Hola, this was a pretty good week. To
start off, we did some service Wednesday night for a member that's going
to move. One of his friends was there, and after we had done the
service, we all started talking, and an hermano said that he was a
recent convert, she asked what it was, and after explaining it, she said
"just like when I get baptized."
She said she
didn't want to go another week without church again. She said she owed
it to God. She came to church, and moved her work an hour later so she
could come, and it was testimony neeting, and everything was amazing.
She cried! I've really been learning about faith recently, and I see the
effects that grow from having it.
There was a
baptism we went to in the zone, and the man baptizing looked like he had
never baptized before, and the man hit his head on the font's steps. It
was all super awkward, but after, the bishop held a testimony meeting.
One of the investigators in the audience came up unnanounced and in
tears bore her testimony. She said something I'll never forget.
"My brother died last week. I'm not crying because he died, but
because of what the missionaries taught me: the Plan of Salvation."
She was amazing. Despite a super awkward baptism, the Spirit was still so strong. Here's something I learned.
"Giving him enough time to be out of sight, I said my last prayer—that
I wanted my family to know I loved them and that Jimmy could make it
home safely on his own—then I leapt. There was enough adrenaline in my
spring that the jump extended my arms above the ledge almost to my
elbows. But as I slapped my hands down on the surface, I felt nothing
but loose sand on flat stone. I can still remember the gritty sensation
of hanging there with nothing to hold on to—no lip, no ridge, nothing to
grab or grasp. I felt my fingers begin to recede slowly over the sandy
surface. I knew my life was over.
“But
then suddenly, like a lightning strike in a summer storm, two hands
shot out from somewhere above the edge of the cliff, grabbing my wrists
with a strength and determination that belied their size. My faithful
little brother had not gone looking for any fictitious tree branch.
Guessing exactly what I was planning to do, he had never moved an inch.
He had simply waited—silently, almost breathlessly—knowing full well I
would be foolish enough to try to make that jump. When I did, he grabbed
me, held me, and refused to let me fall. Those strong brotherly arms
saved my life that day as I dangled helplessly above what would surely
have been certain death.”
What I learned: As we
take our many leaps of faith, He is ALWAYS there to reach out and take
us and never let us go. Every time. Are we destined to fall? No, but to
acheive gloriously.
Even though we feel like
nothing is there, just gritty sand, He is there. Even though we feel He
is not answering, He is waiting breathlessly for us to take our leap.
That's from Jeffrey R. Holland's talk Where love, justice, and mercy
meet.
I love you all,
Love Elder Sant
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Gracias!