Puddle of Glory

Well..... I have a cool story...

We have had a few missionaries break out with chicken pox this month. So last night, I had to leave my house at 10:00pm to run to the hospital here because a missionary was teetering on consciousness. I guess it hit him really hard. Anyway, we finally got him situated in a room, President went home, and so did my comp. I stayed the night in the hospital with the Elder. We went to sleep at about 4:00am. at 2:00am, they needed medicine. President told me to "do what I had to do," So I had to leave the clinic without a comp at 2:30am and walk the dark streets of Perú alone until I found a pharmacy. Ha ha ha. I thought to myself, "if only my mom could see this..... she would DIE." Especially because the clinic is in a really spooky place. It's old... Anyway, I finally found a pharmacy, and they ended up not having the medicine....... So I walked back, and the clinic told me we would have to wait until the morning. So I sat awake next to a Colombian who was very upset at me until he fell asleep. He couldn't talk, because he had chicken pox in his mouth, but his eyes just screamed at me all night. I couldn't have done anything more for him, but he didn't understand.... it taught a little bit about how the Savior feels about us. When we are bitter because things that happen seem to be "God's fault," we should remember that we don't see the big picture. Christ does. God does. They do everything they can to help us. Sometimes we don't understand.

I have found that usually when you are upset at something, it's because you are missing information.

We also had an Elder go to Lima this week for his Visa. We sent him off, and got a call a few hours later from a payphone. He had forgotten his documentation, and they could do nothing for him. So we waited in the airport until 9:50pm (he was supposed to come back at 9:00pm) and so we decided to go search for him. . . . . I testify before the legions of this earth that calling your mission president at 10:30pm to tell him that a missionary is missing is not an easy or pleasant thing..... But after the call, I kept looking, I went with one of the assistants, and we walked around Trujillo until about 12:00am looking for anywhere that he could have gone. We finally found him in a taxi that was looking for our house........

I am out late very often.......... actually, every single day this week I was out in the streets until after 10:30pm...... I am so tired. This is hard work. It is different work. I hear about my friends' stories, and I am reminded how much I miss doing missionary work like that. Focus on nothing but investigators.... I found so much happiness doing that. This office has taught me so much, and made me 100x the man I was when I got here already, but I remember the sweetness of field work... I will probably be here until April, I imagine.

Will somebody please tell me how Kaylee Hopper is?

I thought of some things I need in the birthday package: More socks. Crystal light. Big bag of M+M´s. Whey's protein.

Also, I would like the lyrics to the song "sweet afton" by Nickelcreek..... you can email them to me

I know that this work is inspired. At this time, God expects us to care enough about our brothers and sisters to go help them. Christ has paid the price for their souls with His very own blood. It is our duty to capture the vision, and go to the rescue of those who we have been called to help. I understand what Alma was talking about when he said, "Oh that I were an angel," so that he could spread this message to every soul who would hear it.

Dad, tell each and every young man in the ward to go on a mission. Tell them to study Chapter 6 of Preach My Gospel. Tell them that it is the most worthwhile thing any of us could ever hope to do. It doesn't matter where we are called to in the work, because it is all the same. We are all the Savior's hands on the earth. We all serve the same Master and purpose. Tell the young men to let go and jump into this work. We need them out here. We need all the help we can get. God needs them. We have each been issued a Priesthood duty to come  out here and give our all for 2 years, and if we turn our backs on this work, we will break the heart of God Himself. It is not an easy road. But it is a beautiful one. I know I am where I need to be. I know that a mission prepares a young man for the duties of manhood unlike any other preparatory measure ever could. There is no substitute for these two years. We cannot aford to lose this chance. Get the young men out here. I personally beg each of them to give themselves to God. To throw away all their fears and other obligations to come and serve at His side for the greatest two years whey will have known to that point. It is the adventure of a lifetime.

I love you all,

-Elder Boekweg

 

Puddle of Glory

There was a fish who swam all day,

And never had a word to say,

Until he looked above the pond,

And saw the world, from far beyond,

He saw the birds who flew so high,

And seemed to swim in blues of sky,

With all his heart, he wished to be,

Like they, who had been born with wings,

So he, then too, could fly away,

And leave the place he had to stay,

The birds would laugh, from far above,

That he, a fish, was downward stuck,

That they would fly, and always see,

The swimming fish, he´d always be,

“You can´t be us,” Said all the birds,

The fish cried out, with stronger words:

“My God, my God, take all of me,

And make me what I want to be,

Give me wings, that I might fly,

And be like them, who swim in sky,”

And God said, “No, that isn´t right,

But calm down, things will be alright,

I never made a bird of you,

Because that´s not what best you do,

You were meant to be a fish,

And swim and hope and dream and wish,”

The fish said, “God, why not a bird?”

With sincerity, in every word,

“For that is what I want to be,

And not the fish, that you now see,”

God said, “See that every bird may fly,

And claim their home, in clouds up high,

But you, my fish, may always go,

Where none of them, will ever know,

A place of peace, below the pond,

Where birds that fly, do not belong,”

The fish then cried, he understood,

That every life on earth is good,

And though he´d sought another part,

This time she cried this strong remark:

“My God, my God, take all of me,

And make me what I ought to be,

Help me to accept your will,

This is, at end, your pond to fill,”

 

The fish kept swimming, just as before,

And did what His Master, of him, did implore,

And smiled in wonder, deep down in the pond,

Why he’d kept  his question, shut up for so long,