July 6, 2016

A banjo playing, mandolin plucking, harmonica jamming hill-billy bluegrass Fourth of July hoedown was quite the sight for Elder Gorman's South African eyes. He'd never heard nor seen such a thing in his 22 years on the planet. Man I wish I would have had a picture of his face when we went up requested them to play "You Are My Sunshine". They spoke straight southern country babbles in response. Though E Gorman was a little perplexed I managed to understand the "yessir that's my momma's favorite tune" just enough to nod and smile in confidence. Holidays are always weird on the mission, but my two Fourth of July celebrations have not been a let down. As my love of God, family, and my fellow people increases, so does my gratitude for the freedoms I enjoy and take for granted too often here in the U.S. Patriotism definitely means a lot more to me now.

Now that Summer's in its full swing of heat bashes, it seems like knocking doors takes precedence in the day hours just like last year on Kent Island. Vacations hastily lift families to other states and beaches, work still continues for adults, and investigators dot in and out of contact with their hectic schedules. There we were in a dusty gravel trailer park knocking on doors that have beat down cars half rolled in when I realized my back was so sweaty it was dripping through my shirts and down behind me in trail. I'm not sure I've caught glance of that phenomenon in the actual dropping motions before. Fatigued and over heated we knocked on the trailer park's owner's home. Nothing. Despite the let downs, air conditioning was a godsend on the ride to the next stop. 

That night as we planned out the next day were contemplating where we should go. Immediately Elder Gorman and I both got the impression to return to the despised trailer park to knock on the owner's home again at the exact same time. It made zero logical sense, but we decided to go with the impression and have faith that God would lead us to where we needed to be.

This time a thick overcast cloud cover offered shade but added humidity as we rolled up to the house. Hopeful and a little unsure of ourselves we journeyed up the steps to the thick wooden door. To our amazement a woman opened up, raised her brows at first sight of us, and smiled as she exclaimed, "Mormons! I love Mormons!" She told us her name was Deborah and her two best friends for years were Mormon but they moved away. In their years of knowing each other Deborah always had a little push in her mind to ask them why they were so happy, even in hard circumstances, but she never acted on her curiosity. Now with us right there on her porch she asked us, "Why are you so happy?"

The question is one we each need to ask ourselves from time to time. "Can I confidently say I'm happy?" I thought about it for a moment, then replied, I know who I am, I know God, I know he loves me, and I know that he's guiding me on a path bound for freedom. 

Perhaps the recent Fourth of July celebration had eeked its way into the  reply, but what I said I meant. Elder Gorman followed up with the three principles of happiness in faith, hope, and charity, and we began teaching of the Restoration of the Gospel. Her life had been in the deep end of darkness and she was starving for hope. A light from God has reached down to her to grab a hold of and now she's climbing out onward to a fresh life of joy. 

Miracles like these tend to begin in ugly, dusty, and sweaty circumstances, yet they bloom from adversity into newfound hopes and realities. Beginning to understand our individual roles in the grand orchestra of God is a humbling and inspiring experience.

xoxo

Elder Burgess