Tis' the hunting season

When it comes to hunting, I've never really been around it. I mean my Uncles hunt, some of my friends hunt, and my Grandpa hunts, but I've never been in the scene. When hunting season comes around to accompany the Christmas season here in the Hancock area, every breath breathed and word shared is pretty much either deer or cheer, if you know what i'm saying. No one was home for the first four days of the week. The wooded roads were lined with scattered empty trucks, gunshots fired at least every 30 minutes near us, but not very few souls were contacted in those days. I've never experienced a culture so entwined with hunting before.

Along with the absence of humans, an absence of pretty much all other living creatures besides the mooing cows and croaking ravens created an eerie silence for Elder Tausaga and i to proselyte in. Mist and fog engulfed us no matter if we were in the valleys or mountains, like a dream was wrapping us around. Elder Tausaga is obsessed with fog, though. He gets out and runs around and smiles the biggest smile. We probably have the most character of any companionship I've met so far xD

Half way through the week Iwe were feeling exhausted and out of ideas to find people. With almsot all members and non-members out in the forests, we were at a teaching stand still. Humbled and a little bit lost on top of a mountain, Elder Tausaga and i knelt down and said a prayer to lead us to someone who needs help, and to guide us for improvements. Immediately we had the impression to go back down the mountain sides to the rail road the passes through the area. Down we traversed until we ran into the railroad that ran perpendicular to the Potomac river, a clouded fog still hanging around us.  Walking by the banks we discovered a tarp hung over in a make-shift shelter. Not quite sure what to expect, I asked, "Anyone home?" 

An old man wearing a bicycle helmet and torn trench coat emerged from the shelter with tears in his eyes and a toothless smile. It was very clear that this man was a homeless alcoholic, but we made out from his slurred language that he was wanting to die when suddenly he heard my voice. He went on the give us both hugs with tears falling down. We tried to communicate with him for his name or how we could help him out, but after hugging us he bent down beside the shelter, picked up an old bicycle, and walked it along the train tracks into the fog.

I have no idea who that man was or what became of him, but what I do know is the warmth that filled my heart with the tears in our eyes and the life giving hug clasped. So far this Christmas season we have discovered that Christ-like love cannot be summarized in statistics or seen from afar. The real gift of charity is felt in the moment given. That experience is shown through the Savior's love as a constant outreach to us if we only open our arms to receive it. Oh man is the season meant for love.

xoxo

Elder Burgess

Adventures of Burgess

Now that you're a little bit disgusted, I'll carry on with the week ;) Thanksgiving is how all holidays are on the mission: too short, a little boring, out of place, and very filling. A multi millionaire in the ward had us over for dinner in his massive wooden lodge overlooking the rolling West Virginian mountains. He was one of the most renowned wood smiths in the world, crafting desks for the white house and many other world leaders. Needless to say, his dinner table was worthy for a viking feast, long enough for twenty chairs and wide enough for any Thanksgiving food imaginable. Still, Thanksgiving just ins't the same without lifelong friends and family. Elder Tausaga's first Thanksgiving meal will be hard to beat, though. He really enjoyed the forearm sized turkey legs xD

There are very few restaurants in Hancock, but the one that has business constantly throughout the day is a tiny old Subway. Even though the lettuce is generally old and strong and the tomatoes are goop, people still stream in. As some of those people, Elder Tausaga and I walked out ready to eat some gooey meatballs when I heard a wavering old man's voice ask,"What's your opinion on Corihor?" I turned around to see Albert Einsteins's 21st century twin sitting in the back corner, the table piled with Sudoku and crossword puzzles. I've been out long enough to know when an old man asks a question like that with a long white beard and scattered grey bird's nests of hair that it was going to be a long, interesting conversation. I replied, "Well, I always thought he had an unfortunate ending. I wish people would have treated him a bit kinder in the end." 

He tucked in his lips in thought with furrowed brows and told me I'm the first Mormon he's encountered that has even known who Corihor was. Elder Tausaga and I sat down with Mr. Lener for an hour philosophical lesson ranging from Jewish translations to our minimal place in the universe to how to glimpse eternity in the midst of time. This is the sort of thing Elder Tausaga hates, so he didn't say a word the whole time, just folded his arms and pursed a frown. By the end I had cleared up his misconceptions regarding the purposes of past polygamy in Christianity as a whole and the purpose of Temple marriage from a spiritual standpoint. At the end of the hour he revealed himself as a full blooded Jewish Elder who speaks near fluent Hebrew, can quote most Shakespearean plays from memory (Macbeth bid us farewell from Subway), and was a nuclear physicist in the 60's to 80's in California before becoming a dentist in Hancock. I'm not sure I've met a more intellectual man than Mr. Lener. Before leaving he dubbed us worthy of the title of Rabbi, the first Mormons he has had the pleasure of keeping a conversation with. 

It goes to show you never know what people you'll bump into in the strangest of circumstances. Investing a bit of time to open conversations with strangers over the past 13 months has opened my eyes and heart to thousands of people from all walks of life and from all corners of the world I would have simply walked by in ignorance. This world is full of lives and minds varying from downtrodden souls to Sudoku Physicist Jewish Elders. Sharing thoughts and ideas stems pretty much all progressive religious experiences. Taking the thought to get out there and sit down with a smile and share some meatballs can result in an uplifted warmth to take the rest of the cold night. I doubt I'll ever talk to or meet Old Man Lener again, but that doesn't take away from the experience. When Christ directed Peter to feed his sheep, I guarantee mopey meatballs wouldn't hold him back ;)

Despite all religious backgrounds, biases, or political standpoints, there's nothing that can rival the feeling of an unconditional smile and chuckle on the beauty of this crazy world we're blessed to live in. Stay warm <3

xoxo

Elder Burgess

December 14, 2015

Milking cow utters on a 220 dairy cow farm in a white shirt and suit pants isn't the cleanest experience in my life so far. Muddy middle of nowhere farms have caught our attention over the week for service opportunities and, what would ya know, they needed us right in the moment, not allowing us to go home and change into work clothes. At least I didn't get pooped on like Elder Tausaga xD normally the cows' tails lift to warn before the drop, but this one had a cut tail. Service is service and Elder Tausaga got a raccoon hide out of it to use as a scarf, so all is well that ends well I suppose.

It breaks my heart to see Elder Tausaga get transferred this upcoming Wednesday. We have become an ultimate team in teaching, planning, and a wicked good duo volleyball team. He's departing to upper-city Baltimore (the nice part) to follow up train while I will be training for the third time here in Hancock! If this trainee is anything like my last two we will have a blast :) 

I got the opportunity to go on exchanges into Hagerstown, MD this weekend. Other than Baltimore (Gotham City incarnate), Hagerstown has got to be the most rotten place I have ever stepped foot in. Every thing was grey. Grey buildings, grey cars, grey faces, grey concerns, a giant grey rat,  grey feelings, grey weather, grey every thing. Despite feeling like a tempest tossed piece of garbage in a sewer, we managed to have a few extraordinary lessons. One of them was in our dinner appointment with a family called the Sprinkles or something. An old spotted teeth inactive couple, the Sprinkles have had their 26 year old son commit suicide and their house burn down in the past couple months. We wouldn't have found this out had we not followed a prompting to ask what was on their minds. Old Sister Sprinkle opened up with waterfalls of tears burst out of nowhere, and the lesson began.

A brilliant thing about living in the moment as you love someone is the God-given ability to speak without knowing what you're saying. It's something that has to be felt, not observed. What needed to be said was said, and who needed to be comforted was comforted. I honestly can't bring a single thing to mind of what I said. No scripture, no experience; I have no clue. It was after the trial of putting my faith in the Lord to flow through me as an instrument that I saw the smile blossom across her face and a simple "thank you" that lit up a spectrum of color in such a grey environment.

Light an example of brilliant color this week with a heart-felt smile and a sincere conversation to a grey trodden soul. Splash a warm bubble bath on a sewer rat and soon they'll take it easy in a perfume of another world...whatever that means. Just be nice. :)

xoxo

Elder Burgess

December 21, 2015

I really doubt this letter will be long, since I was sick for over half of the week. It was pretty darn unlucky timing, actually. The day I picked up my trainee Elder Flandro from transfer meeting I came down with a wicked fever and cold shakes like I've never had before, which must have been a startling first sight for him. It must have been even worse teaming up with the other two Hancock Elders in taking me to the Emergency Room. I was hopelessly dehydrated, but when I left six hours letter I all fixed up. The gist that they discovered was a viral infection. No appendicitis, no kidney problems, nothing else from the CAT scans or X-rays. I'll take it as a good sign that I managed a cherry pie yesterday :)

Christmas is just around the corner, something that is a little hard to digest when you are away from home for over a year and in the middle of nowhere. The light of Jesus' birth is the one constant, and honestly the most important part, of Christmas that can be both seen and felt thousands of miles away from home. His warmth of humble birth spanning to His glorious life still being lived now will always put a smile on my face and love in my heart. Spreading His arm embracing warmth is my calling as a missionary every day. Have a very merry Christmas!

xoxo

Elder Burgess

December 28, 2015 Letter

Like all holidays on the mission, Christmas came and went like any other day of the mission. We were with the other two Hancock Elders every day of this past week going from the mission Christmas party to ward Christmas parties to family dinners. It feels nice having a close-nit group of four Elders in such a spread out area. Even right now we're all emailing together. Elder Carling could definitely use a shower though.

The missionary guidebook, frequently called The White Handbook, says that holidays are some of the best days to proselyte because most families are home. I would like to talk to the original author of that section and rewrite that part. BIG. MISTAKE. Hancock ordinarily is a decently kind town, relative to the amount of old timers lurking about, but knocking the spotted door up in the hills on Christmas Eve created the most dreary and angry day of proselyting I've had since the craziness of Kent Island. Luckily the day was cut short at 4:00 for a MASSIVE Christmas Eve dinner with the best crab dip I think I will ever eat in my life.

The ironic part of Christmas and New Years that has been on my mind is the celebration of the new birth of the Savior, matched with the celebration of a new year. Having a new year to not only reflect on where we've been and where we're going, but also on who we are in the moment is prime to becoming a more loving, Christ-like person in our lives. I've been thinking about this past year of my life as a missionary, the only full year I'll have as a missionary that is sometimes called "the dark year" xD, and it's a little startling seeing the difference in how I react to scenarios and thoughts.

I have gained twenty pounds, grown an inch, and have hair on my chest, but other than that I am pretty much the same physically. What's changed from night to day is who I am spiritually. Conversion is an on-going process, but I am at the point where the words of Christ and the experiences of faith that have followed me every day for the past 15 months have distilled a dew of divine connection I never could have imagined being there. Losing myself in the service of God and in the service of literally three different states' worth of people has and will continue to mold me to be the type of person I'm absolutely content with being.

President Eyring quoted this poem that is perfect for the new year:

"I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
The dye has been cast.
I have stepped over the line.
The decision has been made.
I am a disciple of Jesus Christ.
I won't look back, let up, slow down, or be still.
My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure.
I'm finished and done with low living, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tainted visions, worldly talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals.
I no longer need pre-eminence, positions, promotions, plaudits or popularity.
I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk with patience, am uplifted by prayer, and labor with power.
My face is set, my gait is fast, and my goal is Heaven.
My road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my guide is reliable, my mission is clear!
I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, divided or delayed.
I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
I won't give up, shut up, or let up, until I have stayed up stored up, and paid up of the cause of Christ.
I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till I know, and work till He stops me.
And when He returns for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me.
My banner will be clear"

I love you all and am looking forward to all the adventures 2016 has in store :)

xoxo

Elder Burgess

November 23, 2015 Guess who's back

I have a dozen friends serving missions in Spanish speaking areas. Whether it be Spain, Peru, mexico, Argentina, Chile, or Spanish speaking in California, Arizona, or Colorado, each and every one of them has told stories about how much food you are fed. Never before have i given them respect about too much food until my first exchange into a Spanish speaking area in my District. This is the first transfer that Spanish Elders have been with me and woowee would I gain weight if I were there. For dinner the Spanish Branch President's wife whipped out a massive self heated skillet. Elder Skarda didn't tell me what we would eat nor how much we would eat, so I had loaded up with a foot long meatball marinara sub two hours earlier. Suddenly this Sister began tossing papusa (idk how to spell that) after papusa onto this skillet in a frenzy, both hands wielding metal spatulas flying around her. After two minutes or so on the skillet, she swiftly slid each one onto my plate one by one like a conveyor belt while I did my best to scarf them down. Apparently the faster you eat in a Spanish home the more they think you want, leaving me in destined downward spiral of indigestion. In the end I ate 11 papusas. Elder Skarda ate 4.

Immediately after dinner we played an intense round robin tournament of indoor soccer with twenty crazy good Hispanic players who wouldn't speak a lick of English. I ended up with indigestion to the moon and saying aqui and lo siento constantly. Needless to say, I have enormous respect for Spanish Elders now. :)

The wooded farmlands and hills of Pennsylvania offer no housing developments, neighborhoods, or streets to tract out. The occasional farmstead has four or so homes of one family, but normally one answer stays consistent throughout the family. This has led Elder Tausaga and I to be much more creative in our finding efforts than ever before. Working with other active members to help them interact with their friends, to help them in their own difficulties and hardships, is a huge focus for us. Luckily the members have us over every night for a meal and instruction to help them do missionary work in their own lives. This area is cold, windy, and wild, but the warmth and love of the ward family here makes up for it tenfold. (did I just say tenfold?) Our investigator Zoe had been working towards baptism on December 5 before I came into the area. Since I have been here we've only taught her one lesson,and we haven't had contact with her at church or in person for the past two weeks. Elder Tausaga doesn't quite understand the idea that if someone doesn't reply to your text that day you don't text repeatedly every day. :).

Despite the hardships of working here, God still leads us to those in need. Friday night we were on an old country road in the middle of nowhere, walking to the scattered trailer homes up on their own hills. 'Get losts' and 'Get outs' followed us one by one until it was ten minutes before our dinner appointment. In the freezing pitch dark woods, down-trodden and weary, we were more than ready to take off. However, as we began to turn to the car, I spotted a flickering light in a window just beyond us on the steepest hill. Something inside me beckoned to just knock this one more home in our last ten minutes. Upward we climbed to the old rundown trailer home, greeted by three ferocious yapping chihuahuas and an old rusty axe leaning on the door. Still, we knocked. The door creaked open to reveal a blanket wrapped 30 yr old, normal looking lady with a distraught but gentle look on her face. She was a newborn mother in a trailer that had no heat besides a few lanterns and her tiny baby had two cleft feet and struggled to breathe. Her fiance worked as many hours as he could at the sand mine an hour away, trying his hardest to supply for this little family in need. As we began to discuss the hope of Christ and His teachings that bless families forever, a smile lit up across her face i could tell hadn't been there for far too long. The cold disappeared, our hearts were renewed, and our souls were at ease. We go back tomorrow with our ward mission leader to teach the whole family the Restoration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 

The wonder of difficulties in the broad spectrum of our lives is the inevitability that someone else is walking through the very same challenges with you. Not only is Jesus Christ eternally reaching out his hand to stride beside you, but individuals live in their own worlds of pain, looking for someone to help comfort them just the same. Thanksgiving gives a priceless opportunity to look back on the beauty and glory of living alongside our family, friends, and fellow human beings in a world who's unparalleled glory can be felt in a simple hug. I am grateful for my life, for my liberty, for my family, for my friends. I am grateful for my God, His love, and His strength. I am grateful for the bone chilling nights, the shotguns pulled, the consistent no's and leg numbing hills. For every dead end leads to a turn around. The one smile that melts a heart is worth gratitude of the entire soul.

Happy Thanksgiving ;)

xoxo

Elder Burgess

November 16, 2015

The cold bit to the bone last Saturday evening as Elder Tausaga and I huddled from home to home knocking a small farm neighborhood. Wind is the major killer out here, especially when in the narrow valleys, so we were looking for anybody to just let us in for some shelter. Lately here in the Hancock area we have discovered people generally don't like outsiders, and outsiders that go door to door trying to push into your life and discuss religion are liked even less. Our desperation for warmth led us to the final house in the small cluster of the valley, a house faintly lit by a small dirt road street light down the way. On the porch we made out an old woman who stood staring at us. I guess I forgot the story of Hansel and Grettle because we ran on up to her porch and asked if she would hear our message of Christ's full teachings.

For the record, she told us a man was inside, so we went in to the old colonial home. Immediately we were hit with a wall of stench unrivaled by any other putrid thing I've smelled. Within just the front room I spotted at least thirty full grown cats lounging around in absolute filth, meowing up a catastrophe (get it) of racket that, paired with the atrocious smell that I could taste, nearly sent me packing to the floor. Elder Tausaga is even worse with smells than I am but when he doesn't like something he doesn't say a word. The only way you can tell when he's upset is by the shriveled expression that knots his face. Needless to say, this was one of the worst places I've ever been in. We shortly found out this woman was horribly deranged and spoke frantically and didn't comprehend anything we said, she totally lied about the man inside just to let us in (unless he was dead), and that we needed to leave asap. Possibly the 50+ cats she had were past travelers caught in her evil spell.

Aside from that, we had a lively week. I pet a hedgehog, a knight-worthy horse larger than any animal I've stood next to, a bunch of newborn bunnies, four near rabid hairless dogs, and a corn snake. If you've ever read the book, "All Creatures Great and Small", that is pretty much what life out here is like. Old fifth generation farmers and young hick hunters take up the majority of our company, although every now and then you'll meet someone who's not related to the five massive family blood lines in the area. Hendershots, Mellotts, Schrievers, Goldens, and Hartmans own this place, all of which have the oldest living members in leadership positions in the Church here. I've never lived in a place like this before.

A representative of Missionary Headquarters in Salt Lake City visited our mission leadership meeting last Thursday. He managed to set the 30 of us in flame of debate over what rules should change, our focuses, etc, but really had in mind what was going to happen before it even began. Coming out of that meeting, almost all of the logistical aspects of our missionary work have changed dramatically. Many of the missionaries present were upset, confused, or contentious when they left because of the changes. For me, logistical differences in how you do missionary work fade in importance to why you do missionary work. True conversion to the Gospel of Jesus Christ means being infused with the why of life. Why am I here? Why do I care? Why do I love? Why does God love me? The answers to these soul searching questions can only be found through living the questions, searching with our eyes and hearts wide open to receive the bounty this beautiful Earth has in store. Heavenly Father has prepared the way. Jesus Christ has led the way. It's up to us to follow the way. The why is the way ;)

At the end of the day, teaming back up with cheerful Elder Tausaga in this outland of forests brings the smile on my face to carry on. I wouldn't like to be anyone or anywhere else than who and where I am now. :)

xoxo

Elder Burgess

November 9, 2015

oh and my new address is:

216 1/2 Jackson Street

Apt 2

Hancock, MD

21750

idk why it's 216 and a half, but it is what it is

On Mon, Nov 9, 2015 at 2:06 PM, Truman Burgess <truman.burgess@myldsmail.net> wrote:

There's nothing quite like dumping 30 year old cannery foods one by one into massive buckets in 40 degree, 20 mph winds, 50% humidity weather with a companion who speaks only English he learned in downtown Baltimore and the scriptures. The "foods" were either shriveled into fungus puffing pods, dissolved into metallic tar, or just plain white and black mold. A member in the Hancock, Maryland ward needed our help to open the jars, so we ended up doing the whole shabang. Despite how I've begun to make this place sound, it truly is an amazing part of the country.

My area stretches from mid West Virginia on upwards through the tiny sliver of Maryland (that's where our apartment is) and spreads on out into Pennsylvania, specifically a little past the town of Needmore. Funky names out here. Massive waves of mountainous hills roll the landscape, forested with thousands on thousands of deciduous trees, all of which have lost their leaves by now. Clouds barely edge over the peaking hills and get trapped into the narrow valleys below. Our apartment is situated on the top of a smaller hill, giving us an awe inspiring view I have yet to take a worthy picture of. One day :)

Most of the ward members live in Pennsylvania, so that's where we spend most of our time. Wilderness is definitely the word to describe the land out here, but also the describe the people too. This area has very few jobs other than farming, lumber, and woodworking, leaving many of the people oldddddd timers. Long beards and pot bellies are pretty much a given, as well as tons and tons of guns. Hunting is the number one past time here and the people care very little for the local laws and customs. It's perfectly normal to see men lurching around huge rifles and shotguns down the street to the diner, completely covered in blood from their feet to chest, a huge elk thrown in the back of their 1960/70's pick up trucks.

My companion is unlike anyone I have ever met. His name is Elder Tausaga, a full blooded Samoan who knew little to no English before entering the MTC for only twelve days. He's been out in the mission for eight months or so, but that's apparently not nearly enough time to learn English. xD Back on his home island his life consisted of professional volleyball for his job, his hobbies being hunting giant dog-sized bats in the jungle mountains, catching and eating wriggling fish with his hands in the ocean, and beating strangers up for sport. The only food he buys is rice and canned salmon for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Despite how his past sounds, Elder Tausaga is one of the most charitable, sincere, and heart-warming people I think I'll ever meet. He knows how to do missionary work despite the language difficulties and greets everyone with a true smile. Only for humans, though.

Elder Tausaga has a strange hatred for all living animals besides kittens, humans, horses, and spiders. I explain to him wild creatures form Africa like Giraffes, Rhinos, and show him squirrels and Hawks. No matter what it is, his eyes focus and he says, "I will keewl it." We were driving through the windy roads of West Virginia when in the middle of the road sat a buzzard, or vulture, a great big carrion bird. I pulled over and explained to him what it was, but before I could stop him he was outside the car, picking up a hefty rock over his head to throw at the bird. I quickly held him in place and put the stone down, but he kept saying, "I will keewl it and I will eat it." 

So that's one thing to work on. He's teaching me how to be 100% heartfelt in teaching and I'm teaching him how to love animals and not eat wild vultures. Give and take, I suppose :)

The best part about this area is the feeling of home whenever I enter a member's house. To them I become a part of their family, not even a guest but a son or brother. Out here people put away biases or grudges to welcome in a fellow wanderer in this strange, cold land. And holy cow do they have good senses of humor. I can go full blast hilarity level and they bounce right back. The warmth of unconditional love is far worth the cold walk home.

Keep going strong and don't eat vultures.

xoxo

Elder Burgess

 If it weren't for the White Handbook these would have been oursAs goofy as ever

Elder Tausaga in his leather coat only he could pull off as a missionary

September 14, 2015 Yeah Orioles Birthday

When summer humidity seeps into your air conditioner with its evil sorcery and breaks it completely, you take every chance you can get to finish weekly planning and do service out in a thunderstorm. Elder Dustin and I were called over to a member's house on the other side of Centreville to "get rid of some weeds". Well, turns out those weeds were gigantic, ancient tree stumps spread out throughout the back yard. The only tools the members left us while on their vacation were a sledge hammer and two shovels. 

Dumping rain and flashes of lightning lit our extremely manly excavation. The way we saw it, the rain was softening the ground into mud which is a lot easier to shovel. We were totally wrong, but that didn't stop us. After about an hour we had dug deep enough to see a major root connecting the three main stumps, which we dug around to reveal the mass network of veined roots. All with only two shovels. Finally we focused our efforts combined to the central stump, isolating it from the walls of mud on every side. I got the sledge hammer and went to TOWN on the roots keeping it in. Although I almost pulled my shoulder, I bludgeoned that thing to oblivion, getting it just detached enough for our combined effort to lift it out.

High-fiving and roaring victory soaked and muddy to the bone, we turned around to walk back and realized we had decimated their once grass covered lawn. Luckily the members love us and at least pretended to be grateful and feed us, which is always a good sign. Some things are better left dormant that awakened I suppose. :)

Rainstorms seemed to follow us throughout the week. On one occasion Elder Dustin and I were strolling the streets of centreville after all plans fell through around 8:30 when lightning cracked and rain descended on us, totally unprepared. We ran into the Dunkin Donuts across the road just before they closed. A girl was working there, probably early 20's, who looked like she had been through a lot of hard stuff growing up. She asked why we were dressed up like this in a town like Centreville at 8:30 in a thunderstorm. A fine question. That led perfectly into discussing what we do as missionaries, why we're out here; the whole shabang. Upon telling her that we help people overcome addictions, she quickly interrupted and asked, "What kind of addictions?" I told her that through Christ we help people get off drugs like heroin--BOOM she interrupted again, "I'm addicted to heroin". We had only known this lady for 3 minutes and here she was opening up to us. turns out she lived and grew up in western Baltimore, the sketchiest part of Baltimore, had been sent off in the middle of the night to an addiction recovery center comparable to "One Flew Over the Coo Coo's Nest", and now had no family left. We let her know there's hope for her, scheduled an appointment with the Sister missionaries and her, and left her with a prayer surrounded by thunderous rain in a closing Dunkin Donuts at 8:50 p.m. 

If that's not a miracle sent from God, I don't know what is.

 The Apostle Quentin L. Cook visited our mission and stake this weekend accompanied by his musical wife (forgot her name :/) and Elder Jack Gerard of the Seventy. Now, I'm notorious for doubting other people, but while shaking hands and looking eye to eye with an Apostle called for and of the Lord Jesus Christ there is a divine authority you can feel. He taught our mission specifically how important member missionary work is and how we must be our first convert before helping others' conversions (Alma 60:23). Witnesses from God through the Holy Ghost are of the nature that  they are honestly impossible to describe. It is their purpose to manifest truth to us individually on our own paths in our own lives. Thank God for living in the circumstances you are now and ask for strength to receive the future and I promise the weight on your shoulders will be lifted anytime, anywhere. 

xoxo

Elder Burgess

September 8, 2015

Apparently some people (*cough cough* Jacob Vance *cough cough* ) misunderstood that our entire mission went to the orioles Mormon Night baseball game and it was mere coincidence that it was the day before my birthday and that I live 3 hours from Baltimore on light rail, so that's why  i got home so late. Trust me when I say I'm the cream of the crop in obedience ;))

Maybe it's a hidden gift or a reoccurring call, but Elder Dustin and I have been getting call after call to take care of the elderly all throughout our area. One in particular, her name is Cynthia, was a cryptic, nearly impossible to understand voice message that led us on a wild goose chase to help her. After driving a solid hour and a half to the other side of our area, we finally discovered the old nursing home rumored to be Cynthia's home. If you've ever seen horror movies regarding nursing homes over looking lakes in the middle of nowhere, you know what I'm talking about. Cautiously we walk in the scratched grey doors to the front counter where an extremely elderly secretary sat. Not sure f she was a patient I asked if we could see a woman named Cynthia. Immediately her suspicious eyes lit up in astonishment and told us what room Cynthia was in, not even asking for a last name.

Cynthia sat in a gray room in her old wheelchair attached to twin oxygen tanks. She looked 70 to 80 years old but apparently was 55. Upon turning around from the window and seeing us her normally perma frowned face changed to complete, heart-grabbing relief, insomuch that she began to weep into tears. I have never met someone who literally looked outside all the day long waiting for us to possibly show up to help her. It was immediately obvious she was in there for mental health disabilities as well as physical disabilities when she screamed at the top of her lungs at the cleaner workers to get out, but to each their own. We began talking with her and gave her a pure blessing in her trials and difficulties. The aspect of blessings that testifies to me of their divinity is how I take absolutely no thought what to say beforehand, stream line upon line of revelation, then as soon as i'm done I can't remember what I blessed. It's like asking a guitar what it's played before. It doesn't know. All that matters is that it's tuned and ready to play again. Cynthia asked if we could read some scriptures to her afterwards, where she seemed to rest for the first time in months as we took turns reading the Book of Mormon to her. Every Friday at1:30 (it's scheduled with the office staff) we will be seeing Cynthia.

Elder Dustin walked out of there wide-eyed as if he had seen it all. It's whenever I ask myself that same thing that something new like this spins into my court. Plateau isn't in spiritual vocabulary.

A couple other instances were miracles, like just happening to knock on a member's door when he choked on a piece of steak and Heimlich'd him perfectly on time, and schooling hoodlums in Basketball, one of which was the son of the Father of the Catholic church in town who talked with us afterwards, thanking me for humbling (also known as stuffing) his son. We are now on excellent terms with the head ministers of the Methodist, Catholic, and 7th Day Adventist churches in town.

Speaking of 7th Day Adventists, out investigator Shane is the source of immense study. I doubt college will hold me down now after going as in-depth as this. What I've learned the hard way is that each person is an absolute individual with absolutely different thought processes, experiences, and biases. No one lesson should be taught the same. Ever. The principle of teaching people, not lessons is identical to how the Lord teaches us. He speaks in our language, to our personal understandings. Time to teach to learn :)

xoxo

Elder Burgess

August 31, 2015 - Yeah Orioles Birthday

Sports are an often overlooked ministering opportunity. Elder Dustin and I went from throwing down basketball with some hoodlums to playing soccer with a bowling ball to an insane match of volleyball, all with strangers. Coasting down the road with our car parked back at the apartment with 1397.3 miles out of 1400 for the month, we were pretty darn exhausted. The summer humidity seems to never end and is at the point where I honestly think it was easier to withstand the lasting winter death freeze than this. Still we went through Centreville on foot, looking for people we have never met before, a hard task for us in our crazy little home town. After walking for about 30 minutes on an off road we discovered a housing development we had never been in before. Time to tract.

Around the first bend of road a massive yard-sale came into view. This was at about 7:30 p.m., so we thought it was a strange strategy setting up so late. Naturally we investigate. Cars blanketed the outskirts of the street around this home, which was strange since absolutely no one was outside the front. An older woman saw us standing outside looking around and said, "Go on out back. You young folk belong back there." With an agreed shrug we walked through the open garage and out to the backyard. I kid you not, a full fledged stereotypical college aged party was underway in front of us. In the massive backyard stood a full grass volleyball court, a huge grill, and at least 30 people eating BBQ and drinking a lot of beer. All of them looked about my age or a little older, but we immediately stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone stopped what they were doing or saying and just stared at us. Then a red neck 45 year old looking guy from the porch yelled, "It's the Jesus boys!" and everyone cheered. The 45 year old was named Timmy, a very racist yet happy guy who apparently met with missionaries last summer and ten years ago before going into prison. Oh man did he cook some mean burgers. Those were incredible. We met his nephew Cody and a few other people who asked us why we dress up the way we do and why we don't drink. Everyone took it well then they stood around as if they didn't know what to do.

Elder Dustin and I looked at each other, then looked out and challenged them all to a volleyball tournament. Totally inspired. We may not look it, but Elder Dustin and I are killer good volleyball players. Maybe it had something to do with our opponents all were drunk to some degree....nahhhhh ;) We ended up schooling them all, even the huge weight lifter bro-tank guys, and gained some serious street rep and "OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH"s, all while wearing our white shirts and ties. The majority of these people I guarantee would have normally slammed their doors in our faces if we had tracted into them, or would have simply turned away. Now (as long as they remember that night) they will have a profound friendship with any missionaries they see, specifically with Elder Dustin and I. 

True gospel truths cannot enter a heart if it is not laid with a foundation of friendship. It's that simple. No one will care until they know you care about them, and there's no way you can care about them if you don't build a friendship with them. Why else would the Savior Himself teach His disciples the fullness of His gospel if they weren't His friends? He cares for each of us, knocking on the doors of our hearts like the perfect aroma of apple pie to a famished missionary. All we have to do is our part in building a relationship with Him, going out of our way to love those that may normally hate us, caring for those who throw no-soliciting signs at you as you walk neighborhoods, and smiling a real, true smile to those who call the cops on you though all you are trying to do is to love. 

It's the name of the game, the first and the last, the complete message of Jesus Christ. Love God with all of your might, mind, and strength. Love your neighbor as yourself. The higher law is far more taxing than the lower, but believe me when I say it's worth it. :) 

Keep baking apple pies. Pumpkin too.

xoxo

Elder Burgess

Aug 24, 2015

Wow this large lady sitting at the computer adjacent to me is going to town picking her nose and groaning. i wonder what's happened to the keyboard I'm typing on right now. I'd rather not think about that.

What better birthday present than an Orioles game in Baltimore the night before!Man that was awesome. It was a three hour journey in Friday traffic from our town in Centreville to the light rail in Glen Burnie to downtown B'more. Elder Dustin and I teamed up with some other missionaries to form an ultimate squad among the thousands of traveling fans. We stuck out like a sore thumb in our typical missionary white shirts and ties, but it was cool not being alone. Once we got into the annual Mormon Night game I reunited with my past companions that aren't dead yet, making an even more ultimate squad. The only downside to the game was getting back home at 1:00 a.m. (don't worry we had permission :p), setting the tone for a drowsy 19th birthday.

Truthfully, my birthday wasn't anything special at all. I think that's a reoccurring theme on a mission. Holidays fly day and pass on as just normal, average days. Thanks to you all who gave me birthday wishes, though! It's weird to think we're all sprawled across the world. Probably the crowning moment of my birthday took place around 8:30 p.m. while Elder Dustin and I strolled the deserted streets of Centreville after all of our appointments and potentials falling through. The sidewalks, streets, everything was completely barren. I guess everyone was worn out after giving me a hard time. Regardless, we walked around wondering what to do when we walked by a karate dojo that's always been dark and closed every time we've passed before. This time, however, the lights on the side window were on, revealing a tall old black man in a black belt and black gi, rocking a gray afro and gray beard, canvased by a wall covered in katana swords. A real life afro samurai. Oh you know I had to knock on the door and talk to this man, which caught Elder Dustin completely out of the blue. Iheard a loud bark, "ENTER," which led into a steamy hot dojo, face to face with this 6'5 old master, his legs in a firm stance and hands on his hips. I introduced myself as a missionary and a fellow martial artist in Jeet Kun Do and how I was curious about what he taught.

It was at this point that I noticed the other wall not visible through the window that was covered with crosses and bible quotes. I swear on my life I'm not making this up. He began to tell me how Jeet Kun Do is for weak old people in Texas and how his Ryu Shyu style was on a whole new level, coupled with the holy power of God's defense. How am I supposed to reply to that? I just sat down and listened to what he had to say as he described his journeys through Japan and tournaments won across the nation. He tried selling membership to me and then tried to convert me to his A.M.E. church, the exact same church from where Stevie's funeral was held about a month ago. We left him with a Book of Mormon and a challenge to master it like he has the bible. Not sure he'll keep that challenge, but hopefully it'll pay off some day.

Elder Dustin afterwards told me how he wanted to see "master versus master bible bash". I explained that we don't bash and how pointless it is, but he continues to try and tip me on. Ever since he saw my mom write that I'm Qui-Gon from Star Wars he keeps calling me that. I guess that's about the best nickname ever (white handbook says otherwise heh heh). We've been finding new investigators left and right of all shapes and sizes. Each and every time we are brought back to firmly testifying in the first person that Jesus is the Christ, he lives, and that the Book of Mormon is another confirming witness of His truth. No matter what walk of life we are in or what kind of person we are, the Book of Mormon conveys pure, untainted goodness of spiritual nourishment. To share the Gospel is to share your love of the Gospel.

On my 19th birthday I reflected on how my life has changed in only a year. I feel like I've been filled to the brim with knowledge and experience and yet I got more than a year on the mission, let alone a whole life ahead of me. As simple as Christ's teachings may be, they truly take a life time to learn and digest. I'm eternally grateful for this lifeI get to live, and the best part is...it's only the beginning :)

xoxo

Elder Burgess

August 17, 2015

Swordfish, soft shell cab, hard shell crab, mussels, scallops, oysters, clams, and a pig foot were all ingested this week. Some tasted better than others. Some made me gag. not going to say which foot it was. What an insane week!! The immediate change in my life has to be from Elder Dustin coming into town. He's from Idaho Falls, Idaho, has the demure of a slacker high schooler, looks like a certain cartoon character named Beavis, and has a heart of gold. I haven't had a companion as quiet as Elder Dustin. It's probably because he's brand new in the mission and his first area is Kent Crazy Island. I think back to 10 months ago when I was in his shoes with Good ol' Elder Van De Graaff (currently Alec ;)) whenever I don't understand why something's not clicking or why he decided to agree with a self-proclaimed prophet we met on the street named Joshua over me about what the Book of Revelations is predicting. Thank goodness I wrote in a journal religiously or else I wouldn't know where he's coming from! We goof off and work hard, though. The humidity matched with hard old fishermen are rocking his world. One thing I love about Elder Dustin is how he says absolutely anything that's on his mind. Any time he feels homesick he tells me, every time he thinks we're in life-threatening scenarios he tells me; pretty much every thought he thinks he tells me. The trick will be getting him to share his testimony and thoughts with others. 

We got a call from a very old man in the ward who told us that his half paralyzed wife had returned home from the retirement home for some reason and they need a blessing. This elderly Brother Aston used to be a professional race car driver, his specialty tricked out Dodge Neons (I know right), which litter his front yard. He retired about 10 years ago at the age of 65. This man has a mind of stone, but his body has lost about 70 pounds as he's taken on illness. He shuffles in tiny steps jsut to get across the hall. Now his 100% bedridden wife is home needing all the care form old Brother Aston. Elder Dustin had never given a blessing before, so, contrary to his wishes, Brother Aston insisted that he give him a blessing. Prior to this Elder Dustin's testimony had been difficult to witness in purity. As he rested his hands on Brother Aston's head, I felt the complete wave of the Holy Ghost wrap when Elder Dustin began the hesitant blessing. That was a good moment seeing my dear trainee open up. I wonder if this is anything what it'll feel like to parent a kid.          naaahhhhhhhhh

Among the dozens of doors tracted in the oppressive heat up in Chestertown, an old black man opened the door immediately, telling us in a raspy voice to come into the dark room. Shell shocked from the light to dark we noticed a room full of old black guys chilling in Hawaii button ups, smoking, and drinking tons of whiskey at 3:00 in the afternoon. They all were laughing and joking around as we told our stories of doors slammed in our faces and bananas thrown. It wasn't until I started reading a passage in the Book of Mormon about the Holy Ghost revealing the mysteries of God that I realized what T.V. show had been blasting to the left of me on the flat screen. These hard drunk old guys had been watching High School Musical for at least an hour. I looked around further and saw every Disney Channel movie lining the walls along side the NWA and Tupac Cd's. They were totally drunk, so the message was kind of useless to a degree, but we gave them each Books of Mormon and carried on our way.

You never know what the world will show you if you knock on a door xD

xoxo

Elder Burgess

 DC temple in 100 degrees in a wool suit

August 3, 2015

Wow. What an insane week. When you live near the border of Delaware, trips outside the farmlands and Eastern Shore translate to the state of mind after a week long hike, looking around at society like a caveman in a foreign future. I'm getting used to it though! I'm nicely nestled in to the Kent Island Branch. It usually takes about 5 weeks for me to get accustomed to an area. It's also a little easier when there's about 50 people in Sacrament meeting to get to know, rather than 150 or 200. Marvel's kind of off the radar ever since the funeral. He's either not home or "asleep". He'll come around :).

As you can hopefully see, we traveled on down to the temple this Tuesday for an Endowment Session. We hitched a ride from a grouchy old man that we call Old Man Francesconi, zooming and lurching through the D.C. beltway from 90 mph to 10. One time he slammed on the brakes on a bridge and skid, launching Elder Teichert into the seat in front of him. I dieeeeeed laughing xD I'm grateful he drove us the two hour trip. Grouchiness is something that can hide charity, but it's still there. I managed to get him to crack a smile once or twice heh heh.

 Needless to say, by the time we arrived I was more than ready to enter the Temple. The gorgeous grounds and breathtaking architecture paled in comparison to the calm tranquility I experienced immediately entering the walls. I've  attended a temple service here before back in February with Elder Hinkle (shout out), so I knew where everything was and what to expect. This time, however, I had taken a name to do proxy work for from a member of the Branch. His name was James Hendry, a Scottish man who lived in the 1700's. The beauty of the Temple is how it is a reflection of unconditional love for others, regardless of what you are doing. The underlying, most crucial aspect of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is to first, love God, and second, love one another. Everything we do in the name of our religion needs to reflect these two commandments. The temple is no different. Inside is literally the House of God, a place of holiness and love you can distinctly feel. As the saving grace of Jesus Christ is eternally on us, beckoning us to let His healing hands lift us, it is still our decision based upon our works that open the gates of our hearts to God. The relationship of grace and works that go hand in hand is clearly seen through Temple work.

Whether it be baptisms, endowments (meaning heavenly gifts), or sealings, we are constantly in the service of God and our fellow men. I took the name of James Hendry upon me and witnessed the glory of God in its finest along side James, acting as the in between for him and God. In other words, I was acting as a true representative of Jesus Christ. Deeeep!! The emotions that flowed from the Holy Ghost came and went as I let myself relax and take in the moment. For the first time in my life, I felt like I understood an essential piece of God's plan. Temples aren't strange or new; rather they are the means to be the most Christlike possible in this life. 

I could go off on the temple forever. MAN.

The strength and comfort given Tuesday followed with me in the ridiculously hot days following. On Wednesday the last house we knocked on was immediately answered by a 19 year old looking guy who came right outside before we could say anything. The first thing he said was, "You're just who I wanted to see. Are you Jehovah's Witnesses?" we said no. Then he said, "How do I join the ministry?" in the most dedicated, direct way most missionaries don't carry.

Daniel and his dad Tony had just clicked play on the movie, "The Son of God" the exact moment we knocked on the door. WHAT?? yeah they invited us in, we discussed our service and doctrine and scripture and a whole lot of other things. We are going back tomorrow and i can tell these guys are the real deal.

God works with what we are and who we become, not with who we've been. As my man Baloo says, "Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities. Forget about your worries and your doubts." yeah man. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is really all we need. 

 27 Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

 28 If then God so clothe the grass, which is to day in the field, and to morrow is cast into the oven; how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith?

 29 And seek not ye what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, neither be ye of doubtful mind.

 30 For all these things do the nations of the world seek after: and your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things.

 31 ¶But rather seek ye the kingdom of God; and all these things shall be added unto you.

 32 Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

 33 Sell that ye have, and give alms; provide yourselves bags which wax not old, a treasure in the heavens that faileth not, where no thief approacheth, neither moth corrupteth.

 34 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

In Gospel terms, the bare necessities are simply to love God and to love your neighbor. The treasures of heaven don't come from worry and doubt ;)

xoxo

Elder Burgess

July 27, 2015

I've got a treasure trove of black preachers and hallelujahs, but nothing quite had me prepared for Stevie's funeral. It was at an A.M.E. church out in the cornfields outside of Centreville next to a cattle ranch. Elder Teichert and I wore our suits and shined shoes trying to look as respectful as possible and ended up getting mistaken as federal officers by a biker gang chilling outside the church before the viewing. They were called "The Jersey Thugs", as written on their torn denim biker vests with a punisher skull on the backs. We cleared things up with them and entered the humid building to witness a huge roomed filled with wailing and lamentations and people draped over chairs crying left and right. I'd never seen anything like it. On the mission I'd been to three funerals before that one, but they were all in a much more quiet setting. Also, I'm not sure I've ever gotten as many dirty looks as I got in those three hours. The service began after the funeral and the weeping escalated. Like five or six preachers were leading the program with solo songs and loud, extremely loud, prayers. Oh the choir was beautiful though. Too bad they only sung  once. What bothered me the most was how only a third of the service was focused on Stevie's life. The rest was basically a normal church service filled with praises and hallelujahs and yelling. The pastors even advertised their Sunday services multiple times.

Ok, rant done. sorry. :))

What's important is that we were there supporting Stevie's family. And while they didn't notice us there at the time, Marvel and his girlfriend Shar stopped us on a road yesterday and begged that we come teach them. Elder Teichert and I were totally caught by surprise. Man, I love those two. Who would have thought when we went by last night that a whole house full of incredibly shady family members of Stevie (who was most definitely a dealer) would welcome us in and start asking questions about heaven? All on the street people honk, wave, and lean out their car windows at stop lights to talk with us. Centreville is a crazy, cooky little town, but it's one of a kind.

As happens naturally when a death comes across our lives, I've been thinking about how much hope has blossomed into my life in knowing God's plan for us. This mortal time on the earth is only but a dot (an insane hilarious incredible loving yet trying dot) on the whole spectrum of things. In knowing how short this time is and how important it is to make the most of it, I throw down experiences in the fullest for roller coaster adventures. Yet the knowledge of the bigger picture of life after death comforts me to let me know the adventures will never cease. I'll be climbing mountains, teaching holmes, and genuinely living life with a heart to God always. With this gem of hope it's up to me to share it with others. That there's hope in Jesus Christ's resurrection, in an everlasting life of happiness just waiting to be sought. Death is as natural as birth in our lives. It's bound to happen. Make the most of what time you have, whether you have a body or not.

Friendships are one thing I'm discovering last eternally. The familiar feeling you get when you reunite with a friend you haven't seen since day one in the mission, paired with a friend you haven't seen in only a week. It all spreads a happiness and love that everyone deserves to share. I can only imagine what it will be like when I reunite after another year :) You all are awesome. I love you <3

xoxo

Elder Burgess

July 6, 2015

Who would have thought it's possible to get mosquito bites on every inch of your body when you're wearing high socks, pants, and over and under shirts. Oh it's possible. Just come over to the Island ....>:) The Fourth of July came and went as quickly and as ordinary as any day on the mission. Looking back at each holiday, even last Christmas, it's almost as if the holidays hold no meaning. We still proselyte, we still do service, we still knock on doors. The people we meet may be in a completely opposite state of mind, but the Lord's hand is always extended, so I guess ours need to be too.

Our new mission President, President Christiansen, changed our curfew Saturday night to be indoors by 10:30, rather than the usual 9:30, leading Elder Teichert and I to brainstorm an adventure to the furthest tip of the Island's wildlife reservation beach to watch the fireworks over the bay. Hence the Mosquitoes. heh. 

Honestly the Fourth of July was the least exciting day of the week! We picked up five new investigators, four of which told us they weren't interested within the next two days of visiting them. There was a horrible boat accident a week ago where a racing boat's engine cut and flew off into a raft that had a family on it, dramatically injuring them all and ending the life of their 7 year old daughter. The whole community is mourning for the tragic incident, but, since we are cut off from the news 100%, Elder Teichert and I had no idea. While we were knocking doors on a blazing humid day, I had the sudden inclination to knock on a home waaaaaaaaay down the street. Let me tell you, we were so tired and so sweaty that each step shook drops of sweat off like a dripping tree after a downpour. But off we went on the current of the Spirit. Out of all the homes in the entire massive area of Kent Island, we HAPPENED to knock on the door of the family that was hit by the boat. The father was ok, but the mother's in a coma at the hospital still. Their extended family was there and, after a brief discussion on their door step, invited us in to the home. We taught the Plan of Salvation and the Holy Ghost completely, lighting up their eyes with comfort unmistakable. They invited us back over in a few days and promised they'd come to church Sunday.

Two days later they texted us saying they were no longer interested and asked us to never come back.

Now, it's human nature to self reflect in situations like these on what I said wrong, how did I offend them, or what I did horribly wrong. Those thoughts fly in and out on repeat, making us feel like failures when, in reality, it was entirely their decisions and their actions that we have absolutely no say in. God Himself has no power over our own personal agency. It is a gift given to every person who has or ever will live on the earth. What matters is that I did my very best being the most loving, genuine person I could be in the moment shared with them. The amount of decisions and choices we make are innumerable in a single day, let alone in a lifetime. So how stinking silly is it to worry about one single choice made by another person we had the privilege to share our love with? Make the most of your own decisions. Prayerfully and courageously act in the name of God for those who need Him and you cannot be led astray. The ball's lobbed into another court behind a 10,000 foot concrete wall there's no hope of seeing through. All that matters is that I chucked that ball as hard as I possibly could. And accurately.   I hope.   :)

xoxo

Elder Burgess