"Tender Mercies"

Here's the newest and latest from Sarah. In this installment, she continues to serve in Varese with Sorella Sharp, hits her year mark, makes new friends at the old folks home, and finds solace in her "main man" Bach and the words of Nephi.

10/28/15

Visitors

So I'm sure you've heard the really depressing story about how the ONE MORNING I was gone from my apartment the lovely Moody family [Sarah's uncle, aunt and cousins who live in Serbia] came and tried to visit me. I got back that night after a scambio in Torino and saw a bag of Chex cereal and some euro sitting on the counter and I was like "Wow cool! What is this!" My comp said in a very sheepish voice, "Let's sit down...." My stomach just dropped. As soon as she said that I started thinking of all the people I knew that were near or in Italy and the Moody's were the only ones I could think of. Slla Sharp explained to me that mid way through getting ready in the morning the citofono rang and they asked if a Sorella Christensen was there..... "Actually she is in Torino...." She said that they went down, greeted them. They took a picture with Slla Sharp and then off they went. Sure enough, I pulled a letter out of the bag and on the back of the already sealed envelope was written "We gave it the old Moody try! Keep pullin' Ralph!  We love you!" I think it was the thought of them driving all the way from Serbia to see their M.I.A. niece that undid me, along with the obvious longing to see familiar and much loved faces but I just started bawling. I mostly just feel really bad that they came out all this way for nothing. Man. I hope that they had other plans out here in the west... Anyway, then I went and took a shower and then I went straight to bed.

Sisters Conference

I will talk more about the Oscarson, Burton, Johnson conference later but, when the general authorities had all left and all the Sorelle were running around with their heads cut off acting like they loved each and every sister they saw like they had given them a life saving blood transfusion, I was observing the hectic scene before me, when I looked on the other side of the room and saw a sister sitting over in the corner by herself. She doesn't have any past comps because she is being trained, she is from Argentina, maybe a little on the weird side, and she didn't come in with any other Sorelle because she was the only one when she was in the MTC. I walked right over, sat down next to her and I was like "Well ain't this a sight?" She gave a nervous little laugh. I tried to strike up a little conversation but she wasn't biting. Fine by me. I would've much rather spent time with her, sitting quietly, than developing an ulcer with all the other missionaries. But I got to see McMurray so that was good. And the conference itself was great. Slla Burton said that one of the most sacred days since she has received her calling as Relief Society President was the day President Nelson asked if he could read his Oct 2015 conference to her "A Plea to My Sisters". She said things I had heard before, but as she talked I truly did feel the hope that things are changing in the church. Did you know that they FINALLY have women leaders on the councils of the church (the missionary council, the family history and genealogy council, and the priesthood and family council)? I mean, it is not too impressive seeing as it is 2015 but better late than never. And then I got some serious back up power from Sis Johnson who said that Cathedrals and other religious halls of worship should be reverenced because they show a people's devotion to God and Christ. She also said that The Madonna is one way that the Italian people reference motherhood and women. Take that all you Catholiphobic missionaries. So that was good.

Bill

We met this super cool guy on the train back to Varese. His name is Bill and he, get this, invented RED BOX. But even cooler than that, he is super sick action save the planet dope. He is working on this project trying to decentralize big businesses and make them more local so that the environment won't be as damaged by shipping and such. Basically have a red box like approach with food, water, and energy. We were talking about trying to create smaller fish farms in many locations instead of only a few in Norway, and China and somehow the fact that my whole family was a vegetarian came up and he was like "Nice. Walking the walk." And those were the very first kind words I've gotten from someone about being a vegetarian in the past year. I was so happy I almost cried. Usually it is, "Please tell me you're not an environmentalist green freak" or "You know that you aren't supposed to forbid people from eating meat, right?" or "It says in D&C to eat meat" or (my personal favorite, from a previous scambio. I'm telling you STLs are gold mines.) "Well, as long as you are doing it for health reasons and not because you love animals or something hahaha!" "Haha yeah. Because, like, having sympathy for, respecting, and loving other living organisms would be totally against the teachings of Christ. Wow you're so right." Anyway, it was really nice to meet someone who spoke English who loved the environment. Haven't met many of that breed in the past year. He is inviting us to dinner with his family at his villa. They'll be cooking vegetarian.

Stake Conference

So stake conference was fabulous. The area seventy that was visiting the stake spoke in the most monotone voice I've ever heard in my life. And it was great because every few sentences he would stop and they would translate which added to the excitement. It was about ward council and keeping church sacred but this was my favorite, "Sisters, you have the responsibility of taking care of children during the most sacred meeting in the church, that is, sacrament meeting." {Translation} "Sisters, the priesthood brethren would appreciate it if you would respect the sacredness of the meeting by taking your children out into the halls when they are disrupting the spirit of the meeting." My jaw dropped and I realized that maybe the change isn't actually happening as fast as I thought it was. Bless his heart.

Giuseppe, the Chestnut Man

Giuseppe l'uomo delle castagne! Giuseppe the chestnut man! So as soon as October hits the chestnut men come out in force with their giant metal round buckets of roasting chestnuts. Their chestnuts are amazing and the smell of roasting chestnuts just wafts through the air wherever you walk because they are in basically every main piazza. So next to our house there is a little piazza and we will sometimes buy chestnuts from the chestnut man. One day we asked him his name and he told us it was Giuseppe and we got to talking a little bit about the mission and such and he was just really cool. He was like, "Yeesh, a year and a half without your family trying to talk to people who probably don't listen to you that much." And I was like "Haha yeah, it is pretty rough sometimes but then we get to meet nice people like you and that is good. And anyway, I'm not on my mission to talk to people. I've realized the longer I'm out here that most of the time I'm really just here to listen."  He thought that was pretty cool. Apparently he has known the Sorelle in the past because we have always walked through that piazza to get basically anywhere. Anyway we were going to buy some chestnuts from him and he was like "Nah, these are on me this time." So yeah. I love him even more now. There is something a little magical about walking down a cobblestone street in centro at night, bundled up in your coat, looking at all the window displays, hearing the street buskers play their accordions or guitars or harmonicas, shelling freshly roasted chestnuts. That is something I really will miss. Also Giuseppe.

11/4/15

Year Mark

Speaking of Indian curry, it was a momentous week of my mission and you know what that means: Indian curry for lunch. It was actually pretty good. I got piccantissimo and it was ALMOST spicy enough. So yeah. Happy year mark to me. Onto the week:

Old Folks Home, Episode 3: The Artist

So here is the old folks home episode of the week. Sadly there was no dancing this time. But as soon as I walked in, this old lady in a flamboyant floor length trench coat came up to me and said she was an artist and said that she needed to paint a portrait of me and that she needed a picture of my "one profile and one at 3/4th because some people just have noses that are too weird for profiles." I hope she ends up painting a profile of me cause if my nose is too weird and she shows me a 3/4th portrait next week I am going to be offended. But anyway, we went upstairs to take a picture and she was like, "So, dear, tell me: which side of your face is better?" "Ummm, boh." "What do you mean 'boh'?! You ragazze these days don't know anything..." And then she went on to tell me that my right side was better because my eye is "less distorted" on that side. I guess I should just be flattered that she wants to draw my face, right? Anyway, it was pretty funny.

Halloween

I guess I'm kind of jumping all over the place but for Halloween we basically did nothing but finding and then had karaoke night. I killed it with Wannabe by the Spice Girls. And our ward mission leader sang "This Is Halloween" from The Nightmare Before Christmas and he had every word memorized. It was slightly unnerving but then there was a pumpkin cake and no name brand Coke, so a good time was had by all. Not that I have ever loved Halloween or anything, but holidays just don't really feel all that much like holidays on the mission. It basically just blows.

Re Silvio

So another little episode from this week was with Re Silvio. So I think I maybe told you he used to sing opera. So we went over this week and he had bought a record player so he could play his opera vinyls for us. WE LISTENED TO ALL OF LA BOHEME IT WAS BEAUTIFUL I WAS SO HAPPY. TENDER MERCIES. And then the best part was that there was randomly a second copy of the first vinyl of the opera and he was like, "You are in love with opera, aren't you?" And I was like "Yes. Yes I am" and he was like, "Here, this double copy doesn't serve me anyway. You can have it." So I have the first act of La Boheme on vinyl. I'm going to listen to it nonstop when I get home. And I will frame the sleeve it is in because it is beautiful. I was on cloud nine. I was so high in the happy clouds (no drug reference intended) that I wasn't even fazed by the rotten tomato that I was forced to eat that night. Puccini made it delicious. Or maybe God. Or maybe both.

The Monika Story

Okay so Monika is this 70 year old woman with white hair from Romania. She is a badante which is basically someone who takes care of an old person in their house. And also takes care of the house. So like a...I don't know, care taker? Is there a word for that in English? Anyway, we went over to her house earlier this week and it was a great lesson and so much love and she asked if there was someone in Italy who could baptize her and we were like, "Yeah I bet we could find someone." And then we feasted on boiled chestnuts (not as good as roasted. At all. Especially when you find HUGE meal worms under the shell) and walnuts and she was like, "This feels like a little party! I feel like you are my sisters!" And I'm telling you there was just so much love. And then she called her niece who lives in Corpus Christi Texas and talked to her for a little bit and that was cool. And we left the lesson and we were really happy and like, yay, look, fruits of our efforts!

And then two mornings later we got a call from Monika. Her anziana had passed away the next day in the hospital and she said that she would have to go back to Romania in two weeks. I don't know what it was but something about that bad news just undid me completely and I just sat on my bed trying to talk to her and plan something out and tears were just streaming down my face. I hung up the phone after forcing out a most tragical "va bene va bene ci sentiamo" and then just hunched over and sobbed for a bit. I was sad for Monika because she didn't have a job, I was sad for us because one of the only people who really wants to learn from us is probably leaving in two weeks, and I cried for myself because after a whole year on the mission I feel like very few good things happen when I'm in the city. I know it isn't true but I kind of feel like I bring bad luck with me in the mission. Like simps drop us when I'm in a city or appointments cancel when I'm on scambio or people have to leave the country when I start loving and teaching them. I know it's not true and it is hard like this everywhere, but...it just seemed like that at the time. Then my comp walked in with her bowl of cereal and saw that I was crying and was like, oh no what happened. And I told her and we both cried a little more and then we went outside and all I could muster to do that morning was ask people if I could give them a Because He Lives card. And literally no one was taking them. Every single person. No. No. No. No. But the last lady we passed before we went inside for lunch--I must've sounded really pitiful when I asked or was on the brink of tears or had red blotchy eyes still or maybe all three because I was like "Can I just give you this card about Jesus?" She said sure, and took it. I let out a relieved and exhausted "grazie mille" and just started crying right there and then on the sidewalk. Then we got kebab for lunch. Not a good morning. Besides the kebab. Even the most tragical kebab is delicious.

Anyway, the next day we went to see Monika and see how she was doing and we walked in and they were doing some Catholic rosary bead prayers with a bunch of the relatives and stuff. We went into a separate room to talk to Monika and she was actually doing okay. She is really orthodox and so she has all these oils and chalks and herbs and prayers that go with them that she is using to cast away evil spirits and help her feel safe even though she is living in an empty house now. And it was really sweet to see that she has a prayer book that her mom gave to her and that she is going to give to her granddaughter. There is something really beautiful and holy about religious traditions being passed down through the generations. When she was explaining to us about the sacred oil from Jerusalem and the holy chalk from Romania I could just really feel that these things were sacred and special to her and that between her and God, they were sacred and special too. I just really love it when you can feel that people love God. In whatever way they were taught to.

"Mighty Unto Deliverance"

So she invited us to the funeral which was Monday morning and we got there early and were sitting in the cathedral when the organist started pumping some serious Bach and I was like "yeeeeesssss I neeeed thiiiiiis" and then it ended and I was so bummed out that I leaned over to my comp and I was like, "I want him to play more." Five more minutes. Nothing. I lean over to Slla Sharp again. "I'm going to pray for it." Literally as soon as I bowed my head to pray that God would DJ me some more sick baroque tunes via his good ol' Catholic organist buddy in Varese Bach started baking again and I was like "Thanks God, you are such a bro," and he was like "Yes Sarah, I sure am." As I sat there in that beautiful cathedral with that inspired music shakin my bones I was thinking back on what I had read that morning in 1 Nephi 1:20 "And when the Jews heard these things they were angry with him; yea, even as with the prophets of old, whom they had cast out, and stoned, and slain; and they also sought his life, that they might take it away. But behold, I, Nephi, will show unto you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance." I've read that verse dozens of times. And I have always liked it. But I don't think I have ever really realized what it is that makes us "mighty unto deliverance." It isn't an unshakable testimony or a perfect faith that makes us mighty. It isn't even a hope for testimony or a desire to believe. It is the tender mercies of the Lord that makes us mighty. And I can feel that. I can even see that. The moments on my mission that I have felt the strongest and the most able were not the moments when I realized my own strength but the fact that God was with me. Strength is great and all that—having a testimony that allows you to be self sufficient is great too—but I'd take God over a perfect testimony any day. God's presence is what makes me mighty even unto deliverance. And it is through faith that I can see and feel his presence. I saw and felt and heard His presence in that cathedral that morning through my main man Bach. And in that moment, it was God that made me mighty.

The Monika Story, continued

So after that we went out to greet Monika and see what we could do to help. We saw Monika and she just said, "non siamo d'accordo" which means basically we aren't on the same page, we aren't in agreement. She said the family didn't want us there because we are from a different church. And then she walked inside and we were left outside kind of awkwardly standing amidst a family who didn't want us there. I'm not going to lie I was a little hurt and a little embarrassed. But we just left. And didn't really talk. I don't really know what is going on with that situation.

Lugano

So today we went up to Lugano Switzerland. It was beautiful and clean and one potato fry at Micky D's costs like four frank so we didn't really eat up there or buy any chocolate (sorry) but I'm sure Italian chocolate is good too. Anyway, it was a serene pday and there was lots of bus and train travel which is my favorite now because HOW BEAUTIFUL IS MY AREA? SO BEAUTIFUL. So it was a good end to a good week.

11/11/15

Old Folks Home, Episode 4: Carla

So this week I had two really good conversations with some of the younger volunteers about the church and one of them even asked if we could meet up sometime and talk more in depth about what are missions are and why we come. So that was really cool. We were also asked to start an English class for the old folks on Tuesday mornings. I'm telling you service is golden. Also, even if none of that happened, I still treasure (as does God) the experiences and the people there. Regardless of if someone wanted to hear about the church. So this week I sat next to this old lady named Carla who is basically blind but wanted me to help her color. They always have these little printed off pictures that they can color in with colored pencils. This week it was leaves. So I sat down and she started chattering away and I was holding her hand and helping her not color outside of the lines and every once in a while she would look up and gasp and say, "Oh, you have the most beautiful smile" and then she would put down the pencil and grab my hands and kiss them and stroke my face and tell me I was an angel and had stars in my eyes. Then she would look down at the picture again and say "What is it missing?" and I would help her start coloring again. A few minutes would pass and she would stop coloring and do the same thing again. This happened five or six times. It almost brought me to tears to tell the truth. I know that she maybe isn't all the way there mentally, but... you don't have to have complete mental stability to be close to God and to be able to feel what He needs you to tell his little missionary in Varese on Thursday morning. Even if maybe just two or three times would've sufficed.

Laura

Laura is the friend of an older couple in this branch. She is about 50, very Catholic and likes to talk. As do the members. Lessons are hard with the three of them together. But they are good. Usually. As long as the members don't call her and Mother Theresa out for praying to saints...or tell her about polygamy and then tell her all the reasons it was justified. Sigh. I feel like there is always something in every lesson with them where I bow my head down, keep my mouth shut, and hold back tears. But the lesson this week was pretty good. Especially because she asked the question, "So you think that I have to get baptized again because my Catholic baptism is invalid?" I tried to speak as honestly with her as I could when I told her that the relationship she has made with God in the Catholic Church (including baptism, cresima, etc.) is of value to me and of value to us and that we need her and her ideas in our church. I tried not to avoid her question but maybe it felt like it a little. But anyway, we had an excellent discussion about faith and repentance and changing ourselves and bringing ourselves closer to God. I really love her. I don't know what is going to come from all of this but I hope that she feels light and love from my testimony. So that is Laura.

Workout Videos

One little snippet into the real life of a missionary. Sometimes Sorella Sharp and I will get a bowl of cereal and sit down on our beds and watch P90X workout videos after planning at night. "Cummon Tony! Don't be a pansy! ~stuff choco pillows in our mouths~ Finish off the set you woosie!!" It's good fun. And watching all those workout videos is exhausting. We are straight tuckered out and ready for bed by the time 10:30 rolls around.

Transfer News

Okay, so transfer news. Sorella Palmer is coming to Varese to finish the last four weeks of her mission with me. (I think maybe I have mentioned, but this next transfer is only going to be four weeks long so that they don't have to send a group home on Christmas Eve.) She is from Australia. Oh, btw Slla Sharp is going to Prato which is right outside of Firenze. And Slla McMurray is being transferred to Como which means we can do Pday together. And I will see her at zone things. And I'll probably be with her for her last transfer here. 

Syrian Refugees

After we got transfer calls we took a train to Milano to go to a baptism and someone had left a copy of the Italian Economist on the train seat next to me. The front cover was a picture of a bombed out city and the heading was, "Syria: a world war" I had read an article earlier that week about service in the church and not turning away the refugee--literal or figurative (paralleling the story of the Good Samaritan). I put two and two together and that is how I found out about the war in Syria. That is how I found out. I'm a little mad and hurt that this has been going on for almost a month (More? Less? I don't even know) and no one has told me about it. I mean, refugees are trying to escape to Italy, the country in which I am currently a citizen, and I had no idea at all. No idea that less than a ten hour train ride away there are people being arrested as they try to find refuge from war and violence in my European nation. Yes, I'm a missionary, but I don't think that is grounds for me to be an uninformed member of my global community. I'm sure you thought nothing of it because I'm sure it is such big news everywhere that you would've assumed I would've known about it, but that is another thing that got me a little fired up. I'm serving a mission to love and heal for a church whose core teaching is to love and succor and reach out to those in need. Not even once have I heard anything in any church meeting about Syria. Not in a prayer, not in a comment, not in a lesson. It is like the members don't think it is their problem. In fact, the only thing I have heard related to this is that in a lesson with Laura and those members Laura said that she wished she could do more for the people suffering in the world and the members, get this, told her that they don't like to watch the news because it makes them sad and there isn't anything they can really do. The members then jokingly stated that it is better to be on a mission where we don't receive news updates and therefore don't have to worry and stress about the sadness and grief in the world. No. We are commanded by Jesus to succor those in need and if I can't do that then at least let me mourn and cry and hurt with my Syrian brothers and sisters as they lose their nation, their homes, and their families. I am aware that my knowing how things stand physically changes nothing. But emotionally things have changed a lot. Since Saturday I have been more aware of the underdog, the stranger, and the outcast. Maybe no one in Varese is a Syrian refugee. I doubt anyone is, frankly, but there are people here who are lost and hurt too. So I have been trying to be a better, more Christlike person by reaching out instead of turning away since finding out about my frightened and lost brothers and sisters in the east. 

Love you all, Sarah