Say Goodbye to Garden Grove/ Say Goodbye My Baby…

May 29, 2012

(As in Billy Joel’s “Say Goodbye to Hollywood”. But I don’t need to say goodbye to Hollywood. Because I’ll never see it on my mission).

Transfers were this week! And I’m going to…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

….Garden Grove! (Did you peek?) Yes, going on 8 months. Still with Hna Barlow in the same area and I am thrilled. When we got transfer calls, the DL did his joke one, you know, where he tells you something ridiculous before he tells you the truth, and told me I was going to Santa Ana 5, where I have been joking with President that I will get transferred to even though it’s the part of the mission they wouldn’t ever let sisters anywhere near. Ha-ha, good joke, district leader. Then he told me I was going to Newport. English.

We knew that one of the Spanish sisters was going to have to go to English, so I believed him. And Newport and Yorba Linda are the places in the mission that everyone jokes about not wanting to serve in. So, that was horrible. I was trying not to tear up. Then he called back 5 minutes later and told us the truth. I could have slugged him. But that is unbecoming of a missionary, so I didn’t. Also, he was on the phone.

So, this week by the numbers:

38 – The number of emergency kits Hna B and I made for Sister Bowen this week. Apparently, CA is on schedule for another earthquake, so we’re getting on the ball.

2 – The number of songs that were sung to me in the library last Monday. A man, seeing that I was, as he said, “a woman of God”, sung the scripture “Who can find a virtuous woman…” to me in Aramaic (at least that’s what he said it was) and then a Jewish Sabbath song in Hebrew. So, that was…fun. Also, the number of buckets of KFC one of the less-active gave us this week. He always feeds us SO MUCH and wants us to stay there for hours eating, no matter how much we tell him we can’t. So, we’ve decided we can’t ever tell him when we’re coming so he won’t have time to go buy food. Hope it works.

6 – The number of transfers I will be in Garden Grove (unless, Heaven willing, I stay longer after this). That’s at least 8 months. I am Seriously So Blessed.

3 – The number of people we dropped this week: 1 because she has had excuses of why we can’t come for the last 4 weeks, 1 because he only wanted to talk to us about what we were looking for in a husband after the mission (and if he qualified), and 1 because he’s been hiding every time we come to see him. There goes that timeshare in Peten. (Just kidding. I am concerned about his salvation).

4 – The gallons of posole the F family made for us this week (that’s my approximation). Really good. But, Kelly, yours is better. Don’t tell.

5 to 7 – The percent of his income G is willing to pay to start out with tithing. He says he’ll have to work up to 10%. Too bad his wife wants to pay all of it. Sorry, G.

10,000 – The number of times G interrupted us during that lesson. He’s really funny. He’s a character, as Grandpa would say. But he’s kind of intimidating and hard to teach. We love them.

0 – the number of times I want to drink mate again in my life. Just kidding, I am willing to try it again. Hna B and I made it this week and it tasted like manure. So we doused it with sugar. Then it tasted like sugary manure. Daniel, how long did it take you to acquire this taste?

12,000 – The number of elotes consumed this weekend. By 1,200 people. Elotes are those mayonnaise-cheese-chile covered corn on the cobs, as in Nacho Libre “Get that CORN out of my face!”. The stake has an Elotada every Memorial day. Since we didn’t have transfers, we did laundry and then pretty much spent the rest of the day there, talking to members, sitting in the sun, and eating carne asada (and trying to hide from the people trying to stuff more elotes down our throats). It was an awesome day. But, I got really burned. I even wore sunscreen, I promise, Mom.

So, this week was good. It was also really hard. If you want to see how far you can be pushed, go on a mission. There are days you feel like a stretched rubber band, and you’ll snap if you get stretched any more. You’ve done all you can and can’t possibly do any more. But then the Lord makes you stretch, and low and behold, you see that you could do it after all, but only with His help. It’s a painful, painful lesson to learn, but very worth it. It’s an amazing thing to be worth the Lord’s time and effort in refining you. Unfortunately, I think I need a lot more refining than the average Joe.

I love you all so much. Thanks for your support. Your emails are so helpful. Sometimes they make me cry. You thought I was a crybaby before the mission? Ha, meet me now. It’s disgusting.

Con amor,

Jesslyn Ann

 

 

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s