April 15, 2019 Again and Again

We've had a great week. Lots of finding, which means lots of talking to new people! I love it, other than everyone has been absolutely roasting me about my Spanish lately which is really hard. I find I'll start to gain some confidence and then it seems like everyone decides to bring me back down to earth! Work hard, depend on the Lord. Baby-bites.  

Esteban is doing so well. He is two Sunday's strong at church, and reading the Book of Mormón daily. He absorbs it all like a sponge! It's so funny, he's the most stoic person I've ever met, but he loves the book! He's trying to teach us the dialect, Talasco (I think??) And just think it's funny as can be when we can't pronounce anything. The other night on the 70th they had a whole band in pink suit jackets singing their hearts our in dialect. I thought it was Spanish at first, and was so distressed because I couldn't catch a word! Nearly everyone speaks it here. 

We're teaching a young, soon to be Mom named Gabby. Right now, we're working on just helping her pray and really teach out to God. It's amazing watching someone, especially someone lonely, take in the idea that God is our Father, and a Father who weeps with us. 

Little firecracker Presidente Luna came and spoke to our ward and called down the powers of heaven to help us have Family Nights and Temple Trips. I sure love that man! 

Love Hermana Alvarado too. She's an incredible teacher, about as even keeled as anyone I've ever met, and never misses a chance to bear her testimony. Also...she's crazy and likes to yell "COACHELLA!!" Out the window some times. Boy, missionaries come in ever flavor! 

Thinking a whole bunch about the resurrection this week. It's come to mean a whole lot more to me on my mission. It means that every pain or trouble we experience is only temporary. Wow. I can't quite wrap my head around it, but I'm sure grateful. My anxiety as always ebbs and flows, there are some days when, to quote a favorite show, my mind is like "forks in the garbage disposal" and I can't seem to focus or get myself to be positive. I remember one night kneeling by my bed just exhausted, my mind going too fast for me to even say a good prayer, which has been a big struggle lately. I remember receiving the quiet impression that the Savior understood what this was like, that He loved me, and that one day He would take it away. 

I know nothing I've ever gone through is anything compared to what others face, but I know I'm sure grateful that someone always understands. That someone is always there, even when it feels like there isn't. I tend to have those moments--when it seems like there's a wall between me and Heaven--I try to remember that because Jesus Christ, for just a moment, walked alone, I never truly have to. 

I love this gospel. I love that there are no true endings, no last chances. I'm so grateful for my Savior and His sacrifice. Have the best week!