No Sugar Coating

Here I am.  Still in Santiago, Philippines.  Paying 20 pesos an hour to type an update in the only air-conditioned internet cafe in town.

I was mostly just sick to my stomach this week...

The literal sense of "sick to my stomach" for three of the days, then figuratively speaking for the last four days.  Ha!  I had vertigo.  I know that sounds so dumb.  But, last Sunday, I started feeling dizzy.  It was the weirdest sensation.  Monday, worse, but bearable.  Tuesday morning I woke up and stood up to get out of bed, And Then Woke Up On The Floor.  That day, our new Mission President was coming to our zone, so I made it to the chapel in the afternoon.  I felt like I was going to be really sick, but I didn't want to be "That Sister Missionary."  I was gonna fight it to the death.

The first thing the Mission President said to me was, "Are you OK?"  ha...classic.  Clearly, I looked like a hot mess.  anyway, I made it through the meeting, then he demanded that I go home and sleep.  But, sleeping hurt my head, too.  And we had so much work to do that day, so I got Sister Perlas to let us go teach a couple lessons that night.

I'm good though; I feel fine now.  Sometimes still dizzy but not falling on the ground....anymore.

The last three days, I felt sick to my stomach because of the things I saw.  I now understand why missionaries don't tell certain stories until they get home.  My heart was so vulnerable. I let myself get consumed with the things I don't like.  I made my own week suck.

But, I am doing my best to remind myself of certain things.  Everyday i tell myself what mom always says to me, "do one hard thing everyday."  Other times I remember when she would tell me to "just have a few seconds of courage," that's all it takes.

I often ask myself, "What would Scout Finch do?" (To Kill a Mockingbird reference).  Should I be asking, "What would Jesus do?"  Well, I say Scout because I've always wanted to be her.  Her courage is incredible.  She just doesn't care what anyone thinks...I mean, come on....she dressed up as a Ham for a school play.  But even when she's scared, she is courageous.  There was one day when we were walking past a really poor area, and I saw a kid fall off this wall, and the mom started beating his brother for it.  As she was hitting him, I yelled, "No!" and ran over and stopped her, and just stared at her almost about to cry...and then she just dropped the stick and walked away.  My companion was annoyed because I'm not supposed to get into peoples business like that...but it was all instinct.  I didn't even know what was happening in that moment..but, I hated that day.

OH! my mission president and his wife!  They are mom and dad.  Literally - I think Sister Rahlf is my mom.  They were introducing themselves at our zone meeting and showing us a whole Power Point about themselves.  Sister Rahlf reads Jane Austen novels...I got teary when I heard that.  I thought, "MY mom reads Jane Austen novels.  My mom likes to do the things that you do.  Are you my mom?"  And the president is just so great.  I am so grateful for them.  They're American...so I love them.  They are hilarious, but nobody really gets that because Filipino humor is...different.  So nobody, but...me was laughing at their jokes.  Anyway - I'm grateful for them.

We're finishing up our lessons with a new sister.  She's a recent convert, so after they are baptized, we keep teaching them and kinda hand them off to the ward members to take care of them.  She is great.  So Little.  So Cute.  AND her four year old son is one of the smartest little boys I have ever met.  BUT, last week she told us that her husband left for "work" 5 days before and hadn't come back...yet.  She was worried.  When we went back to check on her, she said he still wasn't home.  They were left with no money and hadn't eaten in days.  And...her husband isn't coming back.

I don't know Tagalog.  But, I know how to grocery shop...eh, sorta. SO - Sister Perlas and I stopped by the market, and I said, "Sister Perlas - you get all the crazy Filippino ingredients, and I'll get the normal stuff."  We got them rice, all kinds of mystery meat canned "goods," cookies, crackers, milk, candy, and even some perfume to make her happy.  Later we put the food on her doorstep and ran away.  It was my favorite part of the week.  The next day we went to teach her and her little son came and said to us, "Thank you for the food."  We told him we didn't know what he was talking about.  The Sister said that earlier that day he was eating some candy and sharing with the other kids in the neighborhood and kept telling everyone, "The Sisters brought me this."  Her little son also told us that his mom cries a lot.  I told him when she cries he needs to give her a big hug and a kiss. So, yesterday at church this sister said, "Whenever I cry, G. comes and give me a hug and kiss and tells me that 'the sisters said I needed to do this to make you feel better."  Sister C. is a saint.  There is a beautiful place being prepared for her in heaven.  I know it.

I know I'm so privileged to be here.  Sometimes I have to find it in my heart though - like my love and my purpose.  I strive each day to be better.  I KNOW Heavenly Father is aware.  So that's a comforting thought.  He know us..He knows our desires and our needs.  He loves us more than we can understand.  And that's why I'm here - to help people recognize that and to continue gaining a relationship with Him through this Gospel.  This Gospel - what I love so much - is why I'm here.