"Far away is only far away if you don't go there"
--- George Otis (Author; 1953 - Present)
I feel very fortunate to have been raised in a community where everyone pretty much knew everyone. A major reason for that was that most of my neighborhood attended the same church and got to see each other at least weekly. I could drive up and down the streets of my childhood neighborhood and tell you who lived where and a memory I had of them. In many ways, the other members of our church became like a second family to me. Aside from church, I had many opportunities to serve them and socialize with them. But I am grateful for the sense of community that comes with religion (See "One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism"). But speaking of the world at large, I think we can all do a little better at loving our neighbors as ourselves. You don't have to go far to find someone to serve.
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It was now early March 2016. As we so often did, we were struggling in more ways than one. Life as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is hard, no doubt about it. At the top of that list was exhaustion from the sheer amount of walking which seemed to take up most of the day even though San José was relatively small. I wondered what was to be improved upon, “What would a smart missionary do?” (See "Yard Work, Hard Work, Smart Work"). As I thought about how we were working, I also reconsidered where we were working. A lot of the time, it felt like we were lapping the boundaries of our Area --- walking in circles. It wasn’t a paper route! We always strived to seek inspiration on where to go and what to do but if we wanted to, there was nothing wrong with knocking on every house for good measure; in fact, it's a rather methodical and productive approach. However near or however far we walked was on us. From the time we left our front door to the time we returned, everything in between was ultimately of our own making. Even though we couldn't control the results we had with people, we controlled the chances we took.
To give you a sense of how close we were to the church building, you could see the tip of the white steeple from our front door. By now, 19 months in as a missionary, I’d taught countless lessons but only a small percentage of people we taught ever came to church which was just as big of a hurdle as the other commitments and commandments (See "Sí, Dios Quiere!"). As a new missionary about a year and a half earlier, I favored houses that looked welcoming. I'd imagine a family waiting for us on the other side of the door and becoming friends with them. After all, who can blame me? Friendly-looking houses are easier to approach than scary-looking ones. Other times, however, I became so desperate to find anybody that sometimes I approached houses for no reason other than “I am a missionary. I invite all to come unto Christ. Why not this house?”
There is a scripture that reminds us of our responsibility to choose and act for ourselves:
"For behold, it is not meet that [God] should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward." (D&C 58:26)
Although I believe that we should always strive to live by the spirit, especially as a missionary, that doesn't excuse us from our responsibility to make our own choices, and to do things without always needing to be told to or knowing the reason for them (See "Choices"). Such applies when helping others. Sometimes, it's a good enough reason to do something knowing that it is a good thing to do. In our case, it applied when choosing which house to try our luck on without having to feel anything special about it at first glance.
We were walking down a long stretch of the street just a couple of blocks south of home. We came to the lane that intersected the street leading to the chapel just a hop skip and a jump around the corner. Taking into account how challenging it was to get people to come to church on Sunday, I fantasized, “If we found someone here, it would be so easy for them to come to church!”. I stopped and looked at the closest house which happened to be a house on the corner. It was an ordinary cubic house like any other in the cookie-cutter neighborhood except that it appeared completely abandoned. There was no car, no plants except weeds growing out of the cracks in the concrete, no grill, no toys, no decorations of any sorts, and even the house itself was colorless. Silence. Everything indicated the house was vacant. The black one-way glass door made it impossible to be sure if life was to be found within. My preferred method of door approaches involved people who left their doors ajar (a common thing to do when it was hot). That way, it was easy to tell if someone was home and easier for us to make our presence known. But abandoned homes weren’t uncommon. I'm not talking about "nobody home". I'm talking about nothing left but an empty shell of a building. A ghost town of one. A place squatters or criminals might take an interest in. I suspected that this house on the corner might be one of those, but I put aside my assumptions and knocked anyway because we had nothing to lose but potentially a minute or two of our time. It took a minute of quiet patience but Elder Mullins and I were surprised when a woman cracked the door just wide enough to peak out. That's when something wonderful overtook me. I am sure it was the Holy Ghost. The best way I could describe was that it was like I was on autopilot while the spirit steered the conversation fluidly (See "A Still, Small Voice"). Instead of overthinking things, that meeting was one of the most natural conversations I think I'd had with a stranger in a long time. I don’t remember everything I said, years ago now that it's been, but it was unlike anything before. I thought I’d tried it all by now but this was new. I didn’t do the rote rehearsal --- the ordinary introduction --- of who we were and the invitation to hear a spiritual message. Neither did I take the passive route and start with irrelevant small talk to break the ice. But just the same, it felt very casual and effortless. Whereas I was usually pretty anxious meeting people at the door because we were usually turned away, I can only describe this experience as pure bliss and self-confidence. Maybe it was the heat. I stopped talking and listened (See "Listen").
We learned that she’d been meeting with the Jehovah’s Witnesses for a few months. As soon as she said that, a very clear voice spoke to my mind, “If this woman has been meeting with the Jehovah’s Witnesses for months, she’s obviously looking for answers. She obviously hasn’t found them if she’s been visited for months and still hasn’t taken a stand” (Especially since our ideal investigator could get baptized in three weeks). But let me just add, that I have nothing against Jehovah's Witnesses. There are good people in every religion and walk of life. (See "One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism")
I was direct. Instead of jumping to teach, I asked sincere questions based on what I was hearing and feeling from her. I asked, “Isn’t it tiring to be visited by so many different churches that all claim to be the better church? It’s confusing. We don’t want to be like that. We are here to help you figure out the truth for yourself (See "A Still, Small Voice"). We won’t force you and we're not here to convince you. We just wanted to invite you to learn something you’ve never heard before and to come to church just once so you can discover how you feel about it” (See "Apostasy and Restoration"). I obviously must have said something that she needed to hear. She asked where the church building was. We indicated it was the one around the corner with the basketball court behind it. Of course, she knew it; it was next door! She opened up more and more as we made casual but direct conversation. (See "Sí, Dios Quiere")
As we're talking, her tall teenage son comes walking up with a ball under his arm. It's evident he likes sports. He’s a little shy but we invite him to come to play soccer or basketball at the chapel with the other youth. The woman kept indicating she was pressed for time but we asked if we could come back. She agreed. The whole time, I am inexplicably happy. We quickly jot her information down in our planners to come back another time to the house on the corner.
THE TRANSFER
That Sunday, I was with Hermano Salazar in his car picking up people for church on a semi-rainy day. Elder Mullins was with another person doing the same. I'll admit that it felt a bit wrong to be separated from my companion, to be on my own albeit with another member of the Church, but it was the only way we could pick up everybody. To my complete panic, I get a phone call from the Assistants to President Morales (APs; see "Mission Administration"). As District Leaders, most of the phone calls we got were from our Zone Leaders so a call from the "A.P.s", especially when I wasn't with my assigned companion, Elder Mullins, was a scary surprise, especially when we were already racing to pick people up to get to church on time. I wondered why the Assistants would be calling me directly instead of the Zone Leaders like the normal chain of command usually went.
He said, “Elder Robertshaw, how are you doing? Did everyone get to church?” I indicated how we were in the middle of rushing to make it to church on time but we were doing our best. They asked, “Do you like San José? How’s the work?” I confessed that we had some struggles but that I was optimistic and happy to be there. It was small talk that ended up being irrelevant once he cut to the chase:
“We have transfers. We’re moving you to be District Leaders with Elder De León in Bugambilias (Boo-guhm-bee-lee-ahs)”.
Bugambilias would be my 7th Area and Elder De León would be companion number 14 (in 19 months mind you). My heart sank a little. To be honest, I thought that maybe someone asked me to be transferred, namely Elder Mullins. I knew he wasn’t the happiest with me at times for a number of reasons, some of which were justified. But to be able to pass along the news to him, I asked who Elder Mullins' new companion would be. It was going to be Elder Chagoya whom I'd met early on in Rio Bravo (See "1st Area: Monterreal. Rio Bravo"). I was happy for Elder Mullins because I knew they were good friends from what I'd heard. Nevertheless, I think Elder Chagoya was only with Elder Mullins for a brief time as well after me.
I’d had a dream that previous night that Elder Fortaleza was my Zone Leader (See "On the Third Day"). I woke up wondering if Elder Fortaleza was being transferred to us. When I found out that I was being transferred, I had to ask. Sure enough, Elder Fortaleza was going to be one of my Zone Leaders in my new Area.
Just a week or so earlier, Elder Mullins and I found ourselves on top of a rare three-story house that belonged to a member of the Church. We enjoyed the beautiful sunset and the bird's eye view of the Area that we felt such stewardship over and responsibility for. From up on the rooftop, I felt such love for everyone as far as the eye could see. Although I wish I could have done more for all of them, I am grateful for the individuals I did get to serve.
I’d only been in San José for a total of two months but the Lord was again calling me to another part of His vineyard. I didn’t know what to expect from Bugambilias but I half wondered if I would finish my time as a missionary there. I only had four months left.
I got a phone call from Elder Mullins a few weeks later telling me excitedly that the family who lived in the house on the corner was going to be baptized. That made my day! I knew that God had answered our petition for help and it didn’t matter that I wasn’t there to witness it. It was satisfying to know that even in my last days, after being led by the spirit, I was a forerunner for another special missionary to see them through to the end. (See "6th Area: San José, Reynosa")
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