i just did me some talking to the sun

fam bam,

it's transfer week.

i'm being transferred.

i'm training.

so, whitewash training. again.

i'm staying up north. finishing north, not in the donbass.

who knows where i'll be.

время покажет.

everything is coming together in saltovka.

there are so many potentials.

member love, trust, friendships, recognition, and relationships building.

yesterday a member came up to us and said her sister's ready. her sister wants to come to church. sees the difference here, though she can't exactly figure it out and it's all still foreign to her. so she wants us to come to her home first. but she's ready.

and so my work is done.

building, moving, shaking.

and then moving on to do it again.

i love saltovka.

i love these members.

i love this beautiful area.

our beautiful apartment.

right outside our dom, is a yard with a playground and many trees.

it's a little bit like a corner of a canyon. like park city in the fall. i adore it.

i'm sad to leave.

i'm grateful i got to be here, though. even if it was just six weeks.

moving on. here we go.

a few evenings ago, we stopped by a recent convert's home that hasn't been to church in awhile.

we took her flowers. met her mom. shared a spiritual thought.

on the way home as we passed through the dark and wet streets on the way back to the bus, my thought was this: "i do. i really do.

i like being a missionary."

i like the stopping by surprises. the unique role we play. the filling lives with light.

a few days later when visiting them again in an actual appointment, at the end they said there's just some sort of inspiration that comes whenever we come. something. the holy ghost, i told them. and they said, 'well, yes.'

then i realized this week that i'd probably never be as patient with us as these people are. especially with new missionaries. yet another reason the church is true. another reason i was born into it. otherwise i'd never let myself find it.

on the way back from a lesson with a member with us last week, there was a man i learned a lesson from.

it went like this:

you're blind. it's drizzling autumn rain as you walk on broken roads with a cane to guide the inclines of your path. little do you know, you're about to walk into a deep puddle. but someone to your side puts their arm through yours. guiding your path away from uneven road. leading all the way, prompting at each step up or down. all the way into the metro. a stranger. you can't see them. you don't know where they may take you. then it turns out to be a strengthening hand. a guide through confusion not even fully visible. therein lies trust. true, pure trust.

sergei, was his name. and the member with us was the guiding hand.

this is longer than it needs to be. just some tidbits here and there.

because i never know what else to really write about anymore.

my dreams are in russian lately. except multiple times they involve me being corrected or correcting myself with what i'm saying.

fluency? not quite.

much love,
cectpa em.