I just googled "churches in Detroit" for fun, and found just short of 1900 churches in the city of Detroit. Now, that seems like and is a lot, however none of the LDS churches were listed (so there probably are other churches left out) and I'd thus assume that 1900 may be a little less than generous number. A taste of some of these are Fenkell Gospel Temple, Linwood Church of Christ, Landmark Temple of Deliverance, Flowery Mount Baptist Church, Canaan Missionary, Household of Faith, Masjid Wali Muhammad, Greater New Light, New Bethel, New Birth Church, New Jerusalem, and my favorite named church; Shrine of the Black Madona of the Pan African Orthodox Christian Church. All of these mentioned churches were on the same road on a stretch of maybe two miles, and not all the churches on that stretch have been mentioned. Now, I think my fellow MDMers would back me up in saying anyone in Detroit can start their own church if they want to. If not in a building, small groups could meet in a house as long as they have a prophet, a commodity quite easy to come by. The following is a story of one such group, taken from my journal near the end of my mission:
"We were riding to a media referral, but contacted a guy in his front yard. He invited us to come in and talk to him, so we locked our bikes in the backyard and went in. When we entered he went down to the basement, then came back up. Another man followed, then another, then a woman and so forth. One of the women hugged us, and one of the men let their plan slip. "How did you hear of this New Jerusalem?" he asked my companion. We just looked at each other puzzled and moved into the living room. It took some time for all the "brothers and sisters" to gather together. When everyone was there, we asked if we could have a prayer. They excitedly linked hands in a prayer circle. We were in a circle, when a few of them left the circle to shift places with each other. What started next is the most demonic prayer I've heard. As one of them prayed, everyone in the circle (except me and Elder Gillen) added their, "oh yes"s and "thank you God"s along with many others. In the meantime, the woman holding my hand was squeezing it like nothing else. She had to be doing it as hard as she could because it felt like my bones were smashing together a little. Also, I peeked and saw she'd tensed up her whole arm as if she was flexing (The darn woman is lucky I didn't squeeze back, I'll tell you what). Following the prayer everyone was clapping and chanting amens, while that woman continued clinching my hand for several extra seconds. Then, while everyone was still enjoying the spirit of the Devil, she opened the door and told us to get out now. Elder Gillen was curious and asked why. I however was fine with the request and started getting my bag handy. The others begged her to let us stay. She thought she had read my companion's mind, and she shared with the group what he'd been thinking. This amazed them and they began clapping again, but these weren't actually what he'd been thinking anyway. They let one man ultimately decide if we would leave or stay, and he permitted us to tarry (dangit).
They gave us time to talk, so we shared a condensed Restoration lesson with emphasis on the Book of Mormon. We said we'd let them share a copy if they would commit to read from it and pray to know if it's true, which they accepted. They then got that excited look on their faces again (the one they had each time they clapped). Then the man who originally let us in gave us his rundown. He told us of a miracle book written by a man in our very midst: "The one and only, the prophet Moses!" They all pointed to the relaxed Moses and started clapping for him. They said it cost $20, but if we read it within 30 days and give them a written testimony we could get $7 back. They yapped and yapped about how great the New Generation of Jerusalem is. We asked what religion they considered themselves to be. The answer we received, "REAL-igion!" These pogo-sticks are so confused and so lost. It's nuts how uncomfortable the spirit we carried scared the spirit each of them had been possessed with. There was no light in their eyes."
As I mentioned in introducing this story, this is all a direct copy of my journal from the day-of to this blog. This is really a part of Detroit. I miss walking those streets wondering when the next crazy thing is going to happen. However revisiting these things puts me in my place about how lucky I am to have what and who I have in my life.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
A Hole
I've mentioned before how incredible Ann Arbor, Michigan is. One of the coolest things about it is the amount of diversity the University of Michigan brings. I met people from what seemed like every foreign country while I was there. One such man was Nic Jain, from India. His basement had flooded because the heavy clay surrounding his house created a pool of water against his house and together cracked the foundation. I was one of the four elders who agreed to help this nice man with this problem.
June 29th - Work began on this project. We dug a little against the wall of the house until we uncovered the crack in the foundation. We patched the crack, so leaking would stop, and made plans to prevent future cracks and leaks. There's typically a layer of pea gravel underground a ways to allow a less dense (that freaking clay) place that water can run off. The plan was to dig a hole down to the gravel, then fill the hole mostly with new gravel so water would never pool against this part of the house again. We dug the first couple feet and called it a day, making plans with Nic to come finish on July 4th, at 10:30 (ie just after studies).
July 3rd - (Note: This part of the story would be much better given in person. Having watching Apu from the Simpsons for 16 of the first 19 years of my life I've developed a pretty okay, Indian accent.) We got in for the night and called the Hill Street elders to confirm our plans. Elder Wade said Nic had left a message saying we should start at 8:00 because, "Elder Ledbetter likes to get an early start!" Considering our daily schedule consisted of two-hours of scripture study from 8 to 10, we could all only laugh at the ridiculousness of him saying this. Nic then called us and said Elder Wade was hoping to get started early. We couldn't believe this dude was lying to us when we were already willing to help.
July 4th - Anyway, he offered to make us breakfast so we decided to move our studies up an hour, and told him we'd be there at 9:00. BIG mistake! It was clearly the first time this man had ever made oatmeal, which I say because it was basically like eating chunky water. It was so bad that midway through my bowl when he announced he'd now be making us toast, his voice sounded like an angelic choir. Bread, a toaster, and jelly and butter packets he'd obviously stolen from IHOP.... can't go wrong there right? WRONG! Minutes later he brought us each a piece. We expected toast, but were blessed with crackers, completely blackened and sprinkled with stale crumbs from previous uses of the toaster. We choked down that round of toast and, before he made more, we taught Nic how to empty the crumbs from the machine which had never been done. With two slices of "toast" and a bowl of "oatmeal" in each of us, we were ready to go to work on the hole.
Really the next few hours (I do not recall how much time we actually spent) were a lot of fun. Clay is super hard to dig, and the deeper we got, the harder it was to lift it out, but it was a great time with three friends and an experience I'll never forget. We dug, and dug, and played the movie game while we dug, and told mission stories while we dug, and it was a blast. However the longer we were there, and the deeper we went, the more ludicrous our task seemed. We kept expecting to hit the pea gravel but it just wouldn't come. Three feet down, nope. Four, five, six, seven feet. Nope. Time passed and finally we stuck the gravel and rejoiced! We had dug a hole in clay wide enough for the four of us to stand in and nine feet deep (on stomachs filled with only the breakfast described earlier).
July 14th - Time between digging the hole and now had been used doing actual missionary work. We had placed a board to keep too much water from going in the hole, but simply didn't have the time until today to fill the hole with gravel. In the meantime, we'd been receiving calls from Nic all the time. He seemed to have all the time in the world to accept our help, while we truly had no time to finish the project until now. We went to his house and filled the hole, put a thin layer of the original ground on the top and the project was finished. Throughout the project, he'd continuously been telling us how much he wants to hear what we have to say about the church when we get done, so we pulled out our planners to see when we could arrange a lesson. Turns out July 14th is the last day he has any time to do anything, so we were unable to set up an appointment. (For the rest of my time in Ann Arbor, he never met with us, nor talked to us again.)
I'll leave interpretation of the title of this blog to you. Does it describe four elders bonding while digging a nine foot deep hole, or does it describe a man who "abused our kindness and fed us the worst oatmeal ever distributed unto man?" Or maybe both?
June 29th - Work began on this project. We dug a little against the wall of the house until we uncovered the crack in the foundation. We patched the crack, so leaking would stop, and made plans to prevent future cracks and leaks. There's typically a layer of pea gravel underground a ways to allow a less dense (that freaking clay) place that water can run off. The plan was to dig a hole down to the gravel, then fill the hole mostly with new gravel so water would never pool against this part of the house again. We dug the first couple feet and called it a day, making plans with Nic to come finish on July 4th, at 10:30 (ie just after studies).
July 3rd - (Note: This part of the story would be much better given in person. Having watching Apu from the Simpsons for 16 of the first 19 years of my life I've developed a pretty okay, Indian accent.) We got in for the night and called the Hill Street elders to confirm our plans. Elder Wade said Nic had left a message saying we should start at 8:00 because, "Elder Ledbetter likes to get an early start!" Considering our daily schedule consisted of two-hours of scripture study from 8 to 10, we could all only laugh at the ridiculousness of him saying this. Nic then called us and said Elder Wade was hoping to get started early. We couldn't believe this dude was lying to us when we were already willing to help.
July 4th - Anyway, he offered to make us breakfast so we decided to move our studies up an hour, and told him we'd be there at 9:00. BIG mistake! It was clearly the first time this man had ever made oatmeal, which I say because it was basically like eating chunky water. It was so bad that midway through my bowl when he announced he'd now be making us toast, his voice sounded like an angelic choir. Bread, a toaster, and jelly and butter packets he'd obviously stolen from IHOP.... can't go wrong there right? WRONG! Minutes later he brought us each a piece. We expected toast, but were blessed with crackers, completely blackened and sprinkled with stale crumbs from previous uses of the toaster. We choked down that round of toast and, before he made more, we taught Nic how to empty the crumbs from the machine which had never been done. With two slices of "toast" and a bowl of "oatmeal" in each of us, we were ready to go to work on the hole.
Really the next few hours (I do not recall how much time we actually spent) were a lot of fun. Clay is super hard to dig, and the deeper we got, the harder it was to lift it out, but it was a great time with three friends and an experience I'll never forget. We dug, and dug, and played the movie game while we dug, and told mission stories while we dug, and it was a blast. However the longer we were there, and the deeper we went, the more ludicrous our task seemed. We kept expecting to hit the pea gravel but it just wouldn't come. Three feet down, nope. Four, five, six, seven feet. Nope. Time passed and finally we stuck the gravel and rejoiced! We had dug a hole in clay wide enough for the four of us to stand in and nine feet deep (on stomachs filled with only the breakfast described earlier).
July 14th - Time between digging the hole and now had been used doing actual missionary work. We had placed a board to keep too much water from going in the hole, but simply didn't have the time until today to fill the hole with gravel. In the meantime, we'd been receiving calls from Nic all the time. He seemed to have all the time in the world to accept our help, while we truly had no time to finish the project until now. We went to his house and filled the hole, put a thin layer of the original ground on the top and the project was finished. Throughout the project, he'd continuously been telling us how much he wants to hear what we have to say about the church when we get done, so we pulled out our planners to see when we could arrange a lesson. Turns out July 14th is the last day he has any time to do anything, so we were unable to set up an appointment. (For the rest of my time in Ann Arbor, he never met with us, nor talked to us again.)
I'll leave interpretation of the title of this blog to you. Does it describe four elders bonding while digging a nine foot deep hole, or does it describe a man who "abused our kindness and fed us the worst oatmeal ever distributed unto man?" Or maybe both?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
I'm Catholic, I don't need Jehovah
The title you have just read is just one of the hundreds of funny things people said to be over the course of two years while tracting. I think most who have served missions would admit that at the start of their mission, tracting wasn't their favorite thing. It was scary. It was hard work. It was difficult to see whether what we were doing had any affect. The majority of us have these feelings initially and over the course of time either let them continue, or learn to embrace tracting. I for one learned to love it! Not only were some of the funnest (and funniest) experiences of my life had during tracting, but also some of the coolest people I've ever met were met while tracting.
Tracting is the door-knocking part of missionary work. If you're not teaching, you should be finding. Tracting was our chance to knock on doors with no idea of who would be on the other side. Now that it has been defined, I will give a few short experiences I've had. Expect more of these in the future, because there were far too many to post in one blog.
Powerup Guy - I don't like Japanese cartoons, but I'm aware there are times in them when characters will "power-up." They will be alone on the screen, standing there, while seizure causing blinking lights are going on. Once the character is sufficiently powered-up he procedes to go berserk. This story is an example of me being too much of a smart alec and what it caused a grown man to do. I'm assuming it had been a long day, and hope I wasn't a jerk very often, but here it is. "The man opened the door and I told him we were sharing a message about Jesus Christ. He readily replied, "I'm not interested," and I said, "You're not interested in Jesus Christ?" He responded in a delightfully humorous way. He actually did a powerup! He closed his eyes and clinched his teeth. He stood there and all of his muscles got tense and he started shaking. At the top of his lungs, he they yelled, "Get lost!" We bid him farewell and a pleasant night."
Alien Expert - "We met a man today who went by the name Mr. Greencircle who was pretty weird. I don't really now how to describe him other than sharing some of what he told us in all seiousness. He said that aliens from space are all around us and that the government is trying to find a way to allow them to live among us everywhere. The biggest problem they face in accomplishing this, he said, was that aliens usually die after three years of living on Earth. Yeah, that really does sound like a problem, Mr. Greencircle."
Jesus Experts - "We met a couple awesome people tracting today! One of them, Danny, has seen a spacecraft. He also told us that Jesus thought the world was flat. He insisted that if Jesus knew the Earth was round he would've let everyone of his time know. I assured him that it doesn't really matter whether Jesus knew or not (but frankly, if you believe the Jesus is God and that he created the Earth, he probably knew it was round...). We met someone else today that actually knows Jesus. We showed him the picture of Jesus visiting the Nephites. He was familiar with it, and said he had been there this morning. Hahaha, it was grand!"
Christmas Cheer - "Today while tracting a single street we met a man who has taken all the missionary lessons before, a woman who teaches catechism, and a friendly minister. We then met a lady who had a Book of Mormon with her and a testimony of it. She's not LDS or a member of the Community of Christ, but of something called the Restoration Branch Church. Next we approached a man asking if we could share our message with him. He told us to get away, so we asked if we could help him with his car (my companion is a mechanic). He told us again to leave, so we began walking away, and I said "Merry Christmas." He responded with "#@!* you!" and as we walked further away he called us jerks."
If these stories don't convince you that I loved tracting maybe stories of someone trying to break my hand, or a naked couple I stumbled accross, or a plethora of people calling the police on me will convince you that it was awesome. Those will wait for another week though.
Tracting is the door-knocking part of missionary work. If you're not teaching, you should be finding. Tracting was our chance to knock on doors with no idea of who would be on the other side. Now that it has been defined, I will give a few short experiences I've had. Expect more of these in the future, because there were far too many to post in one blog.
Powerup Guy - I don't like Japanese cartoons, but I'm aware there are times in them when characters will "power-up." They will be alone on the screen, standing there, while seizure causing blinking lights are going on. Once the character is sufficiently powered-up he procedes to go berserk. This story is an example of me being too much of a smart alec and what it caused a grown man to do. I'm assuming it had been a long day, and hope I wasn't a jerk very often, but here it is. "The man opened the door and I told him we were sharing a message about Jesus Christ. He readily replied, "I'm not interested," and I said, "You're not interested in Jesus Christ?" He responded in a delightfully humorous way. He actually did a powerup! He closed his eyes and clinched his teeth. He stood there and all of his muscles got tense and he started shaking. At the top of his lungs, he they yelled, "Get lost!" We bid him farewell and a pleasant night."
Alien Expert - "We met a man today who went by the name Mr. Greencircle who was pretty weird. I don't really now how to describe him other than sharing some of what he told us in all seiousness. He said that aliens from space are all around us and that the government is trying to find a way to allow them to live among us everywhere. The biggest problem they face in accomplishing this, he said, was that aliens usually die after three years of living on Earth. Yeah, that really does sound like a problem, Mr. Greencircle."
Jesus Experts - "We met a couple awesome people tracting today! One of them, Danny, has seen a spacecraft. He also told us that Jesus thought the world was flat. He insisted that if Jesus knew the Earth was round he would've let everyone of his time know. I assured him that it doesn't really matter whether Jesus knew or not (but frankly, if you believe the Jesus is God and that he created the Earth, he probably knew it was round...). We met someone else today that actually knows Jesus. We showed him the picture of Jesus visiting the Nephites. He was familiar with it, and said he had been there this morning. Hahaha, it was grand!"
Christmas Cheer - "Today while tracting a single street we met a man who has taken all the missionary lessons before, a woman who teaches catechism, and a friendly minister. We then met a lady who had a Book of Mormon with her and a testimony of it. She's not LDS or a member of the Community of Christ, but of something called the Restoration Branch Church. Next we approached a man asking if we could share our message with him. He told us to get away, so we asked if we could help him with his car (my companion is a mechanic). He told us again to leave, so we began walking away, and I said "Merry Christmas." He responded with "#@!* you!" and as we walked further away he called us jerks."
If these stories don't convince you that I loved tracting maybe stories of someone trying to break my hand, or a naked couple I stumbled accross, or a plethora of people calling the police on me will convince you that it was awesome. Those will wait for another week though.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Warren Love
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, so I felt it was appropriate to share a story of love. However, I could think of no interesting love stories from my mission, so am giving you something a little different. It takes place in one of the funnest places of my mission, Warren, MI. For those of you who have never heard of Warren... when Eminem says he's from Detroit, he means he's from Warren.
We had met a man named Bill a couple times. He had two rottweilers (Rosie and Rocky) that were pretty wild, so his house was in commotion. He invited us in to teach him though, and was very friendly. On our second visit we met his girlfriend, who's name I do not know (Yes, I somehow recorded the dogs' names but not the girlfriend's). Though I couldn't pinpoint it, something struck me as very odd about her. When we left I found out my companion had about the same opinion. A few days passed since this first encounter with "The Girlfriend" when Bill made it into our backup plans in the evening. We had a scheduled lesson which our investigators needed to postpone for a few minutes, so we went to see Bill in the meantime. The following is taken from my journal (If you've read my blogs before, specifically Fallen Angel, you know things might get intense. So jump to any conclusions as you read to guess what happened.):
"...We went, expecting to find Bill there and be welcomed in. I knocked and a minute later Bill's girlfriend answered the door. "Is Bill around?" I inquired. "He's resting." I said, "Alright, we'll let him keep at that. Could you just tell him we stopped by?" She stared at me, right into my eyes, for probably 15 seconds and finally said, very softly, "He doesn't live here anymore." I thought to myself in confusion... Firstly, all his cars were still there. Secondly, she doesn't even live there. She lives next door. Thirdly, Rosie and Rocky were still there... I said, "That's weird. He just sort've ... disappeared?" "Umm hmm." "Huh. when did all of this happen?" She continued looking into my eyes and didn't answer me. She looked more terrified than anything I can imagine. After a long pause from sound I asked, "Is there anything we can do to help you?" She blinked but didn't answer. After another long pause I asked her if she was alright and after another long pause I again asked, "Are you sure there's nothing we can help you with?" We finally left and told her to take care. She didn't close the screen door till after he had cleared the driveway and neared the car. We waited in the car to keep an eye on the place for a few minutes, then we went to meet our investigators for a lesson..."
"... We drove by Bill's house at the end of the night. I was looking closely at the windows to see if anything had changed. It all looked the same except that she was now sitting on the porch bench by herself. It was 9:00 at night, and in the low 30's at best and she was just sitting quietly there. I'm not sure what happened, but I am sure that she was horrified. The more I think about it, the more I feel like she's done something terribly wrong and was so terrified because we caught her almost in the act. Again, she looked more terrified than anything I have ever seen. It was seemingly straight out of a horror movie..."
----- Okay, if you haven't come up with a solution as to what happened, don't read on yet. My opinion was that she killed Bill. Eye-contact is a pretty cool thing when you're talking to your friends, or to a lovely you're interested in, right? Yeah well, this lady was staring into my soul through my eyes for a really long time without saying a word. It was terrifying! A week later we got the courage to go back to Bill's. -----
"We caught the answer to the mystery of Bill's girlfriend today. Bill is alive! We stopped by and talked to him and learned that she has mental ailments and was off her meds. Right now, she's actually in a hospital getting treatment."
In a way, this whole thing is a love story, and a happy ending one at that. Bill lived, and his insane girlfriend was put in an institution. Happy V-Day! I love you!
We had met a man named Bill a couple times. He had two rottweilers (Rosie and Rocky) that were pretty wild, so his house was in commotion. He invited us in to teach him though, and was very friendly. On our second visit we met his girlfriend, who's name I do not know (Yes, I somehow recorded the dogs' names but not the girlfriend's). Though I couldn't pinpoint it, something struck me as very odd about her. When we left I found out my companion had about the same opinion. A few days passed since this first encounter with "The Girlfriend" when Bill made it into our backup plans in the evening. We had a scheduled lesson which our investigators needed to postpone for a few minutes, so we went to see Bill in the meantime. The following is taken from my journal (If you've read my blogs before, specifically Fallen Angel, you know things might get intense. So jump to any conclusions as you read to guess what happened.):
"...We went, expecting to find Bill there and be welcomed in. I knocked and a minute later Bill's girlfriend answered the door. "Is Bill around?" I inquired. "He's resting." I said, "Alright, we'll let him keep at that. Could you just tell him we stopped by?" She stared at me, right into my eyes, for probably 15 seconds and finally said, very softly, "He doesn't live here anymore." I thought to myself in confusion... Firstly, all his cars were still there. Secondly, she doesn't even live there. She lives next door. Thirdly, Rosie and Rocky were still there... I said, "That's weird. He just sort've ... disappeared?" "Umm hmm." "Huh. when did all of this happen?" She continued looking into my eyes and didn't answer me. She looked more terrified than anything I can imagine. After a long pause from sound I asked, "Is there anything we can do to help you?" She blinked but didn't answer. After another long pause I asked her if she was alright and after another long pause I again asked, "Are you sure there's nothing we can help you with?" We finally left and told her to take care. She didn't close the screen door till after he had cleared the driveway and neared the car. We waited in the car to keep an eye on the place for a few minutes, then we went to meet our investigators for a lesson..."
"... We drove by Bill's house at the end of the night. I was looking closely at the windows to see if anything had changed. It all looked the same except that she was now sitting on the porch bench by herself. It was 9:00 at night, and in the low 30's at best and she was just sitting quietly there. I'm not sure what happened, but I am sure that she was horrified. The more I think about it, the more I feel like she's done something terribly wrong and was so terrified because we caught her almost in the act. Again, she looked more terrified than anything I have ever seen. It was seemingly straight out of a horror movie..."
----- Okay, if you haven't come up with a solution as to what happened, don't read on yet. My opinion was that she killed Bill. Eye-contact is a pretty cool thing when you're talking to your friends, or to a lovely you're interested in, right? Yeah well, this lady was staring into my soul through my eyes for a really long time without saying a word. It was terrifying! A week later we got the courage to go back to Bill's. -----
"We caught the answer to the mystery of Bill's girlfriend today. Bill is alive! We stopped by and talked to him and learned that she has mental ailments and was off her meds. Right now, she's actually in a hospital getting treatment."
In a way, this whole thing is a love story, and a happy ending one at that. Bill lived, and his insane girlfriend was put in an institution. Happy V-Day! I love you!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Harassed by a Loon
After arriving in Michigan, I spent my first months in the beautiful city of Ann Arbor. The city is distinguished by numerous trees and home of the University of Michigan, and the infamous Big House. It is also home to some oddballs including a man who suits up in a woman's bra and squirts people with his water gun while riding his bicycle, and to the woman referenced in the following story.
I had been in Ann Arbor for a week and a half when my trainer and I spent an afternoon street contacting downtown. Our encounter with an average looking woman found at a newspaper dispenser is preserved, as the dialog between us was recorded that day.
"... we were passing by her and said, "Hello. How are you doing?" She turned and looked at our name tags, then it started. "I'm Roman Catholic." "Okay, ma'am. Well ...." "Bye!" She interrupted. She turned us around and as we told her to have a good day, she began reading the newspaper aloud in a state of ignorance. We walked away and began speaking with someone else. During this conversation, she passed by saying, "I know who you are. We talked before. I remember, two tall guys." She continued onward and crossed the street. Our conversation ended and we began walking again. There was that crazy loon, now staring at us from across the street! As our proximity to her shortened she started shouting, "You guys are weird! You are weird!" We passed her by, but she followed and continued her shouting. "This is the second time you've done this to me. You better never interrupt me when I'm reading the newspaper!" She continued after us for a few minutes still shouting. As we were able to distance ourselves further, her words became more interesting. "Are you a weird cult? Oh ho, you are, you're a weird cult!"
Okay lady who's been following and shouting at me for some time, you're right, I'm weird."
I had been in Ann Arbor for a week and a half when my trainer and I spent an afternoon street contacting downtown. Our encounter with an average looking woman found at a newspaper dispenser is preserved, as the dialog between us was recorded that day.
"... we were passing by her and said, "Hello. How are you doing?" She turned and looked at our name tags, then it started. "I'm Roman Catholic." "Okay, ma'am. Well ...." "Bye!" She interrupted. She turned us around and as we told her to have a good day, she began reading the newspaper aloud in a state of ignorance. We walked away and began speaking with someone else. During this conversation, she passed by saying, "I know who you are. We talked before. I remember, two tall guys." She continued onward and crossed the street. Our conversation ended and we began walking again. There was that crazy loon, now staring at us from across the street! As our proximity to her shortened she started shouting, "You guys are weird! You are weird!" We passed her by, but she followed and continued her shouting. "This is the second time you've done this to me. You better never interrupt me when I'm reading the newspaper!" She continued after us for a few minutes still shouting. As we were able to distance ourselves further, her words became more interesting. "Are you a weird cult? Oh ho, you are, you're a weird cult!"
Okay lady who's been following and shouting at me for some time, you're right, I'm weird."
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Fortune Cookie
Serving in the Warren area, I became associated with a member by the name of Won-Tai Kim. Won-Tai was originally from Korea, but had been in Michigan for a number of years on a work visa. His red corduroy jacket and bright-orange framed glasses typify this man's personality. He was full of energy and always laughing, and also a great help to us as missionaries. He was always willing to teach with us, and would be our member-present at least twice every week. He became a good friend over the short time I was around him. It is from him, that I learned the saying, "What in the Sam Fong?".
During an October General Conference, Elder Russell M. Nelson gave a talk about the gathering of scattered Isreal. Throughout the scriptures and especially in the Old Testament, we read that the time will come that all the tribes of Isreal will be gathered together again. Elder Nelson, talked about the early days of the church and how at that time, this gathering was being realized physically. As the church grew, more missionaries would preach the gospel, more people would be baptized and in most cases make the trek from the Eastern states or Europe or wherever to where the body of the church was; ultimately in the Salt Lake Valley. Elder Nelson then talked about missionary work, and that today the gathering of Isreal happens a bit differently. It has become a spiritual gathering rather than a physical one. He mentioned that the gathering place for the saints now, is in the place they already live.
We were sitting a few rows behind Won-Tai during this talk, and I caught some humor when Elder Nelson said, "The gathering place for Korean saints is in Korea." I looked at Brother Kim after the words were said and noticed him chuckling a little. For the next two weeks, this became a standing joke. Whenever we'd see him, we'd remind him that his gathering place was in Korea, and ask him what he was still doing in Michigan.
On preparation day, two weeks after conference, Won-Tai said he wanted to take us out to lunch. We went to the Bankok Cuisine in East Pointe (as a side note, this was my first experience with Thai food and it was fantastic). The meal started normally, and we talked about some of our investigators and other normal things. Then he told us he had news for us. Learjet, the company he worked for, had been going through lay-offs for awhile and he had just been layed off. What made the news bigger is that his work visa had expired, which meant if his current employment status changed he would in actuality have to move (gather) back to Korea. It was crazy to think that something we'd been joking about for two weeks ended up happening to him. He had about three weeks from then to get everything in order and leave the country. We thanked him for his help and told him how much we'd miss him.
To this point, this story of course has no relation to the title (The Fortune Cookie), right? Well at the end of the meal, our server brought us each a fortune cookie. Won-Tai's fortune cookie was perfect, so I wrote it in my journal:
"Pack your bags. You are bound for an exciting destination to the far east."
Won-Tai is back in Korea, and is now happily married and expecting a newborn baby in March.
During an October General Conference, Elder Russell M. Nelson gave a talk about the gathering of scattered Isreal. Throughout the scriptures and especially in the Old Testament, we read that the time will come that all the tribes of Isreal will be gathered together again. Elder Nelson, talked about the early days of the church and how at that time, this gathering was being realized physically. As the church grew, more missionaries would preach the gospel, more people would be baptized and in most cases make the trek from the Eastern states or Europe or wherever to where the body of the church was; ultimately in the Salt Lake Valley. Elder Nelson then talked about missionary work, and that today the gathering of Isreal happens a bit differently. It has become a spiritual gathering rather than a physical one. He mentioned that the gathering place for the saints now, is in the place they already live.
We were sitting a few rows behind Won-Tai during this talk, and I caught some humor when Elder Nelson said, "The gathering place for Korean saints is in Korea." I looked at Brother Kim after the words were said and noticed him chuckling a little. For the next two weeks, this became a standing joke. Whenever we'd see him, we'd remind him that his gathering place was in Korea, and ask him what he was still doing in Michigan.
On preparation day, two weeks after conference, Won-Tai said he wanted to take us out to lunch. We went to the Bankok Cuisine in East Pointe (as a side note, this was my first experience with Thai food and it was fantastic). The meal started normally, and we talked about some of our investigators and other normal things. Then he told us he had news for us. Learjet, the company he worked for, had been going through lay-offs for awhile and he had just been layed off. What made the news bigger is that his work visa had expired, which meant if his current employment status changed he would in actuality have to move (gather) back to Korea. It was crazy to think that something we'd been joking about for two weeks ended up happening to him. He had about three weeks from then to get everything in order and leave the country. We thanked him for his help and told him how much we'd miss him.
To this point, this story of course has no relation to the title (The Fortune Cookie), right? Well at the end of the meal, our server brought us each a fortune cookie. Won-Tai's fortune cookie was perfect, so I wrote it in my journal:
"Pack your bags. You are bound for an exciting destination to the far east."
Won-Tai is back in Korea, and is now happily married and expecting a newborn baby in March.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Fallen Angel
Okay, so this is one of the craziest things I was involved in, in Port Huron, and the a bit of background is essential. We were teaching two unmarried couples that happened to be friends with each other. One couple, which I will call the Zimmer team, had been evicted from their apartment and the other couple, Rob Hornyak & Carlene Nicols, had allowed them and their cat (Angel) to temporarily live with them. Together we called this group the "Zimyak Team." The Zimmer team had stayed longer than expected and somehow a lot of tension was building amongst the four adults now living in the same bedroom. My journal entry reads as follows:
"... the big news of the day is the Zimyak team! We went over for a lesson before the soup kitchen and taught Rob and Carlene (Hornyak team). While we were there, the Zimmer Team was out apparently looking for a real job. We finished up the lesson and went to serve at the soup kitchen at 11:30. Rob was leaving for work and Carlene said she had school in a bit.
When we got in for the night, Carlene had left a message for us to call her. We were in the apartment for just a couple minutes when she called again. She told us that she had been arrested and released after the Zimmer Team accused her of killing Angel, their cat. Carlene said, she had found the cat dead and wet in the sink when she got home from school. Also, she found a window to be broken. She wasn't sure who had broken in to drown the cat.
Some time passed. Elder Whitchurch and I discussed what may have happened. They had recently kicked out a roommate... maybe he came in the house and did the deed. He knew the Zimyak Team much more than we likely do. He knew that framing this horrific scene would tear them apart.
We then got a call from Bro. Zimmer. He told us that he had bad news. That Carlene had killed Angel and they've packed their bags and left. We inquired and he told us some details. The cop said the cat died around 12:30 (One hour from when we left! We were playing with that cat today, dangit!). Carlene had a bandaged up hand with teeth and scratch marks when the Zimmer Team got there. We asked Fred (Zimmer) if he knew what time Carlene's classes were. He told us 12:30, but that she didn't go today!
When we were at the house today, she was reluctant to get ready when Rob asked her why she wasn't. She was very quiet, perhaps more so than usual. She knew when to expect the Zimmer Team home, and once Rob went to work she would have the house, and Angel, to herself.
I can vividly picture what her slow-moving person looked like as she handled the innocent cat into the water. The horrid thought that she'd killed a cat with water, something it's naturally afraid of, plagues my mind. Our baptismal candidate is a cat-killer!"
"... the big news of the day is the Zimyak team! We went over for a lesson before the soup kitchen and taught Rob and Carlene (Hornyak team). While we were there, the Zimmer Team was out apparently looking for a real job. We finished up the lesson and went to serve at the soup kitchen at 11:30. Rob was leaving for work and Carlene said she had school in a bit.
When we got in for the night, Carlene had left a message for us to call her. We were in the apartment for just a couple minutes when she called again. She told us that she had been arrested and released after the Zimmer Team accused her of killing Angel, their cat. Carlene said, she had found the cat dead and wet in the sink when she got home from school. Also, she found a window to be broken. She wasn't sure who had broken in to drown the cat.
Some time passed. Elder Whitchurch and I discussed what may have happened. They had recently kicked out a roommate... maybe he came in the house and did the deed. He knew the Zimyak Team much more than we likely do. He knew that framing this horrific scene would tear them apart.
We then got a call from Bro. Zimmer. He told us that he had bad news. That Carlene had killed Angel and they've packed their bags and left. We inquired and he told us some details. The cop said the cat died around 12:30 (One hour from when we left! We were playing with that cat today, dangit!). Carlene had a bandaged up hand with teeth and scratch marks when the Zimmer Team got there. We asked Fred (Zimmer) if he knew what time Carlene's classes were. He told us 12:30, but that she didn't go today!
When we were at the house today, she was reluctant to get ready when Rob asked her why she wasn't. She was very quiet, perhaps more so than usual. She knew when to expect the Zimmer Team home, and once Rob went to work she would have the house, and Angel, to herself.
I can vividly picture what her slow-moving person looked like as she handled the innocent cat into the water. The horrid thought that she'd killed a cat with water, something it's naturally afraid of, plagues my mind. Our baptismal candidate is a cat-killer!"
Friday, January 7, 2011
The Apple
The question was raised as to the minimum number of bites it would take to consume an entire apple. My MTC district set out to determine the answer by scientific experimentation. Experimentation was done, and I was able to eat the apple (including everything except the stem) in THREE bites. Later non-believers of the Zone were silenced as the 3-bite feat was performed again during dinner time.
As the rest of my short time at the MTC drifted away, new friendships were established with new missionaries than I. My time became far spent and word had gotten around at the wonders my mouth could do. I felt I owed it to my new found friends to eat an apple in three bites for them. The following is taken directly from my journal, and describes the event:
"... it was announced that I'd be doing it for my last time, so all eyes were on me. "Three bites, no way, you can't do that!" I grabbed hold of that apple and I bit it. Eyes were widened. I had just eaten nearly half of the apple with my first bite! "Oh my gosh! He's actually gonna do it!" I looked at the remainder of the apple and knew what had to be done. My thoughts were echoed by my dear friend Elder Clarke, "Oh dude, Beaver, two bites, you're gonna do it." Attention was magnified and many were speechless. This is when I got cheers and chants of, "Beaver! Beaver!" I looked that apple in the core and brought it to my teeth. Further and Further into my mouth it went until it was all the way back. All I had to do was close my mouth and I'd be set ... Applause was given, and an ovation from the crowd. It took awhile to maneuver it and chew it fully, but I got the job done."
Apples can be eaten in TWO bites.
As the rest of my short time at the MTC drifted away, new friendships were established with new missionaries than I. My time became far spent and word had gotten around at the wonders my mouth could do. I felt I owed it to my new found friends to eat an apple in three bites for them. The following is taken directly from my journal, and describes the event:
"... it was announced that I'd be doing it for my last time, so all eyes were on me. "Three bites, no way, you can't do that!" I grabbed hold of that apple and I bit it. Eyes were widened. I had just eaten nearly half of the apple with my first bite! "Oh my gosh! He's actually gonna do it!" I looked at the remainder of the apple and knew what had to be done. My thoughts were echoed by my dear friend Elder Clarke, "Oh dude, Beaver, two bites, you're gonna do it." Attention was magnified and many were speechless. This is when I got cheers and chants of, "Beaver! Beaver!" I looked that apple in the core and brought it to my teeth. Further and Further into my mouth it went until it was all the way back. All I had to do was close my mouth and I'd be set ... Applause was given, and an ovation from the crowd. It took awhile to maneuver it and chew it fully, but I got the job done."
Apples can be eaten in TWO bites.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)