Another week has come and gone to who knows where, and I'm back to emailing all of you again! As always, it's been really good to hear from all of you and hear how everyone's been doing. And just so you know, I take time to write everyone who writes me, so please, feel free to send me an email. I’d love you hear from everyone! It sounds like the weather has been cooling down in a big way back home in Utah, and the opposite has been happening here in Tamatave. As of late it has been consistently in the nineties, and always humid. It's all good though, as that means my shirts get steamed for free every day I go outside to work (which is, to say, every single day of the week). But it also means my shirts progressively get closer and closer to the color of cantaloupe, and farther and farther from the white they used to be, as the brown stains simply do not come out. No matter how many times I wash them or how much bleach I use, it doesn't do much good. I've attributed this to the fact that the water is the same color as the sweat stains in my shirt. So now, my best hope is for the brown color to blend together, so the entire shirt is that color, rather than stained that color in a few choice places. So, hohitantsika (we will see) where this all goes in weeks to come.
Anyway, I did not receive any questions from my mom this week, so I will dive right in on the two main stories I'm going to share in this email. The first is more of an overall experience than a specific story, and is with regards to Brother Pierre. First of all, Brother Pierre was baptized about five years ago, and has been faithful ever since. He is currently serving as the first counselor in our branch presidency, and is doing a great job at it. His job is loading sand into boats and moving it down the river, but he also has ten cows that he milks and then sells the milk for extra income. Just with those characteristics in mind, he already seems like a great guy. But, there is still more. The first time he ever came to church as an investigator, his bike was stolen--by a member--from the church courtyard. And yet he still came. After he got baptized, he worked night and day to save enough money to attend the temple and be sealed to his family for eternity. Finally, he saved enough, and about two or so years ago he went. But then, as he was in the process of going through the temple, someone stole his street clothes and normal dress clothes out of his locker INSIDE the temple. Most Malagasies, who are a very superstitious people, would have immediately left the church if those two incidences of theft had happened to them with relation to the same church. But not Brother Pierre. He remained faithful and is still faithful to this day. What makes that even more amazing is that he lives a good eight miles OUTSIDE of Toamasina, which is a good forty-five minute to an hour bike ride. Now, we as missionaries have a hard time getting people to come to church if they live five minutes down the road. But this man faithfully road his beat-up, single gear bike for that entire hour to church every single Sunday. And still does (though now he has saved up enough money to purchase a moto a.k.a. vespa). He is the perfect example of being truly converted to the message of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Anyway, the point of me explaining about this man is because Elder Christiansen and I had the incredible opportunity of biking out to his house last Wednesday, visiting with him and his wife, and sharing a little vatsim-panahy (spiritual thought). That was such an awesome opportunity, and his testimony of the gospel really helped strengthen my own. But even besides the fact of it being an opportunity of spiritual upliftment it was a cool experience. The most enjoyable part was most definitely the spiritual strength received from the experience, but it was also kind of a fun new experience as we got to try fresh milk from his cows. And when I say fresh milk, I don't mean like in reserve. I mean as we sat there, Brother Pierre's wife walked out the door, milked the cow, boiled the milk over a fire, and then served it to us. Kind of pretty darn cool, I thought. And it was super good too: VERY creamy (my mom, however would not have liked it, as she thinks skim/1% milk is the best level of creaminess, which I do not understand at all). But that was a nice little cherry on top of the whole incredible experience.
So that was the first big story of the week (and I apologize for it being so lengthy). But here is the second story of the week: first off, sometimes as missionaries we go on splits with other missionaries in our zone/district. The missionaries in our district are Elders Alex Ahlstrom (sorry I haven't said this until now, Mom), Godfrey, Wootan, Elder Ahlstrom's trainee (whose name we do not know yet), and Elder Christiansen and I. Anyway, on this last Friday, Elder Wootan (our District's Leader) went on a split with Elder Christiansen, which left Elder Godfrey (Elder Wootan's companion) to work in my area by ourselves. This may not seem like a problem, until I reveal the key information that Elder Godfrey was in my MTC group. He has been here only six weeks, just like me, and we were out, alone, working in a strange land among strange people who speak a strange language that neither of us really understand very well. So. That was the most interesting day of my entire mission, as we were still expected to work the entire day, teaching all the lessons that we had planned. I don't think I've ever said so many prayers in one day... But that's about all I could do. I said some prayers, and went to work. And then a miracle happened. In every single lesson, I was able to understand about 90% of what everyone said, which was sufficient enough for me to answer their questions, resolve their concerns, and pull the lesson together fairly well (which, in and of itself, is a miracle all its own). I only had problems understanding one of our investigators, but that was understandable, seeing as he has progressed the farthest and the fact that even Elder Christiansen has a hard time understanding him. So, all things being considered, I was pretty much (by most definitions) fluent in the Malagasy language for a day. And I can promise each and every one of you that there was no way I could have done all that I did this last Friday without help from On High. It simply would not have been possible without some influence from the Spirit of God and the Gift of Tongues that accompanies it. This experience built my testimony in a huge way, and I know even more than before that the Lord is on my side--and by my side--as I am out here working in Madagascar. I am doing what God wants me to be doing, and He will always be there helping me along the way as I continue to do those things that He would have me do.
So, those are the two big stories of this week. Other than that, it has been another great, lesson-filled, sweaty, hard (but fulfilling) week. That is how it is on the mission. It really is the hardest thing I have ever done, and will remain so for the rest of my life. It is not just a vacation for two years in some cool place where you get to teach a few churchy lessons every once in a while. It is hard work, because as the Lord says through Isaiah, "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." The Lord asks us to do more than we are used to, and that is because we are asked to follow Him. And, seeing as His ways are higher than ours, there will be some stretching involved. But, as stated by God in very reliable source, "There will be times when you will be stretched to your limit, and your heartstrings will cry out for assistance. In those times I would counsel you to stand still and remember whose hand is doing the stretching..." The reason God stretches us is because He needs us to improve, to grow, to learn. And no sort of growth is possible without hardships and trials. In how many instances do we hear from popular culture, movies, and other media about people who accomplished great feats that they did not think were possible at first? Countless times is this same situation repeated throughout the world. But those aren't just stories. That is real. That is what God does. He asks us to do incredible things, and then as we try our best, we are stretched, and through His help, assistance, and loving guidance, we are made more than we were before. That is the point of life: to repeat that process again and again, and constantly grow and learn and overcome challenges, then consequently become better because of what we have done. As we do so, we are following Christ's admonition to become more like Him. For because He was perfect, He is our goal. And as we do those things that God has asked us to do, we will come closer to accomplishing that goal: our goal to be like Him. The comforting thing about this goal, though, is that we are not asked to accomplish it. We are asked to try: to do our best and give our all. If we do that, then through the grace of Christ (which was discussed in the last email) we can be made perfect, God-like, and whole. For "The Spirit beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if it so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together" (Romans 8:16-17). So yes, we suffer in this life: but only for a time. And then, after the suffering, comes the event of being "glorified" with God and Christ at our side. I know that if we work hard--allowing ourselves to be stretched--then God will glorify us, and we will inherit His kingdom.
Again, I apologize for how lengthy (and possibly boring, depending on the perspective) my ramblings were in this email, but I felt impressed to write down these thoughts. I miss you all, but I know I'm where God needs me. I pray everyday that life will continue to treat you all well, so I hope things are still going well for you all. So, as always, until next week!
Love,
Elder Hyrum Snell
P.S. I'm sorry to talk about challenges and growth a lot again, but it's kind of a topic that's on my mind a lot lately, seeing as everyday brings with it a new set of challenges.
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| Elder C. and I after a member family played a joke on us at one of our soiree's (activities with members). They rubbed this black paint stuff all over our faces. I thought we looked pretty funny, so I decided to send it. FYI sorry it's blurry, it was taken by a Malagasy; 'nuff said. |
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| Elder C. and I with one of our investigators named Aldo (he's the one who is really hard to understand). Also taken by a Malagasy, it was premature, so I was not yet smiling. So don't judge my slightly-dazed look. |
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| This picture is of us with Aldo and Farantina, who we teach together. I was feeling slightly Polynesian at the time (for whatever reason), so I decided to throw up a hang-loose sign (Elder Mack, you should be proud of me, carrying on the tradition in Tamatave). And for those of you who are judging me and calling me a vazaha (derogative Malagasy term for a foreigner/not native) for doing a hang loose sign, hey, at least I'm smiling in this one. :) |
