A Second of Honesty

19 October 2015

Haaaa dang I miss you guys so much!

Em is beautiful. You are beautiful. Molly is beautiful. The pumpkins are beautiful (an assumption). Ivie is beautiful. Dad is beautiful (yes). Idaho is beautiful.  Esther and the kids are beautiful (also, the babe is big). And thanks, Chris, for reading my stuffs all the time!

I love Hawai’i a lot, and it is beautiful, too. But just let me say– It is no Idaho. Be surprised or don’t be surprised, I think ima live right inbetween you, Mum and Dad, and the Humphreys (Goodliffes. Or….. Yaah. Actually, Denise should kick them out and take the place over). Please, if you could, plant my trees now so by the time I get back from my mission and do all the other stuff I need to do I can build my house there and already have perfect shade. Thanks.

Anyway, here’s the tricky thing. I’ve been bomb at writing in my journal lately. And please ignore how backwards this is, but for some reason it makes it about 20 times more difficult for me to remember what I have and haven’t already told you. My apologies are sincere. First things first though, I need to stop saying though so much. But really what I was going to say is thanks for telling me everything about life back home. It’s the best.

A second of honesty now, there’s a quote from Ezra Taft Benson in Preach My Gospel that really really bugs me. It says:

“I have often said that one of the greatest secrets of missionary work is work! If a missionary works, he will get the Spirit; if he gets the Spirit, he will teach by the Spirit; and if he teaches by the Spirit, he will touch the hearts of the people and he will be happy. Work, work, work–there is no satisfactory substitute, especially in missionary work.  There will be no homesickness, no worrying about families, for [he will have] all [his] time talents and interest . . . . centered on the work of the ministry. Work, work, work–there is no satisfactory substitute, especially in missionary work.”

. . . . It just doesn’t really work for me. The reason I feel homesick isn’t because I don’t want to be out here. It’s because I have the best home ever. Which actually has potential to make me work even harder, right? If that seems too sketch, please do omit it! I dunno. Maybe I’ll figure it out eventually, but as far as I can see, I don’t imagine that there will ever be a time when I’m not going to miss home. I think that’s a good thing. You all are too perfect, that’s why.

Moving on. Sister Smith threw a bag of brownies at my face the other day. That was pretty funny. And I had to say zone prayer again on Saturday. I love saying the prayer, but I had power so I told them I’d only do it if the Zone Leaders brought me hot chocolate when they came by to unlock the Family History Center for us. Of course they went all sarcastic (anti-feminist kind) saying that it was supposed to be me making them the hot chocolate (“sandwich,” if you catch my drift). Then five minutes later they finally quieted down enough to let me pray and then an hour later they brought us hot chocolate and sausage mcmuffins. Unfortunately we didn’t get to be in the Family History Center because there was only a nonmember guy there and white handbook rules, so we just went to the mothers’ lounge and did our studies with A/C and comfy chairs. It was a good day.

Plus we taught David some awesome lesson about the Gospel of Jesus Christ and I was all, “If you’re not feeling something right now, then I don’t know what you are.” And he came to the Young Single Adult Halloween party. As did Davina and Shericee. And it was so lovely. And too much fun. I didn’t dance though, because, ya know. I was afraid I wouldn’t feel like a missionary if I did. There was a pumpkin carving contest and the challenge was to make a funny pumpkin. Betchu can’t guess what my group’s looked like?! Eh, yeah. You probs can guess perfectly.

Good news: Car comes back the end of this week! Maybe. I am so excited. I know I wanted to be in a walking area and all, but… 1.  Our area covers two zones, and 2.  Pdays are rough. Also, we got a new ward mission leader…… Brother Fuimaono! We’ll see how this all goes. Transfers are coming up, and we’ve both been here for three months now. Ugggggh.

So last Monday I climbed a tree in the church parking lot. Or um, tried. I got abrasions on my arms. Was it worth it? Probably debatable. But ima say yes.

We also had zone conference this week. It was perfect. I’ve been struggling a lot with feeling like obedience has, like, no reward. Which I know isn’t true, but when you look around, it definitely seems like it. In fact, Monday I was talking to one of the Sisters about it and she said to me, “That’s why I gave up.” But it’s okay, because President (Warner) just knows exactly what’s in my brain. Or I guess, God does? And everything that was said was completely on point. It happens every time. Like interviews last transfer? Whoa. Not even going to go there.

We had exchanges. I went to Ewa with Sister Moala. Sups fun. We were killing it. We went to see the Tongan lady we referred to them last transfer, Makalesi, because I’ve been pestering them so much ever since finding out Sister Moala was Tongan. I’ll spare you the details, but know, miracles will be happening. Sister Moala is incredible. Love that girl! So sad she’s done so soon….

Cool, well, I’ve got loads more to say, but time is evil, and also I want to go party with my people. Ahem. My Hawaiian people (AKA missionaries…). You know, since you’re my original people 🙂 .

Don’t fret. It’s all in my journal. So many funnies. So many sads. So many…. yeah.  Just so many.

Pictures next week, okay?

Alofa Atu, Sister Aubs

Editor’s note

Since no pictures were sent this week, the featured image is the photo I’m fairly sure she sent in with her mission application. (Always pushing limits.) It will have to suffice for the week.  Ima=I’m going to. Sups=super. Also, bomb.  Before 1997 it meant failure; now it can mean excellent or the best. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit I am looking for clarification in the Urban Dictionary.  Only because I know missionaries have limited computer time, and I never know if I’m supposed to be correcting typos, translating Hawaiian or Samoan, or embracing slang. No, I can’t embrace slang. It’s killing me, but I will attempt to maintain the integrity of her words.  Remember all comments are sent to her, and she appreciates them very much.


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