The Atonement

Wow. I don't even know how to express my thoughts from this week.

Since I became an STL this week I had the opportunity to go to missionary leadership counsel on Tuesday. This meeting changed the way I look at missionary work.

The entire meeting was focused on the Atonement. The Spirit was strong and at any given moment you could look around the room and see tears in somebody's eyes.

I've been reflecting on it a lot this week. And I learned something.

I learned that the church wasn't restored so that we could have a Prophet, the church wasn't restored so we could read the Book of Mormon, the church wasn't restored so we could go to the "true church."

The church was restored so that we, through the priesthood, could have access to the Atonement.

The Atonement means so much to so many different people through the world, but for me it means we can change. It means that each of us have the opportunity to become better and to become stronger. Word's can't express exactly how I feel about it, and I'm sure I'm doing a terrible job of explaining through text what the Atonement means to me, but I just want all of you reading this to know that I know the Atonement is real.

I know that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ we can find peace. Lasting peace. The kind of peace that can only come through knowing there is something bigger than ourselves that we are a part of. The kind of peace that comes from knowing there is a plan that was created by the best planner that ever planned.

The kind of peace that can only be found by accessing heaven.

So I know that the Atonement is real. I know that it works. I know that no matter how far we think we are, how many mistakes we think we've made, or how impossible it looks to come back, He is always there with His had outstretched to pull us to shore.

And that's why I'm here. That's why I've left my family for eighteen months to move across the country to a people I've never met. Because I know the Atonement is the best thing anyone can ever use in their lives, and I want others to feel that same joy too.

So come, find out more.

Cold tile

I grinned from ear to ear as I stood on the cold tile in the baptismal font. I plugged the drain and stood their as the water started to rise to my ankles.

I was entering the missionary training center later that day. My bags were zipped and the rest of my things were put in a box in a closet to wait for my return. Orlando Florida. That's where I was headed. I had butterflies in my stomach as my family piled into the car to drop me off.

My twelve days in the MTC came and gone and before I knew it I was stepping off the airplane. The humidity hit me like a ton of bricks and it was only October.

I soon learned a few things that nobody told me about before my mission. For starters, I was the same person as when I left. I still had the same personality, liked the same foods, and was still scared of the same things.

I learned that you sometimes have to eat twice as much as you want to so you don't offend anyone. I learned that sometimes people slam the door in your face and sometimes people stop texting you or answering your phone calls all together. I learned that sometimes people said mean things to the missionaries, and even worse, sometimes people said mean things about the church that I so dearly loved.

Missionary work is hard.

There are long days. Days that you don't feel like working. Days that you think you'll never get along with your companion.

Over time I started to grow accustom to some of the trials common to missionary work. Days were long, but I got through it. People didn't listen, but every once and a while someone would open their door. Every once and a while we'd find someone to listen.

After a few transfers I found myself serving in a singles ward in central Orlando.

I worked hard, but wasn't seeing the results come from my labors.

I was training a new missionary named Sister Hart and it was during that time that I learned some new things that nobody had told me about a mission.

I learned that faith means believing in miracles. It means daring the soul to go beyond what the eye can see. It means telling yourself that it will all work out even though you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. It sometimes means taking a few steps forward into the dark believing that the motion sensors will recognize your faith and the lights will come on.

I learned that a successful missionary is a happy missionary. I learned that laughter is the best medicine and the best coping mechanism for hard days. I learned that if you can make someone else laugh or simply smile you can work miracles among the children of men. I learned that joy is a principle power. No missionary ever changed the world with a frown on their face.

I learned about friendship. I learned that in order to bring someone the gospel you must first meet their needs. And more often than not friendship is at the top of that list. I made friends with many investigators and members. I also learned that the best friendship you can strengthen as a missionary is the friendship you have with your Father in Heaven. I found myself on my knees more than I ever had before, not for myself, but for my friends who knew not God.

My soul started to ache for them.

I learned that these things, coupled with hard work are all that it takes to be a missionary.

But I was approaching nine months my heart started to yearn for these people. Nobody had yet progressed all the way towards baptism, and my soul ached for them because I knew the happiness they had potential to become, but far too many of them, members included, we're living below their privilege.

I started to wonder why I was on a mission. I loved being a missionary. I loved the members and I loved talking about Christ, but if nobody was progressing why were we wasting our time.

Some time passed and I eventually found myself standing in a baptismal font. I grinned from ear to ear as I stood on the cold tile in the baptismal font. I plugged the drain and stood their as the water started to rise to my ankles.

I watched as Mayra was immersed in the water and I was filled with so much joy. As she climbed out of the baptismal font and we handed her her towel she said with a smile on her face "I'm soakin' wet" with her cute little Puerto Rican accent. My companion and I did a little dance because we couldn't contain ourselves.

We left her to change and some of our friends from the ward came and gave us hugs. I don't know how to describe the feelings I felt that day.

It took nine months, but it was worth it. Nine months of slammed doors. Nine months of un-returned phone calls. Nine months of tear stained cheeks during my nightly prayers. Nine months of investigators not keeping commitments. Nine months of testifying of the only thing that had ever made me truly happy.

And someone had finally accepted it.

It was oh so worth it.

Elaine Cannon, a former Young Women general president, said, “There are two important days in a woman’s life: The day she is born and the day she finds out why.”

That day as I stood on the cold tile in the baptismal font, and plugging the drain so the font could be filled...

I found out why.

I Think That's What Faith Is

Growing up I always loved attending church meetings. They were always uplifting and that was where I could find many of my friends. But it wasn't until I was a missionary that I came to understand just how important these meetings are. It wasn't until one particular zone conference that I realized we can receive revelation and answers to our prayers through the things others share at these meetings.

It was at about my eight month mark as a missionary. I was really enjoying being a missionary and loved sharing my testimony with people. I was training my first missionary, Sister Hart, and she and I got along like peanut butter and chocolate and I was happy. But there was still one thing that felt to me like a fly buzzing around my ear.

I still hadn't baptized anyone.

It bothered me a lot because my whole life I had listened to stories about how if missionaries were obedient they would baptize thousands. Or at least, that's how I interpreted them. Every week we would receive an email of who was having baptisms in the mission and read it as "the list of successful missionaries this week." I longed to have my name on that list.

I had spent many many hours on my knees asking my Heavenly Father why we couldn't find anyone that was prepared. What was I doing wrong? Every night before I prayed I wrote my thoughts in a little prayer journal. The night before zone conference I filled the last page in the journal and felt like that was a final cry to Heavenly Father for help.

Zone conference came around and after car checks we began the meeting with an opening hymn and prayer just as every meeting in the church always begins. Then our Mission President gave some opening remarks and following him one of the Assistants to the President stood up to give the first training of the day.

He described that he came to a point on his mission where he felt like he was trying hard to do what was right, but that things weren't happening. He said, "my mission started to change me, but I didn't see the miracles from my work.

"That's where I am right now" I thought as I began to take notes quickly.

The title for his training was "more hope, more faith" and I listened as he described how he gained more faith as a missionary. And this gave me hope that maybe I could too.

Throughout the next few days I studied faith pretty intently in my studies. What is it? How does it work? How do I get it? Then my companion and I started to put it into practice.

I think the only noticeable change anyone saw in us was that we had a better attitude. Instead of trying to mentally prepare ourselves for things not to work out or for people to reject us we made an effort to speak as if everyone would let us in and keep their commitments.

Overtime we started to believe in miracles and overtime miracles started to happen. And when miracles happened we got excited.

We observed one of our zone leaders and the enthusiasm he has for the work. Every time something good happens (and basically every time we see him) he always works into the conversation an enthusiastic "WHAHOOOOOOOO!" We tried to emulate his example of enthusiasm when good things happened. We also made a greater effort to offer prayers of gratitude to the Lord when we did see miracles.

We worked at this for a little bit. This Sunday we will be baptizing our first convert.

I can't say it was anything I did to make this happen because it was surely all the Lord's doing, but I can say that this experience taught me that miracles do happen. They happen everyday, and if we put forth our effort to believe in them, recognize them, and thank God for them they are more likely to happen.


I think this is what faith is.

Little Angel Jordan

I flipped through my scriptures after church as I did my personal study. My companion was sitting next to me on the couch reading in Ether. As I flipped I noticed a picture I had cut out of an Ensign and stuck in my scriptures earlier in my mission.

I studied the picture a little bit. It was a picture of Christ as he performed the atonement. There was another figure in the picture. An angel, sent to comfort Him in a time of dire need.

I read the verse underlined in red on the page. 

"And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him."

-Luke 22:43

As I thought about it I realized this is the only time we ever hear about this angel. We don't know his or her name, or their story. Only that they were called to comfort Christ.

But as I sat there I started to ponder what this Angels story may be. 

For the sake of this story I decided to refer to this angel as a girl, being a sister missionary myself, but I don't know for sure. I also decided to give her a name. I decided to call her Jordan. As I sat staring at this picture a story started to unfold in my mind and I quickly wrote it down. This story is fiction and I don't claim any of it to be true, but it taught me something. I decided to dedicate it to my trainee, Sister Hart. I hope you can learn something from it too.

Jordan was a new angel. She was small and had only made the decision to be an angel a short time before. Her wings felt uncomfortable and heavy to carry as she was not quite used to them yet, and her robes fit a little too loose because they were a size too big. 

Jordan awoke early in the morning and stretched out her wings. 6:30 am and class started in 20 minutes. She yawned as she grabbed her bag and ran out the door.

She got to the long hallway where the classrooms were. Because Jordan was a new angel she had extra training classes to attend everyday. She was the last angel to sit down so she took the last empty seat in the back of the room. She pulled out her notes and started to write down the steps that were written on the board for creating miracles for the people on earth. 

1. Find someone with a lot of faith
2. Give them a prompting
3. Reward them for acting

The teacher asked for a demonstration. The whole class looked down on earth and one of the more experienced Angels quickly made a miracle happen in South America. After a few minutes several other people in the room had successfully accomplished this task. "I'll never be able to do this" she thought to herself. She struggled to complete the task and the teacher said that anyone who was not able to do it would have to take the assignment home as homework. The bell rang and she left the room to head to her next class.

Her next class was choir. She sat down in the second row and started to talk to the girl next to her. "I've never really been a singer." She whispered. Is it hard? "No" the girl responded, "but I've been training to be in this choir my whole earthly life." She continued, "I started singing when I was young. By high school I was the in my schools choir, and I eventually got my masters in vocal performances and sang with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir." 

The teacher came to the front of the room and explained that all are welcome to join this choir and that nobody will be turned away so they should feel free to come and join bring their friends. And she asked the choir to begin with vocal exercises. Although the teacher had said the class was open to everyone and that you didn't need any past experience, Jordan still felt out of place as she realized that many of the people in the room had been professional singers while on earth and she didn't really know how to read music. As soon as the bell rang she slipped quickly out of the room.

Her next class was called "the ministering of Angels."  Jordan was excited about this class. It was all about comforting others. But as soon as the teacher started talking she put her face into her hands on her desk. Tears started to fill her eyes as she thought about how hard angel work is. "I'll never be able to be an angel" she thought as she remembered watching her angel friends do angel friends fluidly as if second nature to them. 

As she sat their with tears coming to her eyes a voice came over the intercom system. She listened as she heard the voice ask if Jordan could come down to the office to talk with Father.

Panic started to flash through her mind. She must be in trouble. It must mean she's not doing good enough in her angel training. 

She got to Father's office and knocked on the big door feeling smaller than ever before. 

"Come in" she heard from the other side and she opened the door and entered the room and sat in the big white chair.

Father had a smile on His face and welcomed her into the room. He asked her how her training was going and how she felt about being an angel. She said it was going okay but she didn't feel like she was the best angel. 

What He said next surprised her. Father said "Jordan, I want to call you as a comforting angel. And I don't want to call you as just any comforting angel. I want you to be the angel to comfort Christ, my Son when He performs the atonement."

"Me?" she thought. "But I'm not the best angel. I'm new and I don't know as much as the older angels. There must be someone better than me for this calling."

"Jordan" He said. "I want you for this job. You have been given special talents and gifts specifically for this task. I know you can do it."

She sat up a little taller in her chair. Maybe she would be able to do it. A few weeks later she fulfilled the call that she was given to comfort the Savior of the world.

This little angel taught me that we have all been given callings greater than ourselves. Sometimes we might feel inadequate. Sometimes we might look at the tasks that we've been given as something too big for us to accomplish. But our Father in Heaven knows us. He knows what we are capable of. As we do our best to fulfill the call that we've been given to serve others we will find that we are lifted up in the process. 

So to my trainee, Sister Hart, I just want to say that on your mission you may be called to do things that seem too hard. You may feel inadequate at times, but through your faith and diligence I know you will help make great miracles happen.

I love you lots and I am so grateful for this opportunity I've been given to be your trainer.

Love, Sister Reid

Your trainer

 

Disney College Program: Courtney

Like I've said in past posts, I am currently serving in the Buena Vista YSA Ward which is the "Disney World Ward." I asked some of my friends on the college program to share with me some of their missionary and spiritual experiences they had while here on the program. 

This one is a letter I got from a girl named Courtney. Courtney was one of my FAVORITE people to ask to help with missionary work because she is so enthusiastic about it. She loved coming to lessons with us and she even came with us when we set up our booth on the side of the sidewalk by one of the bus stops and pass out pass along cards and pamphlets to people and invite them to church. 

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As a Disney College Program student I was fortunate enough to know some others who had done the program before. Unfortunately though most of them stopped attending church after the first few months of being there. I knew going into this program it would be tough and I would have lots of struggles and up and downs throughout the program. I also knew that I had to go to church to get through it. Growing up in the “Utah Bubble” it was never hard for me to go to church and it was never hard to live my standards because I knew most of the people around me understood or had a small understanding of what I believed. Although coming here put me into deep culture shock! For some people this change brought not attending church and slipping into some bad habits but for me it blossomed my testimony in something far greater than I could imagine while being on this program. 

The first time I met with the Sister Missionaries I cried out all my fears, worries and hardships on them. They simply listened to me and told me that Heavenly Father trusted me and loved me more than I could imagine! That is EXACTLY what I needed to hear and it inspired me to become a better member missionary. Ever since that encounter I knew I had to step out of the “Utah Bubble” comfort zone and share the light of Christ with others. It was one of the scariest times but it was so rewarding to be with the Sisters and Elders out and sharing the gospel! I will never forgot those moments where the Sisters and I would stand outside College Program housing talking to complete strangers trying to share the gospel and a smile with them. Most times it was pretty awkward and uncomfortable but my testimony grew so much those days! 

I am so grateful for all the opportunities I had to share the light of Christ with with others and let them know how much God loves them throughout my program. I learned so much about myself and about the Gospel and I will take that with me throughout my whole life! 

MISS YOU!! 

Courtney Magill - The Best CP! Hahaha!! :)

The Ugly Floral Couch

The other day I knelt down to pray by our old ugly floral couch that has probably been sat on by missionaries since the early nineties. 

I thought for a minute, just how many missionaries have probably sat on this coach in the last maybe twenty years.

A day of missionary work consists of being on your feet, striving to talking to every single stranger you come in contact with. For me it means getting out of my comfort zone. It means sharing the thing I hold the most dear to my heart with complete strangers who may or may not slam their door in your face for offering them the one thing that makes you the happiest. 

Ultimately it means a lot of long days, and a lot of hard work. It sometimes means blisters on your feet and tears on your face. And after a long day of work often the first place a missionary goes is the couch. 

So I thought about those missionaries. How many long days of walking and knocking and teaching came to a close on this ugly floral coach?

And I wondered if others, like me, ever knelt next to this ugly couch to offer up their nightly prayers. How many conversations were had with God about the people they had met, or the trials those missionaries were going through.

I thought again for a second about why we do all of this. Why do we spend our waking hours running from house to house handing out Book of Mormons and small pictures of Jesus? Why do we keep doing it? 

Because we know it's true.

As I thought about it for a minute the ugly floral couch taught me that all of those long days of hard work are worth it, because everyday I get to testify to the world of the one thing that makes me happy.

So I knelt down next to that ugly floral couch and offered a prayer of gratitude that I was here, in central Florida, serving a mission. I thanked my Heavenly Father for the blessings He's given me and for the knowledge I have that my family can be together forever.

I think I remember shedding a tear or two onto that ugly floral couch that night. And I added to the testimony this couch bears that this is a sacred work that we have been called to do.

I'll never look at that ugly floral couch the same way again, because to me it means we have the truth, and we are going to tell the world about it. One day long at a time.

Sister Whitney Reid

Florida Orlando Mission