January 18, 2016 - Living the dream

You'd think that the humid, bone-chilling cold around here would motivate large-bellied fellows to put on shirts when answering the door. 

Noooooope. 

Elder Flandro had no idea what to say when the man's beard reached the middle of his chest, holding his ear that was dripping with blood from a cut (who knows where from), and hairy belly peaking out the door. He wasn't interested, but his young daughter was intent on sending us away with tons of lollipops. that's always a bonus :)

We received a call from the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania mission informing us of a less active member who transferred his records into our Ward's boundaries. They didn't tell us where specifically he lived other than an address with the street giving a hint: Mountain road. And oh boy does he live on a mountain. Thirty minute drives north are a normal occurrence for us, but this time the GPS took us down "roads" just wide enough to squeeze our Subaru down (All Wheel Drive ftw), mud sloshing up onto the sides of the car, fallen trees hindering the path ahead waiting for lovely Elder flandro to lift out of the way, and, at one point, leaving us in a random field with no tire marks of any kind leading the way. Still, Modern technology can be trusted in the Appalachians, and we were eventually brought to Dale Boots secluded home. 

A vicious black dog definitely related to Cerberus was the next obstacle, but my dog whisperer skills quickly kicked into gear and before you knew it he was my new friend. A short and skinny bald man opened the door, astonished to not only have visitors on top of his mountain, but also to see them alive after his dog named, Shadow. It turned out his son was Dale Boots, 30 years old, and also happened to be 100% deaf. I will never forget the look of pure joy that spread across Dale's face when he saw us behind his dad. He rushed through the door and draped himself onto us in a bear hug I'm still recovering from. Communicating was a little slow writing notes to each other, though his excitement and relief to meet someone from the Church after who knows how long spoke on its own. We scheduled members to take him to church next week and our fluent ASL interpreter that lives in the ward with translate all of the meetings on Sunday for him. While we backed up he wave dhis massive arm in farewell off of his porch and yelled, "Goodbye, I love you!" at the top of his lungs as best as he could. 

It's moments like that that make this mission worthwhile. Glimpses and embraces of pure love that radiate from simply talking to someone about the Gospel of Jesus Christ are a stalwart testimony to me that God does live, that He truly know my name, and He wants the best for all of his children. Becoming an instrument in His hands is the pleasure of a lifetime.

xoxo

Elder Burgess