How to make the distinction?

12 September 2016

Dear Dad,

Mountain air is so perfect, yeah? It’s pretty cool, you know, because even though it’s probably a very relative (just realized it might be a little weird that this card is pink. Too late now, enjoy!) thing, the feeling I get in the place we go huckleberry picking, or when we step out of the car on the ground at the cabin is the same feeling I get when we go drive Piiholo, or Olinda, or, most recently, Waipalani and Kalipo.

Lately my patience to accept being mistaken in one way or another for Jehovah’s Witness has been wearing thin. Or rather, my patience decided one day to walk off the cliff. Yes, I love all people, no reason to argue with me on this point, and this includes the Jehovah’s. They are very very very diligent. Partly because you have to do some number of proselyting in order to be considered an active member, but I’m sure they have their own internal driving factors, too. I’m convinced more and more, however, that they are considered fully active members of that faith because 94% of the time we see them or hear about them, it’s a companionship of sisters. Hence, the unavoidable and historical but frustrating misconception. People rarely ask, but merely assume. Even after introducing the church by its name or nickname it sometimes remains unclear until we say: different than the JW’s. Then comes, “Ohhh. Really?” Anyway this is an exhausting thing to me at times, and this week in particular, the problem seemed inescapable. I kept asking myself, “What can we do to make the distinction clear?” Then, one day we were looking for a place to tract a few minutes before our dinner appointment when I decided to take a turn up some place I’d been curious about a few times.

Houses in Haiku are often either far apart or gated, so we like to scout the street a bit usually prior to making a sure decision. This time it was a little awkward though to be undecided because there was a car behind us. I turned down one street hoping to free ourselves of that pressure but the car followed. After a few minutes I took another turn. The car followed. By now we were pretty deep into the boonies, so I was kind of weirded out and asked Sister Modolon if we still had phone service because . . . . you know. The car followed us to the end of the road! And finally turned into a driveway. It was kind of creepy in the moment, but I am determined now that this fancy black car on our tail was God’s very direct way of providing us opportunity for sweet sweet relief. We took the chance and knocked three doors. All over a mile apart. But guess what? All of them were kind and smiled at us and did not think we were Jehovah’s. In fact, I don’t think the JW’s have ever gone up that far, knock on wood. The people were heaven sent. The air reminded me of home, and although I left craving huckleberries, I was so grateful for the refreshing I received up there. You can bet we will be going back!

Let me know if you can think of any other ideas to help people quickly see that we are not JW’s. For now, I might just keep tracting up the jungle. I really am blessed!

My other lighthearted moment of the week, literally, stopping the car on the dirt drive to the Walter’s to pick wild strawberry guavas by the side of the road. Dreams do come true!

 

Dad, I love you so much! Keep remembering that and don’t forget to show love to Mom and Emma and the others around you. It can make a worlds worth of difference.

Hope you are not only surviving, but thriving as well,

Sister Auberooski

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