It's early November 2015 still. It was the end of my first week in Las Torres and I felt like I'd already gotten a fair amount done (See "4th Area: Las Torres, Matamoros"). I learned the basics of my new duties, we taught some great people, I'd even gone on intercambios as the supervising leader and conduct a successful baptismal interview (See "Intercambios"). That Saturday, just before the Zone Leaders had the baptism of which I just spoke in the last blog post, "The Baptismal Interview", we got a phone call. I had been transferred to Las Torres on special transfers (for advancing leaders) but the officially scheduled transfers were to be announced that day. I had joked that “I’d better pack my bags for transfers!” knowing perfectly well that I’d been there a week and would not be transferred.
Maybe God heard my sarcasm and thought to teach me my lesson because the APs told my Zone Leaders that I was being transferred again! (See "Mission Administration"). When Elder Romano and Elder Uuh told me, I thought it was a practical joke; whether by my Zone Leaders or the Mission Offices, I didn’t know. But they were adamant that it was the truth and they couldn’t stop laughing.
They told me that I was being transferred to Buena Vista again! I'd be companions with Elder Montan who would be companion number 14. I’d spent the whole week whining to them about how grateful I was that I didn’t have to do intercambios in Buena Vista because I’d been there for so long and was tired of it. Admittedly, I didn’t have the fondest of memories (despite the lessons I now realize I learned). My Zone Leaders knew perfectly well that Buena Vista was my least favorite area (because of how slow the work seemed) and they honestly didn’t blame me for feeling so bitter for being there for so long (I'd previously served in Buena Vista for 5 months already). No wonder I didn’t believe them when they told me that I was being transferred back to Buena Vista of all places in the mission after having been in my new area for a week and enjoying it!
I might have cried a little. The others laughed more than pitied me. I repacked my bags which were never fully unpacked and we made arrangements for the shuffle across the way.
The next day was Sunday. I watched as all the church members walked into the chapel (See "Sabbath Day Observance"). I’d met several of them during that one week but most were unfamiliar faces. As I’m welcoming people, I do my best to smile and behave as any missionary would. Just then the Bishop of the Las Torres ward comes up to me, Obispo Cortez, shakes my hand, introduces himself, and asks if I would speak in Sacrament Meeting in about five minutes (See "Bishops and Shepherds" and "Be Ready Always"). I knew that it was a tradition in some Wards to give the new missionaries a chance to share their testimonies and introduce themselves to the ward but I figured that given the circumstances I would be an exception. I told him, “I’m actually being transferred in a few days”. He simply said, “I know. Would it be okay if you still speak?”. I was surprised but accepted the Bishop’s invitation, after all, until transfers I was still a missionary of that ward. I figured that even if it was one Sunday, I could touch somebody with my testimony, do my job, and contribute to the ward family.
Bishop didn’t tell me how long to speak for. Turns out that he and I were the only speakers so there was no rush to speak quickly. Before I got up, I thought about “What message would be of most worth to those here? This is my only chance.” The scripture found in Isaiah kept coming to mind:
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isa. 55:8-9).
I thought I would base my testimony around that scripture. I got up slowly and immediately testified of Jesus Christ, His Atonement, the importance of repentance, and how God loves all of us. I smiled as I looked calmly at all the faithful faces of new friends and strangers and testified how God loved them and how I loved them even though I just met them. “I don’t know many of you here because this is my first Sunday, but this is also my last Sunday. I’m being transferred to Buena Vista for the second time. I don’t know why but I know that God has His reasons. I know that God intends for us to improve and learn and maybe I just learned and did everything I needed to quickly in this area.” Maybe the only work God needed me to do in that area was the baptismal interview and now that I had done it, I had another work to do.
I shared that scripture with them in Isaiah and let them know how grateful I was even if it was only a week to be with them. At the end of it all, I was filled with peace knowing that God was in control. Maybe it was that someone needed me elsewhere. I didn’t know, but I went. I don’t know if a missionary served so briefly in an area as I did then.
BACK IN BUENA VISTA
My ride came to pick me up to take me to Buena Vista. You can imagine the joy I felt when I saw it was O.! (See "Ministering to the One") I ran and hugged him and told him how happy I was to see him again doing so well. What a great way to start things off!
He dropped us off at the house— the new house. The missionaries couldn’t handle what I had to handle in the old place and they had managed to find a house a few streets away.
I don’t know if I could call the new house an improvement from the last; all the pros and cons cancel out. This new house was easier to access without a bothersome staircase like the first house in Buena Vista, had a clima control in the bedroom to warm the house, and was overall larger among other pros. On the con side, the house had recently experienced pretty severe flood damage (from Hurricane Patricia; see "Eurus") so the whole place, especially the back of the house, smelled of mildew on top of the normal Matamoros humidity. That was one of the cons of living on ground level. The waters had ruined many of the teaching records in the area books, pamphlets, and other things in the storage room that were kept in boxes and filing cabinets. The walls were painted dark forest green which made the whole place feel dark and gloomy with bluish-green carpet to match. It was like living in a cave. We had a spare room in the back where we kept our clothes and used it as an exercise space and a place to heat our bathing water (which I talk about in the next blog). We all studied in the same room until we converted a spare room to be another warm space. We had an electronic keyboard which we never used. I didn't spend a whole lot of time in the kitchen but Elder Montan often cooked me things. At the time I lived there, it was late fall so our property was always surrounded by wet fallen leaves and overgrown grass. Lastly, our property was surrounded by a solid black iron fence even though we lived on a side street. It wasn't the best place but we made the most of it and did what we could to keep our spirits up.
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