You know you're a missionary when you teach a lesson to the nurse in the ER.
I guess when we are told to teach everyone we take it seriously. Now don't freak out (Mom). I did end up going to the ER this week, but I am still alive and preaching the Gospel. It was really neat though. One of the nurses came in and she asked me my religion and how long I had lived in Oregon for paperwork and so of course we used the opportunity. We started talking about missionary work and she was really interested. She had heard of the church, but didn't know much about it. She was so amazed that we put off school, work, and relationships to serve the Lord. We were able to bear our testimonies about the Restoration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and explain why we were here. It's definitely an interesting lesson when you are lying down on a hospital bed.
I am learning something new every day. This week I learned that Mexican food doesn't sit too well with my tummy. Also, I learned that missionaries can't say no to more food. These people are wonderful and make so much food for when the missionaries come over, even if they don't have very much money AND THEN they keep piling it on your plate. I haven't learned how to politely say no yet. . . One night as another serving was being heaped onto my plate my companion look over at my distressed face and started laughing and whispered "Welcome to the mission!"
I am understanding a lot more in the lessons, but sometimes I feel like I am back in the MTC for day one and I don't recognize any words other than "no" and "gracias" and sometimes "comida". On those days I watch Hermana Coca's face so that I smile when she does, look serious when she does, and nod when she does so nobody know that I don't have a clue to what is going on. It usually works out really well for me, but this last week we were at a door and I couldn't see Hermana Coca's face because she was standing slightly in front of me. I thought I heard the investigator say that she was coming to church on Sunday so I smiled really big. Bad move. She was offended because she was actually telling us why she couldn't come to church and she thought that I was laughing at her and calling her a liar. . . whoops. I guess mistakes happen, but even when I don't understand the Spanish, I understand the Spirit. I can see the changes in the faces of the most stubborn investigators as we testify of the Savior and his Restored Gospel. I can see it and I can feel it.
We had a baptism on Saturday for a family and the Spirit was definitely there. There were a couple bumps in the road that day. We were running late, the family showed up 15 minutes after we were supposed to start, and they got locked in the bathroom right before we were about to start. But they didn't take any of that as bad signs. They are truly converted disciples of Christ.
Yesterday we had an investigator come to church who has been investigating for a long time. She is an elderly woman who won't be with us much longer. In Sunday School the teacher asked her her name and where she was from. She stood up and went to the front of the room and said "I am Margarita. I am here because I died and I saw Christ on the right hand of God and so I know that they are two different people. They told me many things and told me that my work isn't done yet." It was so powerful. She is such a sweet amazing lady.
We visited some recent converts yesterday, two 12 year old twins. We talked about how they can share the Gospel on their own and we ended a with a prayer. The boy praying said (in English so I understood), "Bless the missionaries that they don't die so that they can keep teaching us more about you". It made us laugh, but I want to thank you all for your prayers. I feel them every day.
I love you all,