
That, my Father in Heaven is the prayer I have for you."
My prayer now finished I stand up, then jump right into bed.
I need my rest for tomorrow; we have another long day ahead.
Sleep starts to overtake me, I seem to drift away
Then it seems a vision takes me to another time and another day
I'm standing alone on the hill, the view is very nice.
A man walks towards me and says, "My name is Jesus Christ."
Tears of joy well up inside, I fall down to his feet.
"Arise" he states, "follow me to the shade, you and I need to speak"
My attention's toward the savior, total and complete.
He says, “Your mission is similar of what happened to me.
I understand how you feel, I know what you're going through;
In fact, it would be fair to say I've felt the same as you.”
“I even know how you felt when no one listened to you.
At times I felt not quite sure what else I could do.
I know you don't like to ride a bike, for you a car would be sweet;
Just remember the donkey I rode wasn't equipped with 21 speeds.”
“I understand you don't like sweating, in fact it's something you hate;
I remember when I sweat blood from every pore, oh the agony was great!
I see you don't like your companion- you'd rather have someone else.
I once had a companion named Judah who sold my life for wealth.”
“It's hard to wear a helmet and have people make fun of you.
I remember when they put thorns on my head and called me King of the Jews.
So you feel burdened down by the weight of your pack.
I recall how heavy the cross was when they slammed it on my back.”
“Your hands hurt from tracting and knocking on doors all day.
I guess when they pounded nails into mine, I ached in a similar way
It's hard not to hear from home when your family's not there to see.
I lost communication on the cross and cried, "Father why hast thou forsaken me?"
“We have a lot in common, but there's a difference between us you see;
I endured to the end and finished my mission, so follow and do like me."
He embraced me with his arms, his light filled me with his love
With tears in my eyes I watched as he went back to the Father above.
I stood with awe and wonder when a beep rang in my head.
I listened and heard the alarm, then realized I was in my bed.
My companion let out a groan, "6:30 already, no way!"
I sat up and said, "Come on, I'll carry your scriptures today!"
No matter what we go through, when we feel we can't take any more,
Just stop and think about Jesus Christ, he's been there before.
And that's the end of the poem. I love you and I have a testimony of the restored gospel. I know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God. It is the power unto the salvation of the children of men. And I am so thankful for my savior and redeemer, and most especially the opportunity to represent him.
Love, Sister TERRY
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