March 11, 2019 Barrier of Faith before the Miracle

They say you hit a barrier of faith before the miracle, and boy is that us! Hermana Ballard keeps asking, "how many barriers Hermana Hawkes?" "Don't worry," I tell her, "I'm pretty sure tomorrow is the day we find the family of nine." 

We set up 17 lessons for this last week. 7 were first lessons with brand new people to teach. We had a total of 2. We've tracked down every lead and every person I've even ever heard of in the history of Agua Caliente. We've made calls, stopped by, knocked, set up family nights...hearts and doors just seem slower than normal to open lately. 

It doesn't help that our new branch mission leader doesn't seem to be a fan of me. I always seem to do something that bothers him. We're late or we don't communicate well or I don't chop the onions near thin enough (branch breakfast.) I'm going a little crazy. We've been working for months to set up ministering in the branch, as it addresses the most serious needs of those we are working with, mostly part member families. When I arrived, I remember bringing it up and having this brother tell me, "That doesn't exist in the branch." No one would get on board with us. We took matters into our own hands, and tracked down nearly every inactive member in Desert Hot Springs, and tracked down correct contact information. Was it our job, no, but was anyone else doing it? No. Did we feel impressed that this was what we needed to do to help the work? Yes. Was anyone going to go ministering without a correct address? No. The sweet new Relief Society president has been calling us lately to ask us for addresses. We've been begging the clerks to get the information in for us. I brought up the problem yesterday, and got absolutely chewed out by our new Branch mission leader for "doing people's callings for them." "No one should be asking YOU for information. They should already know." He's right, and I'm with him, but also as a missionary we have to be so careful not to tell people how to perform their callings. Being the bulldog, going to bat, that's his job! Really frustrated. Even bran muffins didn't solve it. 

Hermana Ballard is a warrior, but it's hard for her. I'm staying as positive as possible, and I'm keeping my chin up, but it feels like this area is sort of falling apart in my hands. I'm supposed to be showing her how this should go and I don't think I am. My one goal was to help her love the work for the work's sake, but without lessons that's pretty tough. She's a born teacher. We need to teach. 

We had a pretty crazy experience at Zone conference this last week. I haven't felt like a good teacher lately. One of the mission presidency asked Hna Ballard and I to participate in a role play, which makes me really nervous. Luckily, he started giving the intro and we figured we'd just be sitting there while they taught us. Not so. He started in with, "we're too brothers you just met. We'd like to know about God. Teach us." We both absolutely froze. We're in a room with 2 mission leaders, and many of the zone and district leaders. Everyone is looking at us. My blood ran cold! I knew, i knew I absolutely could not do it, so I said a little prayer, looked them in the eyes (and eye contact is something I'm not good at), and just started saying something. Anything. I think I learned what it means to open your mouth. I've never felt so intensely what it means to be "given in the very moment that which ye shall say." I found myself asking questions, Hermana Ballard bearing the sweetest, clearest testimonies, and the spirit was really thick in the room. President Sears talked about losing his dad, and we promised he'd see him again. He cried! He stopped the mini lesson only twice. "You said the spirit, TELL me what it FEELS like. You said heavenly Father. Tell me what he's like." We invited them to pray, and he jumped in. "NOW is the time. The spirit is here. Act. Pray with us. Show us." We prayed an somehow committed our mission councilor and another missionary to baptism. Haha it was wild! I've never felt the spirit operate like that quite that strongly; pure energy guiding and directing. It made me realize more than anything I am no teacher, the spirit is. Without it our words mean nothing but with it the simplest truth can become life changing. 

Jesse showed up at the branch breakfast and scared me half to death. It was good to see him, but also kind of threw me out of wack. He was so out of context! I was so busy serving out potatoes I felt like I didn't give him enough attention. It was good to remember that I've taught people who truly are converted. Not many, but at least one. I haven't been sure lately that really anyone progresses in my hands. For that reason I was really grateful for the sower story dad and the song Mom. The 2 people who've been baptized with me were already well on their way. I'm just not sure I'm doing this right. 

After the whole thing at Zone Conference, we were asked to give a training in district council on the same theme. I've studied Ch.4 more than any other, but I know what happened there wasn't me. It was because we were entirely, completely, utterly dependent on the Lord and focused on the people. That's the key. I know that, and yet I feel like I'm failing. We had an Atonement of Christ lesson with Manuel the same night, the man who is just on the brink of baptism, and I couldn't read him. The lesson was so planned, so prepared, we testified and the topic was the ATONEMENT. Recipe, perfect recipe for success. Yet, I don't know that I felt the spirit testify of what we taught. We tried to keep the focus on Manuel, but the man just doesn't express himself much no matter how many questions you ask. It was so discouraging after our powerful experience. I feel a little run dry. All these people, they just don't come to church. We've tried EVERYTHING. They just aren't willing to set a baptismal date. They are stagnating, and I feel responsible. This seems to happen with nearly everyone I teach, and most especially with those I dedicate myself most to, and I can't express any frustration or tiredness because I've got a new missionary and she needs to love this. She doesn't yet. 

On a brighter note, one of the lessons we did have was with Rudy, and boy do i have a story for him. We were contacting in a trailer park, like usual, and he was out fiddling with what looked like a toolbox. "We should talk to him!" piped up Hermana Ballard, so we asked him what he was doing. Turns out it's his little stovetop lunchbox, and it's basically his prized possession. He was tickled pink and even did a little demonstration. Turns out he's been to our church four times, and was thrilled to get a book of Mormon. His name's Rudy, or Rodolfo, and says he's so popular everyone in Desert Hot Springs knows his name. 

We came back the next day, and he was thrilled. Unfortunately, we had just received a training on listening which I took as a call to repentance, and it set us up for failure. Rudy's a talker, from the tips of his hair to his white cowboy boots! He and our member present got along swimmingly, too swimmingly. Rudy told us his entire life story, which you really can't interrupt, and she shared everything from her testimony to the promise of the Book of Mormon, all before we could even jump in and ask to start with a prayer. He didn't even know what the Book of Mormon was yet! The spirit was there when we testified, when we could occasionally get a word in edgewise, but mostly it was all chatter. We were trapped for over an hour, which is worst case scenario in missionary life, and probably talked for all of 6 minutes between the two of us. We talked about fixed prayers, and how we should pray from the heart, and Rudy was agreeing and nodding and seemed to understand. Sweet Guadalupe was worried if reading prayers every morning is OK. After it all, we all knelt together and I asked Rudy to say the closing prayer. Moment of truth! I ran him through the steps, emphasizing that really it just needed to be sincere and from his heart. I gave him the pamphlet with the steps to peek at if he needed to. He took a deep breath, powerfully addressed Heavenly Father...and then proceeded to read the prayer instructions word for word. He was so proud of himself I didn't have the heart to go into it again right then, and walked out thoroughly ashamed of myself. I don't know when I've felt like that bad of a missionary or trainer. Hermana Ballard was beat. Luckily we'll be going back soon and hopefully can rewrite some misunderstandings. 

The work is hard right now, but it's ok. I learned pretty quickly that the Lord wants me to love this for His sake. Love these people regardless of their progression. I said a prayer months and months ago to know "where to go," and got the funniest little mental image of a pink trailer with pinwheels in the yard. I don't know what it means, but I know I've been knocking every pink trailer I see every since. I don't always know exactly what the Lord wants me to do, or how to do it, and I'm such an imperfect vessel, but if I've learned anything from the scriptures it's that the Lord can use those. We're going to keep after it. We're going to trust that those people are out there, because we can feel it. We're going to definitely interrupt Rudy if we need to. We're going to get just a tiny bit better every day, and I think that's enough. 

I love you all so much! Have the best week! 

love, 

Hermana Hawkes 

"Where's the coffee?" --Me at the breakfast. (Hey, someone asked me and I just wanted to help them out. didn't think it through too well) 

"Spanish is so confusing. If I'm not careful I could end up saying 'popes' or 'little daddy' instead of potato?" --Hermana Ballard (she kept calling them "papacitas" or "los papas")