Korean War Paint

September 17, 2012

Hello, Family!

It’s cool to hear that Elder Bednar came to CO this week. Dad, when you met him, did you tell him that he made your daughter cry for hours after she met him? And that she was so scared of him that she took down the picture of the Twelve from the wall so he wouldn’t be looking at her all the time? I’m officially terrified of that man. And he seems to be following me. At zone conference this week, we watched a few video clips of him teaching, and then at stake conference on Sunday, instead of prelude music, they had more videos of him playing on the projectors. He’s great man. I just might have to make sure my eyes are shut when he speaks at General Conference.

This week was a week of ups and downs. It was a particularly rejection-filled. I felt horrible and guilty all week because the thought of knocking on one more door was about enough to make me burst into tears. I was (am) afraid that I’ve used up all of my courage and faith and wouldn’t (don’t) have enough to last me the rest of my mission. Almost all of our appointments fell through. We felt like Abinadis. I was about ready to burn myself at the stake, just to hurry up the inevitable.

Then Wednesday, I rear-ended a Vietnamese lady. 9 months of hazardous Garden Grove driving and I get out fine. Then I come to Anaheim and find the one Vietnamese person and decide to hit her. The damage was super minor, but being foreign she was super freaked out and called the police. The officer was able to help her and she calmed down a bit. Ever since I left GG, I carry around at least a couple of Vietnamese pass-along cards so I gave her one. Who knows? Maybe she’ll get baptized. Maybe the heavens made me a bad driver to fulfill divine purposes.

We went to the office afterwards to do some things and that’s when I lost it. Some of the senior office sisters started talking to me, and I started to cry. One of them told me that her husband, the vehicle coordinator, had recently made a new rule that anyone who hits a stationary object has to park their car at the mission office for a week and walk. Which just filled me with more guilt, shame, and stress. Hna. B has some back problems and walking very far or standing up for very long causes her some pretty bad pain. And I would lose my driving privileges and be red-dotted. Not to mention the fact that I already felt that our area was falling apart, and so only being able to go to places within walking distance and not being able to visit our investigators (um, investigator) made me want to have my head fall off and bounce into the street where small Mexican children could play soccer with it.

Then Thursday was zone conference. We spent the morning painting fences in Yorba Linda as a service project (it was supposed to be in some newspaper, I think the OC Register, so look it up and see if they published it) and I spent most of the time trying to avoid eye contact with President because I was so ashamed that I was one of those dumb missionaries that runs into things. But then the actual conference was awesome. It was so great. It was so simple and powerful and I heard and learned so many things I needed to hear and learn.

Friday, we went to the office to fill out some paperwork, and the car elder told me that I was still green-dotted and everything was good because the damage had been so minor. So, we don’t lose our car! And I can drive! And Hna. B won’t die! And we can see our people (person)! I was so happy. Someone in the Heavens was being much kinder to me than I deserved.

Sunday was stake conference. G came, even though it took him over an hour to find the chapel! Hno C spoke and made me cry (kind of a theme for this week). Afterwards, I went up to him and said, “You jerk. You made me cry.” Then he said “It’s because you loooooove me.” (Sidenote: The C’s have this mini piano/organ that they want to give me. Hna B was telling me the other day that last transfer, all the Garden Grove missionaries went over to the C’s to eat and one of the elders went to go play the piano. Hno C said, “You’re not allowed to play that. That’s Hna. Poulson’s.” It made me laugh.)

Then yesterday, we were able to get a few miracle lessons which was great because we found a couple of new people, and because it almost doubled our number of lessons this week (I know, I know. Numbers aren’t important. But weekly call-ins are much less painful when your numbers are much less pitiful).

Well, now that I have just spent 8 paragraphs proving to you all that I cry like a small child and have the fragile ego of a middle-schooler, I will share with you the funniest thing that happened this week.

(While painting fences)

Elder K: President, you have some paint on your forehead.

President: It’s war paint. Where’s yours?

Elder K: We don’t have war paint in Korea.

President: That’s why you’ve lost all those wars.

I hope someone still has a bit of respect left for me after reading this. I love you and I’ll see you later!

Hna Poulson

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