Tuesday, October 17, 2017

1 1/2 Year Later . . .

Hi! Thanks for reading. I'm honored!
I've started a new blog, hopefully in the same spirit of this one that I love so much. You can find it here: 
genkigold.blogspot.com
Check it out!

Monday, May 9, 2016

The Last E-Mail

My time is coming! I still have four days after this email but of
course the reality of going home is hitting me because I have shipped
nearly all my clothes and I'm only left with a carry on until I arrive
in the Americas.

As I prepare to come home I wonder if I've changed at all and if any
of you back home will recognize that change. I know one person who
will not be surprised: my mom.

I heard once that missionaries don't change at all, but they revert to
the kind of person they were when they were young and undiluted. I've
believed it ever since I heard it.

For me, I have to reach pretty far back to get to my undiluted state.
For me by the time I was twelve I was already miserable for some
reason and I thought I was fat when I was eight so let's go way back.

Apparently when I was a toddler I would reach out to strangers in the
super market. Now, as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints, there's nothing more I love than talking to
strangers. I believe now that it is possible to love strangers and
life is more fun when you open up your heart to everyone, while it can
also be painful.

At the age of 22 months if I didn't like someone I pushed them away.
So maybe I don't push people I don't like away but I've earned really
fast reflexes when it comes to avoiding hugs because I've had to avoid
hugs from half of the world's population for a year and a half. I also
now know how to push away temptations and poisonous habits. If I don't
like something, I'm going to push it away. Even if I don't like the
smell of it, I'm going to push it away.

When I was too young to have a real good image of God, I imagined Him
as a T-Rex. In the back of my little mind, I knew that this T-Rex was
with me always. He roared in the face of my 1st grade enemies and
trailed behind the bus on the way to and from school. I loved Him and
knew He was always with me. As time went on and I knew God as a Man of
flesh and bones, I thought I didn't have the same communication
channel with Him as I did when He was a Dinosaur. When He was a T-Rex,
He knew I was sad or mad in the exact moment. I could just think about
how lonely I felt and He would be there. But now, as a Man, I thought
I had to pray to Him to commune with Him. At the end of my mission
I've realized that I can pray while teaching a lesson, I can pray
while my companion approaches a stranger. I am in communication with
my God nearly every waking moment and it's awesome

Let's face it folks sin makes you stupid and despite being a smart
little girl as I grew up and my sins got serious I got stupider. Not
to say I don't sin now, OF COURSE I do but I don't sin in the same
ways I used to and that makes me smart like I used to be. S/O to the
love of my life of a member in the Ward I'm serving in right now for
teaching me that.

Really, when it comes down to it, the way you were raised makes you a
great missionary. I have seen so many missionaries revert to the
children they were and sometimes it wasn't pretty. All the
compliments, acclaim, and praise I receive could easily be directly
forwarded to my mom because I am who I am because of her.

Happy Mother's Day! I love you! I'll see you super soon,

Sister Goldsberry

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Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Rock of My Salvation

One of the biggest miracles of my life happened this week. It involves
retell in a story I've already told, but it's worth it.

When I was in my second transfer, a woman named Y. called
us and demanded to meet immediately. In that moment it was dumping
rain and as a fresh missionary I did not want to go out to meet her.
But we went and stood outside a convenience store that she designated
and slowly got drenched. My fingers were beginning to wrinkle when a
twenty something with hair down to her waist approached us.

Why did she want to meet so badly, so suddenly?
All she wanted to do was prepare for the Second Coming of Christ.
Y. became a good friend and listened up to the second discussion. At
the end of our last lesson (at the time I didn't know it would be our
last) I led the way to our church by bike. Finally FINALLY we had
earned her trust enough that we didn't have to meet in broad daylight
in the middle of some public square to talk to her. When we arrived at
get church the outright friendliness of the members and sheer spirit
was enough to back her into a wall.
"I feel so good!" She kept telling me over and over again.

Well transfers happened and when a person is as deathly shy as Y.
new people are game changers. My new companion scared her off. Soon
after that I transferred and I thought Y's chance for baptism were
hopeless. I kept up with the list of friends getting baptized all over
the mission and never saw Y's name pop up. I prayed like mad but
once the companion I had in that area returned to America I thought the
chances were slim. When sisters were removed entirely from that area I
lost all hope.

But then, of all the areas in the mission, of all the Mormons across
the world, of all the last names in the whole universe, an Elder named
Elder Goldsberry gets called to the Japan Tokyo Mission and is sent to
this area. His third transfer in, he gets a phone call from this very same
Y. Who knows how she got the number of the elders but who cares
because she asked if there was someone named "Goldsberry" and the
person on the other line was able to say yes. I know Y, and I know
she's strange. She is so painfully shy, it literally paralyzes her.
She's so eccentric, it's an obstacle. I know for a fact that if any
other elder had been on the other line she would have simply hung up.
That would have been the end of her progress in the gospel. Maybe
after another year she would have worked up the nerve to call again
but after another year. She agreed to meet with the elders, solely
because this elder's name was Goldsberry. She was really confused when
two young men showed up instead of a loud Latina and to this day she
thinks this elder is my brother, but what a break through!

I don't know anything about this elder, but If this Elder Goldsberry
were to go on to never serve in any other area but my second area, if he was
never let in another home, if he never saw another baptism, (don't
worry, many major successes will indeed come, I'm writing
theoretically) even if he went home tomorrow I will always believe he
is the most accomplished missionary in all of Japan. God used him to
bring Y back. God had planned this all along, knew that Elder
Goldsberry had to be next to that phone that day. When I first met
Y this kid was still in high school. Even though he had no idea he
would end up in Japan, Tokyo, God knew, and found him worthy to be the
channel of salvation for my friend Y a year down the road. Elder
Goldsberry saw with his own eyes the Book of Mormon I gave Y all
that time ago and saw all the marks she had made in it. I'm sure she's
read the whole thing through. Maybe more than once. I know when he met
Y he felt a special spirit just like I did when I met with her.
Maybe it was the only miracle he saw that day or that week or that
transfer, but it's the miracle of my lifetime.

To me it's proof that God cares for and watches over His children. He
doesn't just give us one chance, but thousands. There are no strikes,
no cancellations, no last tries. God loves Y and wants her to be
baptized just as bad as I do, if not more. He has a vision of her in a
white dress, spending quality time with Him in the celestial room of a
temple. He knows her and loves her.

God took three transfers of my mission I've always looked back on with
regret and turned them on their heads. A lot of the success that I had
in my second area wasn't seen by me. God treasures each mission, each area, each
missionary, and each day served.

My number one fear after I finish my mission is comparison. Heaven
forbid I hear others' mission stories and begin to compare it to my
own mission and feel bad. I pray for a kind of confidence that isn't
shattered by anything someone could say. My favorite hymn lately has
become Rock of Ages:
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save from wrath and make me pure.

Not the labors of my hands
Can fill all thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and thou alone.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eyes shall close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown
And behold thee on thy throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee.

My mission is only awesome because God made it that way. Even if I
gave it all I've got, spoke the language perfectly, and talked to
every single person in my area, if God's not in my mission that's a
pretty stinky mission.

Missions are more than preaching. Conversion is so much more than convincing.
A member yesterday shared with me at church this research project done
on missionaries. Nearly everyone could do things like teach correct
doctrine and recite the discussions, but those things didn't
necessarily bring conversion. Not many missionaries however could
teach by the Spirit and teach with love and determine needs and those
were the kinds of things that brought conversion. Those are all gifts
from God. Only God can accept my mission and only Christ can hide all
my short comings and mistakes made on my mission. Christ is who makes
me a successful missionary. I couldn't make myself a successful
missionary if I tried with all my might.

I love you all! Every missionary that includes God in the work is AMAZING!

See you soon,
Sister Goldsbery

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Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Final Area

Hey family! Would you like to hear about the family that will be
sending me back to America?

Here are the missionaries I'm serving with in my final area.
Remember, I'm over two wards so there's ten of us now. Buckle in.

Sister C.
She's from Winnipeg Canada and speaks really good French! She's
teaching me some. I'm working so I can come home and say I have the
First Vision memorized in five languages. But French is hard! And
French people here aren't super nice so I don't have a ton of
motivation to learn. We mainly use French for teaching members and
investigators from the Congo. Isn't that so crazy? Sister C.
studied French at BYU, was probably pretty disappointed to get a call
to Japan and now she teaches Africans in French. She's much more than
her French ability however, she brings the strongest spirit I've ever
felt with her quiet nature. She's like a river. This river will always
flow, Sister C. will always be genuine. Every reaction, every
facial expression, every word out of her mouth is true to her
character. She never ever fakes it. When we went to church for the
first time together in the Japanese Ward, everyone adored her, ate her
up. At the first glance, a recent convert exclaimed: "You're glowing!"
All these people approached me and whispered glowing remarks about her
to me. My favorite was: "You just look at her face, and know
immediately that she's a good person." I think  that sums up Sister
C: Integrity so powerful it glows from her face.

Sister P.
She's a bishop's daughter back home in Sandy, Utah. Apparently that
aspect shows through her personality because people ask her all the
time if she's the bishop's daughter. I don't know what that means, and
was thoroughly confused as to how members could tell that her dad is a
bishop and my dad is not. It still puzzles me to this day. She's the
type who calls her father "daddy" and her mother by her first name.
She gasps like she's dying when she receives revelation during study and laughs until the walls
shake the rest of the day. I've never seen her cry, only a small fit
over cheese crust when we were ordering pizza once. It is so
incredibly endearing how she never takes herself seriously and can
laugh through any mistake, awkward moment, or silence. Sister P.
is Sister P. and if someone were to look her in the eye and say "I
don't like you" she would shrug and continue on, laughing and dancing
down the road, whereas that would crush me. She has defied gravity,
sleighed every obstacle, rejected all negativity and stands today as
an immovable missionary.

Elder F.
Good news family we had a missionary devotional where all the
missionaries went around and introduced themselves, so now I know a
lot about the elders in a completely kosher way. Elder F. is a
pilot! Yeah already. He's from Georgia so he says "y'all" but other
than that he has no accent at all, I thought he was a Utah boy. He's
very very sweet, always putting himself last. He brings snacks to
meetings, too which is a first. He's hasn't been serving here very
long, but he's baptized two people and I believe it was because he
loved them into the gospel.

Elder B.
He is only shy if you have bad hearing. He mutters the snarkiest
comments under his breath, calls everyone out, and makes jokes
constantly. And he does it all with a smile, always smiling. Smiles
through story telling, through rejections and testimony telling and
hymn singing. He can make a pretty good impression of a chimpanzee and
Dobie from Harry Potter but refuses to make such obnoxious noises
around us sisters. He must have a talented voice because he sings
really well and if he can make impressions too I think it's a gift.

Elder C.
Elder C. was with me in the MTC. He's from Taiwan. At the beginning,
his English wasn't great, but everyone could feel the love he had for
them. He is super affectionate, always got his arm around his
companion or leaning on another elder. He's always the elder to greet
us sisters and give each one of us a handshake. Since the MTC his
English has improved a ton. Too much. As we ate dessert together once,
he told me I ate too much. We're still friends, but I am aware of how
brutally honest he is, and I tread carefully now.

Elder R.
Elder R. is actually from this Ward. Tokyo 1st is his home Ward.
He's half Japanese, but to me all-American. He was one of those boys
that it took a whole village to raise so it's really cool that he gets
to give back to the village who raised him. He teaches old friends
from high school. He already knows his way around. He's not that old
of a missionary, but because he's so familiar with everything, he has
the swagger of a sixteen transfer missionary.

Elder M.
He is so tall. He was talking to some male models on the street once
and he was just as tall as they were! He's an Idaho boy. We report all
of our days to him and he's so great he shrieks into the phone when we
tell him cool miracles. He genuinely cheers us on.

Elder M,
He was always with me at the MTC. I've written about him already, he
still helps with my Japanese, he still is a monster at every sport he
plays, he's still the greatest.

Elder L.
I got to know him better. He's hilarious. He is always making a face.
Even when he's not thinking of anything in particular, he's making a
face. He can express himself way well, never lets anything go unsaid,
but says it all under his breath so it's easy to breeze by and never
really truly know him. But I'm lucky cause I hear him and just laugh
all day long.

Elder S.
Reminds me of Billy so much. He is really into all things Disney, he
is more willing to talk to strangers, unlike Billy, but I think that's
because he's a missionary more than his personality. He's so so so
happy all the time. The thought that he could have offended the
smallest being is enough to make him beg for forgiveness. When he
removes his glasses, he reverts to a baby face.

THESE ARE THE GREAT MISSIONARIES OF SHIBUYA AND TOKYO. They are
perfectly trying. It's a great group to finish on. They encourage me
to push on and continue on, and forget about how much time I have left
but give it my all.

"Let the seed be sown, even though the sower be straightway called to
other fields or other duties; in the gladsome harvest he shall find
his recompense."

Love you all! See you soon,

Sister Goldsberry

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This is a video at the Buddhist Temple, but it can only be watched from the computer, not a mobile device.




Monday, April 18, 2016

Missions are Like a Box of Chocolates‏

What a humbling few weeks it has been lately. I don't even know where to start.
Okay I guess I'll start with my current companion.
I still don't know where to start.
Remember how I wrote that I could always count on Sister K. to
make any situation hilariously awkward? Sister P. is on a whole
different level.
I thought I was pretty embarrassed by my mom when I was thirteen. I
thought there couldn't be anyone less tactful than my fifteen-year-old
brother. Sister P. has broken all boundaries, gone against the
grain with a force that rips the skin off. My whole body has gone cold
and my cheeks have been set on fire. My jaw is sore from clenching it
when I want to laugh. I have winced so often my shoulders and neck are
permanently sore.
Maybe examples will help? Have you ever watched a romantic movie with
your mom? She giggles and pokes you and you feel like the humiliation
might choke you until you die. This week we watched a romantic musical
written by Elton John, the one the only Aida. One of our Ward members
was the lead and two of our investigators attended with us. Sister
P. did not just giggle, she flat out snorted and grabbed at me
during moments of complete silence. I died a eight times over. I died
a slow, painful, horrendous death. Oh, others laughed, but they
laughed at us. They laughed at Sister P. because she has no
whispering capability, and they laughed at me because I was burying my
head into my own lap.
She asked an eighteen-year-old English student if he likes girls.
She's tone deaf but sings anyway.
These are little discrepancies. But they are magnified when the name
of Jesus Christ is written on your chest. I just want to be taken
seriously, to be understood and respected. It's hard to receive it
when your companion is dishing out bad pick up lines, laughing at
chopsticks rolling on the ground, and talking loud enough for the
whole apartment building to hear. I was just horrified by the thought
that all of Japan would think Latter-day Saint Missionaries are too
young, naive, and shallow. Heaven forbid they think we're flirtatious
when my companion is laughing at everything someone says.
I was being dramatic.
I realize that missions are like a box of chocolates.
Hang with me.
The number one thing I've realized on my mission is how insanely
blessed I am. I've met some people who have some decently terrible
lives. Who are currently suffering. Despite their best effort, their
lives just might always be tough. I realized how much better I have it
than a large percentage of the world.
At first this depressed me because I thought it would only bring me
jealous girls and thieving creeps and I would never be able to relate
to those truly suffering. After a couple transfers of moping I
realized something. God was blessing others by blessing me.
Sounds so shallow but hang in there reader!
Read this from D&C 84:76
"But, verily I say unto all those to whom the kingdom has been
given--from you it must be preached unto them"
Imagine you're a parent of two children. You give one child two
candies. Deep down, you're hoping your kid gives the extra chocolate
to his brother, right? What a great lesson to teach all involved. You
could just give each kid their own chocolate, but you know they would
both eat it immediately, devour it faster than they could dream about
how much they want it, and both kids walk away, never thinking about
the two chocolates again. But if you give one kid the chance to wait
and develop that desire for the candy, and you give the other the
chance to serve his brother, they both learn and are edified. What if
your kid gave both candies to his brother? That would be enough to
write a million blogs about how Christlike this kid is.
Missions are like that. As missionaries, we generally have it better
than the people we teach. If not financially or physically,
spiritually we do. We take those blessings and spread them as thin as
we can, trying to reach as many people in our circle as possible. We
give away all our chocolates. God gave us the kingdom and has assigned
us to pass it along.
I have coached sports teams, tutored students practicing their public
communication skills, and taught piano. I have learned a whole
different language just to be able to give my testimony to as many
people as possible. I have put my whole strength and soul into bike
rides, just so I can give someone my smile. I have paid every
compliment my brain could think up, hugged friends with all the arm
strength I've got in my puny arms, spent the very last second of my
day praying for the people I've met.
Sometimes I can't give the best, and I can only give what I have. Cue
a story my trainer read me from the Liahona:
"As an elementary school teacher of more than 25 years, I have
received a lot of interesting things from my young students. Silly
notes, drawn pictures, and imaginative crafts are common gifts. Last
year, however, was the first time I had ever received a potato.
“A potato for the teacher,” young Emma said proudly when she came to
my desk, “because I didn’t have an apple.” It was a medium-sized
potato, scrubbed clean, and beautiful as far as potatoes go. I thanked
her and placed it on my desk. I saw Emma’s large blue eyes shine with
pride whenever she looked at it throughout the day.
After school, when I was working at my desk, I couldn’t help but
regard the potato with a tender smile. Children see things so simply,
and with that common potato, Emma taught me something important. I
left it on my desk for over a week because it served as a reminder to
me.
As a visiting teacher and a sister in my ward, I wanted to serve
others, but I was always waiting for an “apple” before I took time to
help. If I was busy and couldn’t make an extra casserole or if I
wanted to give a special flower but didn’t get to the floral shop, I
ignored the still, small voice of the Spirit whispering of someone who
needed my service.
“I’ll do something this weekend, when I have time,” I would convince
myself. “Nobody needs me today.”
But what if someone really did need me? What if I hadn’t ignored the
promptings to visit an elderly neighbor or the young widow who had
just lost her husband? Could I have helped or served, even with what I
could offer then--a “potato”?
I learned a great lesson from Emma that I am trying hard to put into
practice. If I don’t have an apple, I give a potato instead, and I do
it now. I don’t wait to make a casserole or my special lemon cream
pie; I buy a box of cookies instead. I don’t often get to the florist,
but I can drop in for a chat without the flower. A homemade card would
be great, but so would a quick phone call. It doesn’t have to be a
grand gesture of service every time. A small gesture of love is just
as nice.
I have the potato at home now, but I don’t think I’ll ever eat it. It
serves as a constant reminder to serve when I’m prompted. I give what
I can now instead of waiting until later. A potato for the teacher
really was the nicest gift." January 2015
I can't deliver this perfect message in perfect Japanese, Portuguese,
Spanish, or even English for that matter. My experience as a
twenty-year-old gets me nowhere. I know very few, close to no one, in
the grand scheme of the universe. I don't have much money and I'm not
allowed to give it away anyways. While I might think I'm giving away
my most precious chocolate, I am only passing out potatoes.
So who cares if Sister P. makes an ethnic joke? What does it
matter if she laughs the whole day through? We are lower than the dust
of the earth. Take pity on us world, and take our humble potato.
Love you, see you soon,
Sister Goldsberry

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Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Why I Stayed Longer on my Mission

Too many miracles are happening in this my final transfer that just
leave me thinking:
"Man! I'm glad I'm still here!"
When I was in the MTC, I met an Elder named W. He's half American, half Japansese
so he was a huge help in my endeavor to study the language. I asked him
questions all the time. He always told me: "Pray you get called to
Shibuya Ward so that you can meet my family!"
Over a year later I forget the name of the Ward his family lived in
and even his last name. I hadn't thought about him at all until
unknowingly, I was at his house and his mom showed us a picture of
him. It was a beautiful, full circle miracle. The miracle doesn't end
there because we take a picture and send it to him in the Fukuoka
mission and he remembers me too! About a week after that he sends his
mom a letter for me to give to his girlfriend before he left on his
own mission. She's a medical student, and insanely busy, but who does
he trust with this precious referral? Twelfth transfer Sister
Goldsberry. What an honor. He wrote me instructions on where to study
in Preach My Gospel to prepare to meet her. He suggested I remind her
how funny he is, "or something like that." The best missionaries in
the mission have served in this Ward but if I hadn't stuck it out
until my twelfth transfer Elder West might not have felt comfortable
to give out this referral. I'M SO GLAD I STAYED.
Our friend D. was having a really hard time. Her visa to stay in
America was denied. We've only met her three times, but being the self
reliant person that she is, she turned to the Book of Mormon for
comfort. She prayed, read in Helaman 12, and came to realize that
perhaps it wasn't God's will that she go to America, but that she stay
in Japan so she can be baptized on May 1st. That's a huge miracle in
itself. She shouted our individual names into the phone and said: "I
LOVE YOU!" and right then I was glad I stayed so I could hear D.
tell her she loved me.
There have been so many ailments, so many twisted mentalities that
I've been healed from on my mission. A lot of the people I had to
forgive, a lot of the habits I had to develop, a lot of the revelation
I had to receive didn't come to me until my twelfth transfer. For that
I am eternally grateful.
Also, this week my two companions defined me as "dignified" and
"suave." Missions really do change people.
Love you!
See you soon,
Sister Goldsberry

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Monday, April 4, 2016

Every Prayer

This week God answered every single one of my prayers. This was how
our week went down.
1. Guide us so we can meet Leo, and bless us with the courage to teach
him the gospel
A member from this English Ward gave us a tip that Leonardo DiCaprio
was in town. In town, as in in the neighboring city to the church that
is off limits to missionaries after 6:00 PM. But the possibility of
walking down the same sidewalk as a celebrity drove us insane. We
gossiped all throughout the week, joking about fasting over the chance
of meeting him. But this week those words actually escaped the mouth
of a sister missionary as we were doing a group prayer. We giggled,
shouted the most faithful "AMEN!" of our lives, and headed out the
door.
That day we actually had a tour of Tokyo planned. We were going to
walk around under the guidance of a man who spoke decent English with
a bunch of other foreigners living in Japan. It was in the morning,
and still very cold. When we arrived, there were friends of ours there
too. One friend, a particularly crazy grandmother ran up to me, nearly
yelling: "It's so cold! Feel my hands!"
Now a gift I've been bestowed by God is warm hands. No matter what, my
hands are warmer than the general public. So this crazy grandma
realizes this and is grabbing at my hands in such a frenzy that she
captures the attention of a couple standing nearby. She urges them to
feel my hands as if it's some life changing experience and I'm just
shrugging my shoulders telling this girl around my age "Go for it."
She touches my hands and awes in such a way that her boyfriend walks
over too and says "May I?" He doesn't wait for a response and suddenly
I'm holding hands with a member of the opposite sex for the first time
in a year.
It was actually a great ice breaker and we kept right on talking as
they held my hands. Turns out they're both from China, met there,
moved out here together for school. They were both looking for a
church! Of course they ate up everything we had to say about being
Christian missionaries and we exchanged information with them and
invited them to church. They came the very next day. Right before I
introduced this adorable couple to my companions, I asked him: "By the
way, what's your name?"
"My Chinese name is pretty hard, so you can call me Leo."
...I met Leo. He held my hand. God answered my prayer. We're going to
baptize Leo.
2. Please answer Y's Prayer
My best friend in the whole of Japan is getting baptized on April 16th
but she still doesn't know about Joseph Smith. This week she had a
dream she was in the sacred grove with Joseph and felt happier and
more peaceful than ever. Y. is just so humble! God trusts her so
much He tells her like everything by dreams.
3. Bless D that she can sleep well tonight
We're teaching another friend who came to church for the first time
last week on her own just because two of her Mormon coworkers didn't
drink any alcohol at a business party. That takes some faith. As we
were teaching her the Restoration she let us know that she has
insomnia. It's a problem that bleeds onto all her other problems and
makes them a whole lot messier. She accepted the message pretty
readily, but was too shy to pray at the end. I said the above prayer.
It seemed like the end of an ordinary lesson.
The next day she messaged us on Facebook and told us she felt amazing.
She had slept cradling the Book of Mormon in her arms. She slept
peacefully all night! She was ecstatic to meet again, so she came to
the General Women's session of Conference. There, she told us she
believed Joseph Smith had seen God and Jesus Christ, and that she
would start taking work off on Sunday's, and that she would be ready
to be baptized in May. Lots of prayers answered, but the fact that
she slept well this week was an answer to them all.
4. Tell me why I'm out here
Again at the General Women's session of Conference, we were waiting
for another friend who never answered our calls. She was a long time
investigator of my third companion and she became really concerned
about this friend. The conference had already started but Sister
Crellin wanted to go outside and look for her. So we did. We just took
off running to that nearest station, didn't even slow down to pick up
our coats. So I'm out in the dark cold standing around wishing I was
listening to conference when this friend texts an apology and says she
won't be able to make it.
Well at this point I was pretty mad. Not necessarily at any particular
person but I was just upset at the circumstances. I prayed to God,
almost sarcastically, "Why am I out here?"
My companions were far more upbeat than I, as we marched back to catch
the last twenty minutes of conference. As we were about to enter the
church, a girl about our age caught all of our attention.
Instinctively, we stretched our neck so to look at her, and then one
of my companions just said: "Let's talk to her!" We had been talking
to people all our way up to the church, experiencing about ten
straight rejections. But as soon as we talked to A, we knew she was
going to be so different.
She is half Japanese, half American. She believes she is a Christian
like her mom, but the tarnished reputation that Christians have have
made her too shy to say it out loud. When we said we taught people
more about Christ, she asked if she had to pay. When we said "Mormon"
she said her mom loves Mormons. When we asked her if she knew if
anyone else was interested she said she did, and suggested that we all
five meet on a weekly basis. Obviously someone of this caliber was
enough reason to be missing conference. We only saw the last ten
minutes, but A. was worth it. We got to tell all the sisters the
miracle afterwards.
I don't do missionary work. I watch it happen.
That was my week! God hears every prayer and will answer it, but maybe
not in the way you expect it!
Love you,
See you soon,
Sister Goldsberry


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Found this cute girl playing her guitar in the park and sang along with her.