Hey,
So I know I'm not really supposed to say "Dude" as a missionary but DUDDDDDDEEEE. If this week had a face I would punch it. I contemplated jumping off the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. Maybe something would save me, because nothing could save our investigators this week. Someone told me that if you eat a maple bar, slurpee, and some hot cheetos that 7 investigators will drop you in one week. Or was it the other way around? Last time I checked there are only 7 days in a week so if I did the math correctly...that is ONE A DAY. Let's just say, it was rough. The tears were falling as heavy as the rain. Ok, enough with the emo rant.
Who wants to hear a dog story? Right on. So it's been a while since I gave a good canine fireside chat. So our golden of all golden investigator, Peggy, who I recently nicknamed Deviled Peggs because she ignored our phone calls, voicemails, texts, and doorbell rings for 4 days straight....was not baptized on Sunday. She was so by the book golden it was too good to be true. So when she cancels our appointment and then doesn't get back to us for nearly a week, we whipped out the black clothes, lit a candle and held a vigil to mourn the loss of our golden girl. Jk. But we really did get worried. So it was the fourth night that we hadn't heard back from her and we figured we had nothing left to lose by going over to her house and banging down the door like it was on fire. It was my turn to say a quick prayer in the car before we went in to her apt building. I remember asking for some way that we could get through to Peggy and to help us recognize what that is. I open the door and get out. A car pulls up and parallel parks behind us. A young mom with a toddler age son begins unloading bags and bags of groceries. Lightbulb goes off. This must be Peggy's nextdoor neighbor she was telling us about. If we help her bring in her groceries, maybe God will let us talk to Peggy. (I know what a Heathen thought) Anyway! She actually agrees to let us help. No one. And I say NO ONE ever lets us help them bring in groceries even if it's obvious that they need help. But we don't need to be told yes twice and we head with her upstairs. She unlocks the door and invites us inside to drop off the bags on the kitchen table. Sis Welch goes in and I wait by the door. Just as the lady tells us that she is dogsitting her friend's palmeranian it goes running towards the door in a pink lampshade of a head cone. For some reason I feel like I should move out of the way and let the dog run out the door. Against all reason and logic, but I go with it. So here goes the dog in a cone running outside in the dark down to the waterfront. Greaattt. So the lady, her 2 yr old son, and Sis Welch and I go taking off after this dumb dog named "Polka Puppy" and spend no joke like 30 min trying to catch it. It was snarling and showing teeth so we were in no rush to grab at it bare handed. I get the idea to tell the lady to take off her sweatshirt and throw it over the dog like a sheet. It works and we catch the blasted thing. Meanwhile the whole gallavant around the neighborhood trying to catch this cotton ball on wheels shreeking like we were trying to scalp it, was causing enough noise and ruckus that it woke Peggy up and when we walked back up to her apartment after catching the dog, she answered the door!! Wahoooooooooo. MIR...AH...CULL. Turns out she ate some tainted prawns at a chinese buffet and she had been sick for the past week in the bathroom or in bed. And we thought that she hated us! She came to church yesterday, we taught her at a member's home and she is back on date to be baptized this Saturday. Polka Puppy strikes again.
The fitness plan is going pretty well. I can't really tell if I have lost any weight yet but I feel a lot more energized. Actually, surprisingly my waist is where I've slimmed down. Mom, I'm taking after you running in the morning and eating oatmeal with fruit for breakfast. We have been doing a lot of outside finding and street contacting. Bremerton is extremely hilly so it takes about 2 hours to walk 3 miles. Add a heavy wool coat and a backpack full of copies of the Book of Mormon and you got yourself a recipe for sweat-success.
Nasty food story. I ate roadkill for dinner yesterday. Well, Brother Venison-lover, the one that has never fed me anything but game meat, didn't fail to impress yesterday when he unveiled a venison/elk meatloaf. Ohhkkaaaayyyyy. Yikes. I took the tiniest piece possible. Had to save room on my plate for green beans, baked beans, and olives. Hm.
So remember the kinda bloody story I told last email about the dead lady the elders found? Well...the coroner's autopsy ruled it a homicide. Her throat was slit. They are tying the murder to a string of murders and stabbings that have been happening all around Bremerton. There have been 3 murders by most likely the same guy since I have been in the area. The police finally just released a sketch of what the guy looks like and have them posted all around the city. The craziest thing is is that I think we passed him walking on the street one day. It was in the morning and we were walking on a main road trying to street contact people. He didn't say hi back. The guy is a psycho killer, even has killed people in the middle of the day. Don't freak out or anything. I think the whole town is doing enough of that. They are saying that the sales of guns in Bremerton have doubled over the past couple weeks. I guess people are not sparing any costs to feel safe. I got a pepper spray keychain, my companion, and the Holy Ghost. Better than any automatic weapon.
I experienced my first real Mormon-hate/prejudice/discrimination. This irate black guy in a tank top and weight vest (that looked like a cross between a life jacket and something a fly fisherman would wear) came up to us while we were visiting his neighbor below him for a teaching appointment. Her kids were sick so she didn't want us to come inside so we talked to her at the door. He came down and started saying all these things to us which we ignored and went marching himself all the way to the manager's office. Brings a maintenance guy back with him and has him ask us to leave. The maintenance guy saw no problem with us being there and this about set the black guy on a rampage to start cracking skulls. We leave the situation after he storms off. About an hour later our investigator calls us back telling us that the manager called her in to basically interrogate her about what just happened. The guy made up this outlandish and obscene story about us harassing everyone in the complex and all this junk he pulled out of nowhere. The manager told our investigator that Mormons are no longer allowed on the premises. Diane, the investigator, who doesn't really owe us anything, defended us and the church and asked to see a posted law that would prohibit us from coming to visit her. The manager can totally get penalized by law for banning us, am I right? Well it put Diane in tears, she got really upset and frazzled about being put in the crossfire and now she is too scared to call us back because she doesn't want to get her or her family kicked out of the place. How wrong is that picture? The ironic thing was that right before all this happened, Diane asked us, "Why is it that only your church seems to have such active opposition?" I told her, "It's because it's the only true church. Why would Satan waste his time trying to overthrow a church that was only part or half true? He is not about to sit back and let more and more of God's children find the truth." Bold but had to be done.
Bremerton has been quite the trip. Transfers are coming up two weeks from today. A little bird told me that the sisters are getting doubled out of Manette. Who knows where we'll go...
Love,
Sis Baylon
No comments:
Post a Comment