I'm doing good. I'm understanding more about myself. And even though
dendo is kind of frustrating and emotionally draining, I'm improving
myself. And even though it's still not seeming to effect the way I do
missionary work in a significant way, that is what I wanted to do when
I came on a mission. I wanted to be a better person. So far, I've been
extremely successful with that. I'm a lot different now. I feel a lot
better than I used to.
Anyway, I went hiking with the young men last week. It's the first
time I've been hiking in two years and it was quite fun. The view from
the top was gorgeous.
Something I've been especially aware of lately is the importance of
understanding one's limits. We are weak, imperfect beings, due to the
fall of mankind, and thus we do set limits. There is kind of an
unspoken culture opposed to that in the mission field. A feeling like
we just have to kill ourselves over our work, but what I have come to
understand is that the Lord doesn't enjoy just watching us suffer. In
Mosiah it says this:
"And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is
not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And
again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he
might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order."
We don't need to exert ourselves more than we have strength, but we do
need to do what we can. Even if that is only a little bit. I've had
many difficulties during my mission, many of which have restricted my
abilities and made proselyting very difficult and even painful. But I
know that the Lord is pleased with what I have done, because of where
my heart is. The Lord is aware of my every step. And is not
disappointed in me. God knows that what my dad told me many months ago
is true, that "a mission is a marathon, not a sprint." And so I need
to be careful, take care of myself.
I witnessed firsthand a very clear demonstration of this principle
last Saturday. We had woken up early to go play softball with some
members. I was in the outfield while we were doing batting practice.
Someone hit the ball, and it came rolling near me. I wasn't feeling so
good; I was pretty exhausted. But I ran after the ball as it rolled
quickly past me, pushed myself really hard, missed the ball and fell
over into the gravel, scraping up my knee and arm pretty badly.
Perhaps it's not a perfect metaphor, but it seemed to ring true when
Anyway, enough rambling. I'm still okay.