Week 69: Jungle Fever

Dear Family and Friends!

Hope you had a great Fourth of July! I live in a house with three Latin sisters, so my celebrations were limited to putting on red, white and blue clothes and eating banana pancakes that one of the sisters from Honduras coincidentally made. But it was awesome, though, because I spent the day doing what I love...being a missionary!

So I've packaged the events of this week in a different way this time around, hope it make sense!

To demonstrate that we do new things every day, this week:

They canceled the third hour of chruch so we could attend the funeral service of the mom of one of my recent converts. In Guatemala, the funeral procession is all walking, and men carry the casket on their shoulders. In the cementary, it's totally okay to sit and stand and walk all over the graves, and they sell cotton candy and juice to the mourners.

We told an investigator he could not be baptized. N. O. (He wants to do it on Sunday, without having gained a testimony of the restoration, just so his girlfriend won't dump him. I really think a lightning bolt will hit him if he were to try it.)

To demonstrate the depth of apostasy present here in Guatemala, this week:

A woman who blurted out the reason she thinks she can't be baptized: she likes to dance! (Mormons do dance.)

Someone else who told us they previously attended ¨The Church of Shakira.¨ ¨I just couldn't get used to all the dancing and raucous they made there,¨she said.  

To demonstrate the opposition that really is in all things, this week:

After 17 incredibly healthy months, I finally contracted dengue, a mosquito-carried disease that gives you a fever and makes your body hurt and is starting to give me a rash. 

This morning at 5 AM, we experienced a very powerful earthquake! My companion jumped out of bed and pulled me out too, and we went running outside, in case the house were to fall down. It didn't, nor did any nearby houses, so I can't decide if it was cool or scary.

To demonstrate the power of the priesthood present in the restored church, this week:

The blessing the elders gave me for dengue said I would be able to work uninterrupted. So far, it's been absolutely true!

After three of the four missionaries living in the house had very realistic dreams about nightly visitors, the other ward's bishopric dedicated our house. From that point on, all has been tranquil.

To demonstrate the depth of the Lord's love, this week:

When we were walking down an empty street, far from the center of the town, and "our hearts were depressed, and we were about to turn back, behold, the Lord comforted us" (Alma 26:27, Book of Mormon) and put a service opportunity right in front of us, and we were able to help and teach a brand new, large, family.

When it was Sunday night and raining hard, when we were tired and short on lessons and new investigators, when every door was closed shut and the district leaders were already sending us messages thinking about P-day, we prayed to find a family and the first door that opened was one, a mom and dad and their two daughters, very interested in the gospel!

To demonstrate that miracles do happen, this week:

On Saturday, the ward's second counselor invited us to lunch in his home and gave us each a huge, steaming bowl of chicken soup. "I served you so much," he said, "Because the ward needs you to go out this afternoon and work extremely hard." He told us that the attendance goal for Sunday was 140 people, and he was trusting in us. Well, I'm not sure if it had to do more with us or with the families from out of town who came to see a baby blessed and an elder who finished the mission and brought his family back to say goodbye, but when all was counted up on Sunday the attendance was...140. Not more or less. With 17 less active members present, many of whom  we've been working with. The finishing elders' mom also played the piano, so the congregation didn't have to sing a capella. Woo hoo!!

The previously mentioned funeral procession was very well-attended by ward members, which made me grateful to see their support. Gaspar, a miracle convert, was baptized in April and is the one who went to 4 of the 5 sessions of General Conference beforehand. Well, he hadn't come to church for about three weeks, because his mom had been sick. This week, when she took a very serious turn, we let three ward members know, and before we knew it, ALL of them were going to visit her and Gaspar and their family! I don't know how a unit that almost doesn't have ward councils or home or visiting teachers can mobilize so fast, but they did, and we were sure grateful for it. Because life isn't easy for a new convert, ESPECIALLY when passing through grief like this. But when I saw Gaspar walking in the funeral procession, with two sturdy ward members - worthy priesthood holders, and men who are his friends - gripping his shoulders and walking with him, side by side - I knew that Gaspar will be okay. He has the gospel, the knowledge of the Plan of Salvation, and, most importantly, he has friends to help see him through. It makes me think of Alma's words, describing the baptismal covenant that these two brothers were keeping so clearly, "...ye are desirous to come into thefold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death.¨

May we all keep our convenants, and love one another, and make every day a special one, this week. 

Love,

Hermana Victoria Ison

Week 68: God is Our Loving Heavenly Father

Hey all!

This week was pretty special. Here's why:

The Change Meeting

When people who are getting transferred find out their new areas, the new missionaries arriving to the mission bear their testimonies, and we all say goodbye to the ones who're finishing their missions and going home. This all happens on a Wednesday morning every six weeks, in what is known as the change meeting.

We didn't have changes, and I totally didn't want to go (because I've been to the last several ones, and the next time it comes around, I'll be the one going home...in the first week of my last change, I just wanted to go out and visit people, which is what a missionary is for!). But, for being sister leaders, they had us go so we could help keep people reverent and know where all the sisters are going, etc. 

It ended up being a good thing, because the family of one of the APs had come to pick him up from his mission. He sat in between his mom and his dad, translating for them, but his sister was on one side and couldn't hear. My companion noticed and nudged me, so I went over and translated for her. 

¨Oh, thank you,¨ she told me. ¨You don't know how lost I was!¨

It's nice to be needed, and it totally humbled me! Maybe what I wanted to do that Wednesday morning was go out and save the world, in my own way of thinking. But what God wanted me to do was something else, something really simple. I'm grateful to Him for gently reminding me that my will is not His. 

The Closed Area

There's a bunch of new missionaries coming in September, but until then, Mission Reu is short on missionaries! This time around, President had to close five areas, which means there's five wards or branches in mission boundaries that now don't have missionaries where there used to be some. 

Our ward is one of them. Hermanas Rodas y Carcamo, two really good friends, are now elsewhere in the mission, and my companion and I are alone in the ward. It's the first time in the mission that I haven't shared a ward with other missionaries! Totally feeling the weight of responsability. 

But we spent Tuesday night in the rain hurridly learning where the other sisters' investigators live, and then the rest of the week trying to teach them. It's been really fun, actually, the hand off. We've been blessed to get to know some really cool people, and I know God will help us teach them in the way they need. 

The Sister Training Meeting, Talks in Church, Ward Movie Night, and Changing Houses

Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday: everyday a different task! It's rare in the mission that there's so many big things to do all piled up next to each other! I think Heavenly Father is reminding me what life at home is going to be like. I can't say I don't miss those ¨good old days¨ in the mission, days I used to think were boring, weeks of just teaching day in and day out. That's when I learned SO much. But I'm learning a lot now too, learning and loving every single day. There's so many moments where I just stop and thank my Heavenly Father for being where I am. Two years ago I would have said you were crazy if you told me I'd be finishing a mission in Guatemala right now. But now I'm here, without a single doubt in my mind that God lives. He has worked a miracle in my life. And he works miracles every single day. 

I echo Moroni's words, in Moroni 9:19 in the Book of Mormon: ¨And if there were miracles wrought then, why has God ceased to be a God of miracles and yet be an unchangeable Being? And behold, I say unto you that he changeth not; if so he would cease to be God; and he ceaseth not to be God, and is a God of miracles.¨

The Best Part

There's one more amazing story I have to tell you.

For a while we've had a hard time bringing people to church. Almost all the less actives and recent converts we're working with are coming, but investigators... not so much. This week just one person came, but it was a miracle, because he was a reference from the other sisters that we hadn't been able to get ahold of all week, but who came by himself to church on Sunday after we invited him that morning at 7:30 a.m. 

Anyway, after church and lunch, before going out to work again, we prayed to Heavenly Father, thanking him that Thomas came, and asking him to help us find someone we could teach who would want to be baptized in July. I remember when I said the words in the prayer, I kind of doubted a bit. Maybe we were asking too much of God. Maybe He had other plans for us... But I asked anyway, halfway trusting that this time, the blessing would come. 

Four hours later, we're walking in the front gate of Cristel's house, when her aunt stops us. ¨Sisters,¨ she says, with tears in her eyes. ¨You're like angel's falling out of the sky for me right now.¨

She proceeds to explain that she and her boyfriend of almost a year were just about ready to go out and look for us. After who knows how many months of listening to different missionaries and going to church activities, but battlings with fears of how his very Evangelical family would react, 20-year-old Kevin has decided to get baptized. He wants to recieve the missionary lessons and prepare himself for July 12th.

It is the answer to the prayer I should have uttered with more faith.

I repeat: God works miracles. He lives. He knows us. He answers prayers. 

I testify that when we humble ourselves and sincerely repent, the blessings come quickly. There's so many more miracle stories I would love to tell you to prove that, but... times' up!

Until next week :)

Hermana Ison

Week 67: Like it Should Be

Hello friends and family,

This week was a great one! Because we petted a day old calf! And, the real reason... because Cristel got baptized. :)

Cristel is 9 years old and pretty poor. Her grandma is a very, very faithful member who got baptized about 4 years ago. Her many married children are in various stages of accepting or rejecting the gospel. Cristel's mom and dad are as far off as can be; they stayed in bed sleeping instead of coming to their daughter's confirmation. But the mom came to the baptism at least, along with Cristel's less active aunts and uncles, so that's a step in the right direction.

Anyway, Cristel is super cute. She's the oldest of her four siblings and helps out a lot around the house. She doesn't do super well in school, but she really made an effort to understand the things we taught her and read the pamphlets and scripture passages we left her. Her grandma drilled her on the steps of the repentance process, the substances prohibited by the Word of Wisdom, and the 10 commandments. By the day of her baptismal interview, she had it all memorized! I think the elder who interviewed her walked away astounded.

A mini miracle: The day before her baptism, Cristel had a fever and a lot of mouth pain. The day of her baptism, she woke up even worse, thanks to a cavity in one of her baby teeth molars that was infected. As we are in Guatemala, the solution was that her 19-year-old aunt pulled the tooth out for her. I don't know if they used anesthesia or anything, but it wouldn't surprise me to hear that Cristel didn't cry either way. She showed up to her baptism a few hours later, face completely swollen, but smiling. We asked if it hurt. ¨Not anymore,¨she said, shrugging her shoulders and running over to see the white dress she would put on for her baptism.

It was a beautiful service, for a beautiful child of God.



On Sunday we had a miracle too! But it started on Wednesday, when some missionaries from another area contacted a teenager who lives in our area, really close to our house, actually. We tried to contact him throughout the week but only managed to speak to him on the phone. Saturday night we invited him to church, Sunday morning we passed by... and he came!

He stayed for the whole three hours, really liked it, and was fellowshipped by Gaspar, who was baptized only two months ago but already feels so at home that he was explaining everything to Ryan and inviting him to institute. It was like the most beautiful scene in the world: Gaspar with his white shirt and tie, hand on Ryan's shoulder, gesturing to the church hallway and bearing his testimony. So beautiful. Like ice cream with sprinkles on top.

We visited Ryan after church on Sunday and he has a bunch of doubts about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. It'll be fun to teach him! :)

Well, I've got to go! But I love you guys a lot. Thanks for reading my emails, and thanks for all your efforts to follow Jesus Christ in your own lives, wherever you are. Jesus is our captain, our king. I am so grateful for his sacrifice. He lives.

Love,

Hermana Victoria Ison

Week 66: It Was Exactly the Same

Greetings to everyone in the homeland! 

Here's a slightly more artsy sketch of this past week:

SanSe: Land of Traditional Skirts

A woman wearing the typical clothing of this part of Guatemala was trying to carry several big bags and some long black plastic electrical tubes into a building that was once a store and is now the courtyard of a house. We stopped to help her, but she gave us a wary look, as most people, especially those who wear the traditional clothing, do.

Then her grandson came out and kindly accepted our help and that was how we got inside. Once there, we camped out on some plastic chairs and a wet hammock and started to get to know the 63 year-old woman, Leonor Isabel. 

Turns out that she doesn't know how to read, but has everyone of the 10 commandments memorized. Her dad was a faithful Seventh-day Adventist, her mom not so much. After we got on the roof to help some construction workers tie down some metal poles, she laughed and warmed up to us. She gave us some soda and started to cry: her mom died seven days earlier.

Sometimes I look at people who are living lives so different than mine and just wonder what they're thinking. But when her tears came down, I knew. I knew what it was like to feel angst toward someone and then lose them, and then repent of all the times you didn't tell them how much they meant. I knew that she is my sister, and behind her traditional clothes and hairdo, we are the same. My companion felt it too, because it was the Spirit of God teaching it to us. I hope our love, and the love God has for our sister, Leonor Isabel, came across in the hugs we gave her.

Two days later, we went to help her make tamalitos for the celebration that marks nine days after the passing of a loved one. I don't know what I'd imagined, a kitchen space with a big pot over a fire and Leonor Isabel there. That wasn't exactly it. Instead, we walked in to find six women, all in the traditional clothing, gathered around the many pots that were there, spooning tamal mix into palm fronds and wrapping them up.

At first, they were all giving us that well-known wary look. They spoke to each other in kiche, the traditional language, and we didn't know what they were saying. But as we went straight to work and begin to win their confidence, they started making jokes about dressing us in the traditional clothing and keeping us there as their daughter in laws. All in good fun, we played along. 

Lapsing into a moment of silence, I looked around me and felt peace. I remembered all the times I've been gathered around in kitchens with my mom and grandmas and aunts, preparing meals for special days. Joking about family members, teasing the cousins that pass through the room, reflecting on the years gone by.... 

Two different continents, two different cultures, two very different lives. But right then, right there, for this LDS missionary serving in Guatemala, it was exactly the same. 

And I know that it is the same. We may look different, we make act different, but in the end, we all just want to be loved. We want to know that someday our Heavenly Father will reach out and let us come running into his arms, and tell us ¨Come, my child, job well done.¨

I know that he will, if we are faithful to him. And I will do everything I can as a missionary to cross these cultural, linguistical, and social boundaries and make Leonor Isabel and all my traditional sisters know what I for so long recited every Sunday in Young Women: ¨We are daughters of our Heavenly Father who loves us and we love him.¨

SanSe: Land of Hard Hearts

This week has been difficult, in a way. The goal in the mission is to be teaching, at any given time, five complete families (in other words, the mom, dad, and kids all together.) For a little while, we had six. Four of those families could be mine, I love them so much. As we've taught them the lessons, we've come to know them. We've seen their challenges and weaknesses, and also their faith and strength. We have prayed and fasted for them. 

But this week, we had to drop all of them. For one reason or another, they're not ready to progress. Carlos and Myrna won't come to church. Norma and Juan are so caught up in her pregnancy they aren't making time for God. Carlos left his wife, Juana, and Juana always says she'll come to church but never does. Carmen and Juan are too afraid of changing to even come to a Family Home Evening in one of the members' homes. 

It breaks my heart, literally. But as I learned this week in an exchange with a new missionary from Texas, we have to trust in God. As human beings - and even as missionaries, endowed and set apart with the power of God - we will never be able to change hearts on our own. We have to trust that God will do it, in his own good time. 

And I know he will. 

Evidence: We got word two weeks ago that a family we worked with when I was training Hermana Avendano, Rosario and Jose, were finally married and baptized. Writing their whole story would take three days worth of internet time, but the point is: it's a miracle. It required I don't know how many sets of missionaries and a lot of patience from members, but it's proof:  God always does his part.

SanSe: Land of Volcano Views

So, on Sunday morning I was feeling kind of down because we'd traipsed through a muddy cornfield to get to one of our investigator's houses, only to hear that they weren't going to come to church. AGAIN. Knowing this meant dropping the last of my supposedly golden families, I felt kind of crummy. Walking with my head down (not so much to see where I was going as we crossed a small brook but more out of sadness and frustration), the Lord sent one of his tender mercies: the Holy Ghost, reminding me of my mother's parting words, reminding me to remember where and who I am.

So I looked around, and, more importantly, I looked up. To a gorgeous view of two volcanoes sillhoutted against the sunrise. The birds chirped, the cows grazed, and, seeing it all, I remembered to be grateful. Who else gets to go hiking in the morning before church? When else in my life will I get to take in this sights like this?

Zooming out to see things from the eternal perspective, I realized only having children as investigators in church again wouldn't be the end of the world. All in good time...All in God's time. 

SanSe: The Perfect Land for Me

To conclude, I am ridiculously happy, as always. There's ups and downs in mission and normal life, but it's just the way God teaches and gently, proddingly reminds us, to be like his son, Jesus Christ.

People keep reminding me that my mission ends soon. There's nine more weeks, if you want to know. 

I think.... how that's an elementary school grading period. So much can happen in that time, and yet how fast it passes. It's funny how different a single span of time can be, how many different things it can include. How once a ten-year-old chubby girl studied indeginous cultures for nine weeks, and now a tall, white gringa in skirts walks among people who are not just pictures in books, loving them with her whole heart, hoping to be God's hands here on this earth for at least nine more weeks.

I love you all and wish you the best, wherever you are on this, God's good earth.

Tori/Hermana Ison

Week 65: Can We Talk a Little More About Christ?

Hi friends and family!

So much to say and so little time...

Right now I'm sunburnt because all morning we played softball! I fast pitched (muscle memory never goes away!) and batted in a lot of runs. It took me about a full minute to remember what a grand slam is called. Baseball has so much vocabulary. We basically made up our own Spanish words for the things with the Latin missionaries.

Playing made me miss dad, and all the hours he had patience with me, when he caught my many pitches and gave me advice. Not to mention all the volleyball games he went to, the throwing shoes he bought me, the conversations on the way home from basketball games, how he taught me to dribble the ball... he even learned to retrieve shot puts just because I wanted to throw them. I know it's not Father's Day yet, but I've been remembering all those many beautiful moments, and just want to say thank you, Phil Ison, for being such a good dad. :)

Also, this week, a frog entered into our house. I don't know how or why or where, but all of a sudden there was a head-sized zappo sitting on our back porch one night. Thankfully, the neighbors came to get it out. I'm good with frogs in the wilderness, but in the house? No thank you!

This email is titled as it because this week we met the mom/grandma of one of the families we're teaching. The children in this family have gone to church on their own for a month, but their parents haven't come once. It's the first time they've ever really seriously contemplated spiritual things, and they're very reluctant to start the repenting process.

Meeting the grandma taught us why.

¨I think it's just great that you're visiting my family,¨ she said. ¨But I tell them they have to think these things through really well. I'm old and about to die, if I get baptized I don't have that much time to mess up! But my son? My grandkids? They're young. They have their whole lives out in front of them. They need to be real careful if they're going to try to get close to God.¨

I just bit my lip and tried to silence my tongue. No one had ever pronounced this particular fear quite as clearly as la Hermana Fidelina. And it made me so sad to think that she, and all of her posterity, don't understand hardly anything about the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

So you better believe we've been talking about it. And we've been reading the Book of Mormon with them as a family. And we're starting to see the change. The parents are just starting to understand that they can't save themselves, that God is not a cruel, punishing power but a loving, caring Father, who sacrificed his only Son so that every one of his children could reach their full potential.

I think King Benjamin says it best, in Mosiah 3: 1, 5 to 13, 17 to 18, in the Book of Mormon:

And again my brethren, I would call your attention, for I have somewhat more to speak unto you; for behold, I have things to tell you concerning that which is to come.

For behold, the time cometh, and is not far distant, that with power, the Lord Omnipotent who reigneth, who was, and is from all eternity to all eternity, shall come down from heaven among the children of men, and shall dwell in a tabernacle of clay, and shall go forth amongst men, working mighty miracles, such as healing the sick, raising the dead, causing the lame to walk, the blind to receive their sight, and the deaf to hear, and curing all manner of diseases.

And he shall cast out devils, or the evil spirits which dwell in the hearts of the children of men.

And lo, he shall suffer temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer, except it be unto death; for behold, blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people. 

And he shall be called Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Father of heaven and earth, the Creator of all things from the beginning; and his mother shall be called Mary.

And lo, he cometh unto his own, that salvation might come unto the children of men even through faith on his name; and even after all this they shall consider him a man, and say that he hath a devil, and shall scourge him, and shall crucify him.

And he shall rise the third day from the dead; and behold, he standeth to judge the world; and behold, all these things are done that a righteous judgment might come upon the children of men.

For behold, and also his blood atoneth for the sins of those who have fallen by the transgression of Adam, who have died not knowing the will of God concerning them, or who have ignorantly sinned.

But wo, wo unto him who knoweth that he rebelleth against God! For salvation cometh to none such except it be through repentance and faith on the Jesus Christ.

And the Lord God hath sent his holy prophets among all the children of men, to declare these things to every kindred, nation, and tongue, that thereby whosoever should believe that Christ should come, the same might receive remission of their sins, and rejoice with exceedingly great joy, even as though he had already come among them.

And moreover, I say unto you, that there shall be no other name given nor any other way nor means whereby salvation can come unto the children of men, only in and through the name of Christ, the Lord Omnipotent.

For behold he judgeth, and his judgment is just; and the infant perisheth not that dieth in his infancy; but men drink damnation to their own souls except they humble themselves and become as little children, and believe that salvation was, and is, and is to come, in and through the atoning blood of Christ, the Lord Omnipotent.

We can fall and rise and fall and rise time and time again. But we can only rise, thanks to Christ. I am so grateful to him, and so aware that he is who helps me rise, time and time again.

Love always,

Hermana Victoria Ison

Week 64: News from Retalhuleu

Hey everybody!

How's Indiana/the United States? Is it summer time yet? Please eat some warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies for me!

Hope you enjoy the reflections this week....

(And I know my time left in the mission is short, but I still love letters! Thanks to those who've been sending some :D)

Thoughts on being OLD in mission time

This week my companion and I discovered a new disease. It's called: I can't do anything but be a missionary!

We were sitting on a member's front steps waiting for another member of the Primary Presidency that was going to come with us to visit a family we're teaching. All kinds of people were passing by and I was growing desperate: 10 minutes without talking to any of them!

Seriously, it's all I can do. If any short period of time goes by and I'm not doing mission work (contacting, teaching, etc.), I start getting antsy. My companion might kill me... but, she's ¨old¨ in mission age too, and may be suffering the same symptoms. We can't even have regular conversations without inviting people to do

Although, I suppose it's a blessing... So many missionaries don't understand why they're here. I'll stop complaining about knowing it all too well. I really have prayed to be able to fulfill and magnify this calling. (Moroni 9:6, Book of Mormon)

A Change

We had transfers and Hermana Betancourth went to Tecun Uman - one of the first of four sister missionaries to serve in that border town in the history of the mission. I'm sure she's living it up!

In her place came Hermana Arévalo, from El Salvador. Like almost all of my companions, we entered the mission field at the same time. We're both probably going to finish our missions here in San Sebastian...and we're going to do it having so much fun!

She laughs all the time. At every little thing. It's amazing.

Especially because I was worried that the mission was making me a really serious person. But Hermana Arévalo is reminding me how to be lighthearted. It's nice :)

Random Facts

On Saturday people we visited gave us mangos, cantaloupe, and avocado. By the end of the day our backpacks were so heavy! And then our stomachs were so full :)

In the end, I did get parasites. But it was just like having a bad stomachache. And they very obediently went away when the nurses gave me some pills. No harm done!

We're teaching a family that live really far away. But every Sunday the kids (ages 5, 9, 12, 14) leave their house, wait on the side of the highway for a taxi to pass by and take them to town, and come to church! They stay for the three hours and love it, and then they go home. I don't know why the parents are so stubborn and don't want to come, but we're working on them. Advice?

Another MIRACLE!

Remember, Yosselin? The one who followed us in the pouring rain so we would come back and answer her questions, and got baptized on her birthday?

Well, she's been baptized for eight months now, and it's been kind of difficult for her. Some of her family members also got baptized but then stopped coming to church, other family members criticized her even more, she had some health problems, etc..

About a month ago my mission daughter (who lives in my house now and is the one who was with me when Yosselin was baptized) and I found out the Yosselin hadn't gone to church for a couple Sundays and just wasn't doing very well spiritually or emotionally.

We didn't know what to do. There's only so much a missionary can do for a convert, no matter how much we love them. We talked about her for a long time, and then we knelt down and prayed for Yosselin, turning her and her future over to the Lord.

Then, on Thursday, after the changes, the zone leaders mentioned they needed a mini missionary for one of the sisters who was left in a threesome. A mini missionary is a youth from a neighboring stake who serves as a full-time missionary (without being officially set apart) for a few weeks until more missionaries arrive at the mission, or other changes are made to accommodate the companionless missionary.

They asked me if I knew anyone. Racking my brain...and Yosselin's name popped out. We called her right that minute. I still had the phone number memorized.

The next day at 8 AM sharp the elders were loading her suitcase into the mission truck and taking her to her new home. She's serving in the same zone as both me and Hermana Avendano (the missionaries who baptized her.)

It is a miracle.

I really don't have words to thank God. He takes care of every one of his children. He knows their needs and He knows in what moment he will fill them. When there are things (or people or situations) that we can not control, we can turn them over to him, trusting completely, because He will never fail.

I read these words from one of my favorite chapters in the Book of Mormon this morning, and they seem fitting now (Jacob 4: 7-10):

Nevertheless, the Lord God showeth us our weakness that we may know that it is by his grace, and his great condescensions unto the children of men, that we have power to do these things.Behold, great and marvelous are the works of the Lord. How unsearchable are the depths of the mysteries of him; and it is impossible that man should find out all his ways. And no man knoweth of his ways save it be revealed unto him; wherefore, brethren, despise not the revelations of God.

For behold, by the power of his word man came upon the face of the earth, which earth was created by the power of his word. Wherefore, if God being able to speak and the world was, and to speak and man was created, O then, why not able to command the earth, or the workmanship of his hands upon the face of it, according to his will and pleasure?

Wherefore, brethren, seek not to counsel the Lord, but to take counsel from his hand. For behold, ye yourselves know that he counseleth in wisdom, and in justice, and in great mercy, over all his Works.

I know that God lives. And I know that he knows best. May we ever trust in him, not just in word, but in actions too.

I love you all and still pray for you. Maybe I've become a Guatemala missionary and lost who I used to be, but we're still brothers and sisters under the same sky.

Thank you for all the good you do.

Much love, until we meet again,

Hermana Victoria Ison

Week 63: Holding Out for Miracles

I thought my companion was crazy when she asked Vicente if he wanted to get baptized.

He was lying in gently swaying hammock muttering, ´´Í'm dying, I'm dying.´

Eighty-seven years had nearly shut both his eyes, profoundly wrinkled all his skin, severely messed up his prostrate, and done who knows what with his mind. But the friendly old man is a child of God, and all the effects of age couldn't stop my companion, or the member who brought us there, from seeing that.

We sang him a hymn and he really lit up when he heard it. ´sing me another,´´ he begged. 

So we looked at each other, smiled, shrugged, and opened our hard-backed green books again.

We sang another hymn, and another. We visited every day this week, with a different member of the church accompanying us each time. Every single one of them seemed to immediately love Brother Vincent, and was willing to do anything so that he could come to church and be baptized. 

His daughter, Manuela, stopped coming to church a long time ago, and is living with a man she's not married to, Jeimy. But they both got so happy to see this patriarch stop with his chorus of Í'm dying,´ put down his walking stick, and step up into the car that came to take him to church.

He supported well the physical strain of his baptism, and satisfyingly swallowed the bread and water of the Sacrament on Sunday. He even made conversation with another old man from the ward who came up to welcome him. That was so cute: two viejitos sitting together in the foyer. 

All in all, it's a miracle.

We had made the goal to baptize somebody every weekend this month, but didn't have anyone ready for this week. Then, out of thin air, a member takes us to visit a less active sister, and we get to know Brother Vincent. He is able to partake of the saving ordinance of baptism, and is all the happier for it in the end. The members of the ward go above and beyond making sure that everything come to pass smoothly. 

It's a miracle.

One of the many miracles I've lived this week, actually.

I don't know... it's hard to ignore now that my time in the mission is running short. But I feel like the less time there is, the more miracles I see! Things I have waited for my whole mission are happening... it's crazy. 

It makes me realize that God always has more planned for us. 

It also makes me think of this talk from the October General Conference, Look Ahead and Believe, from one of the church's pioneer leaders in Africa. 

Whether we're like an 87-year-old man being born again, or a sister missionary who's been out awhile seeing evermore the hand of God, I testify that it is never too late to progress. This life is time to prepare to meet God (Alma 34, Book of Mormon). It is never too late to start preparing. Never too late to change.

Never too late to live miracles. 

May your eye be single to the glory of God each and every day this week  as you note and make miracles in your lives.

Much love,

Hermana Ison