Mission Highlights: Converts
Converts:
JESSE ESPIRIQUETA
principally known as "Old Faithful", "The Jedi Knight" (as he dubbed himself), and "Latino Buddy the Elf" (dubbed by me). Jesse was all energy and fire. He met with missionaries several times over the years, but never paid them much attention until Hermana Miller and Stanfield showed up on his porch. "With them," he said, "I realized they were just sweet girls with something to tell me. My heart started to soften." Jesse was on baptismal date within weeks, and although he battled doubts and opposition from all sides, he never looked back once. A Zapotec Indian, he was fiercely passionate about dance, art, and storytelling, and was constantly sharing his culture with us. He wrote each of his missionaries a detailed "Tenali" which is a sort of horoscope which was terrifyingly accurate. He dubbed me "Yolohuitzi" or "Corazon de Colibri" --Hummingbird Heart. He decided shortly after I arrived that he needed to prove himself to God through a forty-day fast until his baptism. He'd fast during the day and eat and drink only at night, although it was high summer and he worked construction. Obviously this worried us, but Jesse was as stubborn as he was passionate and soldiered on, even going an extra day because he slipped up and sipped water once. The only way I could get him to break his fast was making him little PB&J sack lunches and leaving them on his porch. The day he finished he came to us in tears and told us, "It's done, and I know enough." His baptismal date had to be pushed out 3 times for family reasons beyond his control, but when Jesse committed to keeping a commandment, he meant it and never wavered. He'd write us long texts about his adventures, and send lots of bug emogis in case he was "bugging" us. They called him the "Lamanite" in the ward, which worried Jesse based on the face-paint and tribalism he had read about in the Book of Mormon. "Hermana, I love that stuff!" I told him not to worry, that Lamanites were kind of epic. His baptism was such a special experience, and he was immediately called as assistant ward-mission leader and later a councilor in the Elders' Quorum. Jesse's conversion, in his own words, was going from the "dark side" to a "Jedi knight."
He was super accident prone, and managed to get bit by a black widow spider (he made Spider Man jokes forever), get mugged and drugged (he called us higher than a kite and scared us to death because he couldn't remember anything), and had his appendix burst. He could never lay low for long, however, and on his bed-rest after his appendix operation started building a massive pirate ship in the front yard for Halloween. He would doggedly work with friends, family, and those the missionaries were teaching, just trying to help anyone take the right steps. Jesse could just take a cause and run with it. Before he ever got baptized he was involved with 3 different dances for the stake multicultural activities, including a "danza" or tribal dance with the primary. He once stopped for 10 minutes on the road to wait for a hedgehog to cross, which turned out to be a pinecone.
Jesse keeps me updated on his life, and recently told me, "I've chosen my path. No matter how hard it gets I'm never looking back."
HERMANO (BULMARO) RAMOS
Hermano Ramos had been going to the Agua Caliente branch for nearly 15 years when his wife Laura finally got him cornered by the sister missionaries and set up a lesson. He was a recovering raging alcoholic, drinking over 16 cans a day (we ended up cleaning all those cans out of his shed later...) until Laura told him if it continued she was done. This was the catalyst he needed, and he made a sincere decision to change. He began to meet with us weekly, and at first Hermana Ramos was very careful not to push him, inviting other sisters to the lessons so she wasn't even present. He'd been going to church but hadn't listened too well. Fortunately, it was quickly clear that deep down he had a basic and growing testimony. I arrived in the area for his second lesson, and he agreed to a baptismal date. I always thought of him as "Rip Van Winkle" because he'd always quietly lament to us "the years he had lost" drinking. His desire to live his life again, especially to be a part of his grandson's life, was what drove him to change. I always worried about him a little. He was so quiet during lessons and very infrequently gave us full answers, so it was difficult to gauge where he was at. I remember in one lesson Hermana Ciarlante feeling inspired to share the verse "when ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God," and him beginning to break down in tears. It shocked and touched us...he so deeply wanted to be involved, be a brother in the church, to serve.
His baptism was an absolute disaster. For one thing, we sort of ran the ward and were booked doing too many things. The elders promised to watch the font for us, but had a medical emergency and the whole thing flooded. Through a miscommunication, no one had notified the speakers, so after a clumsy devotional and getting hollered at in Spanish, he was baptized in dirty water. Everything was so chaotic, and everyone was so upset, everyone except Bulmaro. He was so quiet, furrowing his brow, quietly cracking jokes the way he always would. "Where's my karate belt?" he told us as he came out in his baptismal suit. When he found out we'd have to wait several hours before to refill the font if we drained it, he simply replied, "Me gusta mas con agua sucia." I remember asking him after the service, "Hermano, how do you feel." He began to choke up and told me with emotion, "Very, very excited."
After the baptism Hermana Ramos took control, and getting in to have the recent convert lessons was nearly impossible. He was baptised, they could get sealed in a year, and that was good enough for her. As a result, his little growing testimony never got as strong as I would have liked. He struggled a bit after I left, going inactive after some family drama on Laura's part and falling back into alcohol for several months. Last I heard he's doing much better now and active again.
ESTEBAN VARGAS
"The old general." Esteban was part of the Mexican army from 15 years old and onward. Then he moved up to California to work in the "campos" or fields, and had been working in Thermal and Dilleno for over 20 years. Hermana Long and Hermana Alverado met him as he stood by his short chain-link fence in one of the largest trailer parks along the 70 (street). He was quiet, stoic, and non-expressive, but they showed him a quick video and he agreed to allow them back. He told us later that in that moment, his heart began to open. Later we found out that all the churches in Thermal were after Esteban because he was always willing to listen. He even attended one for years, but refused to be baptized. Eventually, everyone began to give up. Esteban never said much, but boy could the man read. He began digging into the Book of Mormon, and absorbed everything. Esteban was highly intelligent, and we rarely had to explain things twice. As we taught him outside his trailer, his two grandkids, "Nonny" and "Chuey," would tear around and scream like banshees. When we invited him to be baptized, he hesitated. He took his dreams to be highly significant, and had one in particular where he would be walking towards a bolt on the wall, about to hang up an old military gun. This, to him, was a symbol of his repentance. Each night, he'd get closer to the wall. When he finally agreed to be baptized, he told us by saying simply, "last night I dreamed of a stream with cold, crystal water."
Esteban was so ready to be baptized. He read in the scriptures daily, and expressed sincere desires to serve and teach. He told us much later that an old friend had prophesied, years before, that he'd "meet two girls, and then he'd decide his path and choose to be baptized." One of the most special experiences of my mission was hearing Esteban bear his testimony of the church and the Book of Mormon. He became great friends with Hermano Esteves, and we began to call them "Alma and Amulek." When he moved to Dilleno for the Summer, I got him in contact with the elders there, where he helped one of the people they were teaching to get baptized. Long after his own baptism, he finally told us that more than 20 years prior, when he lived in Mexico, a close friend who always counseled him called him. "Esteban," she said, "one day 2 girls will come and then you'll decide whether to be baptized."
"I never understood," Esteban said, "until two missionaries showed up at my house."
JESSE ESPIRIQUETA
principally known as "Old Faithful", "The Jedi Knight" (as he dubbed himself), and "Latino Buddy the Elf" (dubbed by me). Jesse was all energy and fire. He met with missionaries several times over the years, but never paid them much attention until Hermana Miller and Stanfield showed up on his porch. "With them," he said, "I realized they were just sweet girls with something to tell me. My heart started to soften." Jesse was on baptismal date within weeks, and although he battled doubts and opposition from all sides, he never looked back once. A Zapotec Indian, he was fiercely passionate about dance, art, and storytelling, and was constantly sharing his culture with us. He wrote each of his missionaries a detailed "Tenali" which is a sort of horoscope which was terrifyingly accurate. He dubbed me "Yolohuitzi" or "Corazon de Colibri" --Hummingbird Heart. He decided shortly after I arrived that he needed to prove himself to God through a forty-day fast until his baptism. He'd fast during the day and eat and drink only at night, although it was high summer and he worked construction. Obviously this worried us, but Jesse was as stubborn as he was passionate and soldiered on, even going an extra day because he slipped up and sipped water once. The only way I could get him to break his fast was making him little PB&J sack lunches and leaving them on his porch. The day he finished he came to us in tears and told us, "It's done, and I know enough." His baptismal date had to be pushed out 3 times for family reasons beyond his control, but when Jesse committed to keeping a commandment, he meant it and never wavered. He'd write us long texts about his adventures, and send lots of bug emogis in case he was "bugging" us. They called him the "Lamanite" in the ward, which worried Jesse based on the face-paint and tribalism he had read about in the Book of Mormon. "Hermana, I love that stuff!" I told him not to worry, that Lamanites were kind of epic. His baptism was such a special experience, and he was immediately called as assistant ward-mission leader and later a councilor in the Elders' Quorum. Jesse's conversion, in his own words, was going from the "dark side" to a "Jedi knight."
He was super accident prone, and managed to get bit by a black widow spider (he made Spider Man jokes forever), get mugged and drugged (he called us higher than a kite and scared us to death because he couldn't remember anything), and had his appendix burst. He could never lay low for long, however, and on his bed-rest after his appendix operation started building a massive pirate ship in the front yard for Halloween. He would doggedly work with friends, family, and those the missionaries were teaching, just trying to help anyone take the right steps. Jesse could just take a cause and run with it. Before he ever got baptized he was involved with 3 different dances for the stake multicultural activities, including a "danza" or tribal dance with the primary. He once stopped for 10 minutes on the road to wait for a hedgehog to cross, which turned out to be a pinecone.
Jesse keeps me updated on his life, and recently told me, "I've chosen my path. No matter how hard it gets I'm never looking back."
HERMANO (BULMARO) RAMOS
Hermano Ramos had been going to the Agua Caliente branch for nearly 15 years when his wife Laura finally got him cornered by the sister missionaries and set up a lesson. He was a recovering raging alcoholic, drinking over 16 cans a day (we ended up cleaning all those cans out of his shed later...) until Laura told him if it continued she was done. This was the catalyst he needed, and he made a sincere decision to change. He began to meet with us weekly, and at first Hermana Ramos was very careful not to push him, inviting other sisters to the lessons so she wasn't even present. He'd been going to church but hadn't listened too well. Fortunately, it was quickly clear that deep down he had a basic and growing testimony. I arrived in the area for his second lesson, and he agreed to a baptismal date. I always thought of him as "Rip Van Winkle" because he'd always quietly lament to us "the years he had lost" drinking. His desire to live his life again, especially to be a part of his grandson's life, was what drove him to change. I always worried about him a little. He was so quiet during lessons and very infrequently gave us full answers, so it was difficult to gauge where he was at. I remember in one lesson Hermana Ciarlante feeling inspired to share the verse "when ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God," and him beginning to break down in tears. It shocked and touched us...he so deeply wanted to be involved, be a brother in the church, to serve.
His baptism was an absolute disaster. For one thing, we sort of ran the ward and were booked doing too many things. The elders promised to watch the font for us, but had a medical emergency and the whole thing flooded. Through a miscommunication, no one had notified the speakers, so after a clumsy devotional and getting hollered at in Spanish, he was baptized in dirty water. Everything was so chaotic, and everyone was so upset, everyone except Bulmaro. He was so quiet, furrowing his brow, quietly cracking jokes the way he always would. "Where's my karate belt?" he told us as he came out in his baptismal suit. When he found out we'd have to wait several hours before to refill the font if we drained it, he simply replied, "Me gusta mas con agua sucia." I remember asking him after the service, "Hermano, how do you feel." He began to choke up and told me with emotion, "Very, very excited."
After the baptism Hermana Ramos took control, and getting in to have the recent convert lessons was nearly impossible. He was baptised, they could get sealed in a year, and that was good enough for her. As a result, his little growing testimony never got as strong as I would have liked. He struggled a bit after I left, going inactive after some family drama on Laura's part and falling back into alcohol for several months. Last I heard he's doing much better now and active again.
ESTEBAN VARGAS
"The old general." Esteban was part of the Mexican army from 15 years old and onward. Then he moved up to California to work in the "campos" or fields, and had been working in Thermal and Dilleno for over 20 years. Hermana Long and Hermana Alverado met him as he stood by his short chain-link fence in one of the largest trailer parks along the 70 (street). He was quiet, stoic, and non-expressive, but they showed him a quick video and he agreed to allow them back. He told us later that in that moment, his heart began to open. Later we found out that all the churches in Thermal were after Esteban because he was always willing to listen. He even attended one for years, but refused to be baptized. Eventually, everyone began to give up. Esteban never said much, but boy could the man read. He began digging into the Book of Mormon, and absorbed everything. Esteban was highly intelligent, and we rarely had to explain things twice. As we taught him outside his trailer, his two grandkids, "Nonny" and "Chuey," would tear around and scream like banshees. When we invited him to be baptized, he hesitated. He took his dreams to be highly significant, and had one in particular where he would be walking towards a bolt on the wall, about to hang up an old military gun. This, to him, was a symbol of his repentance. Each night, he'd get closer to the wall. When he finally agreed to be baptized, he told us by saying simply, "last night I dreamed of a stream with cold, crystal water."
Esteban was so ready to be baptized. He read in the scriptures daily, and expressed sincere desires to serve and teach. He told us much later that an old friend had prophesied, years before, that he'd "meet two girls, and then he'd decide his path and choose to be baptized." One of the most special experiences of my mission was hearing Esteban bear his testimony of the church and the Book of Mormon. He became great friends with Hermano Esteves, and we began to call them "Alma and Amulek." When he moved to Dilleno for the Summer, I got him in contact with the elders there, where he helped one of the people they were teaching to get baptized. Long after his own baptism, he finally told us that more than 20 years prior, when he lived in Mexico, a close friend who always counseled him called him. "Esteban," she said, "one day 2 girls will come and then you'll decide whether to be baptized."
"I never understood," Esteban said, "until two missionaries showed up at my house."
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