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