Some Notes on Post-Partum Life, Part 2

This week M-Dubb turns 7 months. It's not one of those "time flies" things. We've just gotten here. Sometimes in the midst of the craziness that is this semester I wish time flew faster, but that's fodder for another post. Today I want to talk about nursing, but before I start, let me acknowledge that I know everyone is different--not everyone produces enough milk, for instance. With that in mind, here's my side of the story:

I love nursing,  I didn't always love nursing, but M-Dubb and I have trodden a rough road and gotten to a place that works for us. This week, I realized just how much I have grown to enjoy the moments I share with my baby because I didn't have quite enough milk. I was already late to go meet Jeff on campus and M-Dubb would not be satisfied. I decided to whip up some formula or else risk being late and unprepared for my 1 pm class. My tears welled as he gulped. He ended up only drinking an ounce, and I haven't had to supplement since, but during the feeding, I was reeling. I'm not ready to wean him! I had suspected as much when I'd considered it a few times over the past few weeks, but it wasn't until this moment that I realized exactly how much I'd grown to love it.

What a far cry from where we started. He had come out of the womb sucking like a champ. He wanted to nurse, and he knew what he needed to do. The problem was he did it so well. I never bled or cracked, but there was blistering and, oh, so much bruising. I cried, yelped, and stomped my foot in pain every time he latched. I only kept going because I was convinced by others' conviction that the breast was best. At two weeks, I called my mom sobbing that I just couldn't do it anymore. She convinced me that it was ok to quit, and my lactation peer-counselor said the same thing. Everyone has to do what it right for them. But, I didn't want to feel like a quitter. I had enough milk and I wanted him to have it. Ok, and in all honesty, I didn't want to pay for formula, and I wanted the help in weight loss. So, my decision to try one more time wasn't perfectly selfless.

I have to say that I've felt God's love and help in my role as a mother, especially those first few weeks. What happened after my tearful decision was next to a miracle. I hadn't ever taken off my Fred Meyer nursing bra since the hospital (I was trying to avoid the sagginess, but now I know that was inevitable...). After prayer, meditation, and talking it out, I had the thought come to me, "Take off your nursing bra." I'm not saying this will help everyone who's having trouble nursing, but it sure helped me. I felt an immediate difference. It still stung, but the excruciating pain subsided. I called my mom elated. I'd done it! It wasn't all perfection from then on, but it gave me enough hope to keep trying. It was still a long road until 2 months, when it didn't hurt anymore, but it ended up being worth it for me.

I have a certain brother who doesn't understand women who don't get pain medication during labor. I'll probably get this wrong, but I believe his response is along the lines of, "What do you want, a gold star?" When I gave birth without pain medication, I did give myself a mighty pat on the back, but that was all I really expected. But, in the midst of the darkest part of learning how to nurse, I sure felt like what I was doing was harder than my "natural" childbirth. Day in and day out I chose pain, and when I crossed the finish line of the ordeal with a great Hallelujah!, I sure felt like a deserved a gold star and a trophy.

So for all of you out there who kept nursing (especially those of you who had to pump), here's your gold star. Here's your public shout-out, praise, and awards ceremony. You did it. You are amazing. And I admire you.

Some Notes on Post-Partum Life, Part 1

As my contribution this week, I'm going to write a series of posts about being a new mother, some thoughts I've been meaning to write down for quite a while. I read other people's birth stories and baby experiences and sometimes think, "Not exciting. Same thing happened/is happening to me." But I keep reading because those similarities are what bind us together as women, and the differences keep things interesting. Much of what I'm going to say is probably run of the mill, but the following experiences are unique because they are mine.

The first one comes from a post I drafted March 13th of this year but never posted. At this point M-Dubb was almost a month old.

First of all, I'm not special anymore. I mean, I am, but no one else can tell just from looking at me. Walking down the street during the 3rd trimester I stood out. There goes Amy waddling to class. Look at that super pregnant woman. Men used to look at me and smile all with the same kind of knowing/eerily pleased smile. I don't know what they were thinking, but I liked to think it was some kind of combination of checking me out and being awed by my pregnant aura.
But, this past week I started teaching my face to face folklore class on campus again. This means I go out alone, without my baby, who's safe at home with his daddy. I get a break from being mommy, but, as such, my clear identifying marker as tired, nursing mother to a newborn is absent. Today, a girl coming down the sidewalk in my direction did not move for me. She made me move for her. At first I was put out because didn't she know I am pregnant!? No, she didn't because I'm not anymore. Doesn't she know I'm exhausted and doing great things!? No, I'm just a normal looking woman going to campus. No one realizes what a big deal it is that I'm back at school, working in the computer lab, teaching classes already. No real maternity leave for me, people! But that makes me think: who else of the people I pass every day are making huge leaps of faith or overcoming their own Olympian obstacles or are just plain special? Probably everyone in their own way. Some more than others, but it's better to assume more.

Phone Calls to Grandma

June 2015

Grandma died three weeks ago. I attended both of her funerals, one in Utah, one in Oregon. Neither one was particularly sad, as Grandma had lived with Parkinson’s for some time, and most of her relatives and friends had looked on as she lost the ability to walk, and only made it from her bed to the front room by means of a few strong arms, a hoist, and a wheelchair. Everyone at the funeral agreed, though, that her smile and enthusiasm remained.

Amy and I visited her a few times in the last year and a half. We even had dinner with her and my aunt’s family at the end of January 2014. Grandma requested that Aunt Becky make her certain things for her birthday meal, including orange Jell-O salad with green bell pepper and ground black pepper. I managed to eat a small serving of the Jell-O, but Grandma ate everything with relish (though not literally). Grandma liked Amy, but I think we both frustrated her a little because neither one of us had learned that the only way to make her hear us was by shouting our conversation. Her strength waned, and she seemed exhausted every time we visited.

We visited Grandma over Spring Break in March of this year. She was tired and so were we, having just flown back from San Francisco where we’d spent the break with Amy’s aunt and uncle in Danville. We stayed an hour or so, and Grandma held Max for much of that time. That was the last time we saw her before her viewing in Provo on June 3, when I stood with my mom in front of her oak casket, which weighed, as I and seven other relatives later found out as we hefted it into the hearse, about as much as Volkswagen Beetle.

I wasn’t as close to my grandma as many of my cousins were, but I’ve had my share of memories too, like the time I was on Grandma’s team in a game of Scattergories. When we lost I blamed it on her and said, “Don’t play with Grandma. She’s not smart enough!” Maybe tact is a gene that skips generations. Recently some of the more poignant moments I’ve shared with Grandma came over the phone instead of in person. I never have liked phones. I’m actually kind of afraid of them to the point that any unknown caller—and some known—will always go to voice mail. But not everything can happen face to face, and for some things email is too impersonal. So, I called her.

July 2013

Amy and I stepped off the deck into the house after climbing three flights of stairs from the soft sand of the Topsail Island beach. We held hands as we stepped through the sliding doors into the low light of the dining area; the synthetic sparkle of the $15 cubic zirconium I had given her less than a week before, in lieu of the actual engagement ring which had not yet arrived at the jeweler’s store, was reduced to a dull glow. The room was full of family members moving and chatting excitedly in anticipation of homemade pizza and soda. I shed my flip-flops by the mat and excused myself from the buzz.

I went down one flight to the privacy of Amy’s bedroom and shut the door. The day Amy and I flew out to North Carolina for a family vacation in which I would meet all of her family in person for the first time, I had run the two miles to Kohl’s first thing, arriving at the store just a few minutes before it opened. I searched the pile of white boxes containing passable costume jewelry and by a miracle found the lone size 6 ring that Amy might actually wear without blushing. As a result, I had only told some of my immediate family that I was getting married. Grandma was one of those who had not heard the news, and Mom insisted that I call and tell her personally.

I dialed Aunt Becky’s phone number and asked for Grandma.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Grandma! This is Jeff, your grandson.”

We chatted for just a minute before I told her that I was calling from North Carolina.

“What are you doing there?”

“I’m meeting Amy’s family because Amy and I are getting married.”

Without hesitation, she responded, “Are you joking?”

Not exactly what I would call the ideal response, but maybe she had assumed that I, an aged man of 28, might never get married. I reassured her that this was not a joke and that Amy and I were actually engaged. After some effort, I mostly convinced her that I spoke true, although the last thing she said before “I love you, goodbye” was “Are you sure you’re not joking?” After we said hung up, I put my blue flip phone back into the pocket of my cargo shorts and rejoined the others upstairs.

September 2014

Amy was four months pregnant with our son and teaching three classes at Idaho State University. My siblings and parents knew, but the time had come to let Grandma know. Amy sat in her office planning a lesson and grading online discussion posts, while I went out and sat on the steps of the Charles Kegel (yes, Kegel) building and called her. I prepared for a debate, but what I got was much different.

Her voice drifted from the receiver, monotone and tired, a kind of tired that pervades each bone, tissue, nerve ending, and cell. A kind of tired that no amount of sleep can remedy.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Grandma. This is Jeff, your grandson.”

It was our usual song, but the key had changed.

“Grandma, I was just calling to tell you that Amy and I are having a baby.”

Pause.

“Well, that’s fine, dear.”

Her tone troubled me. I had hoped that she would be excited for us, excited to be having another grandbaby, though in my heart I knew why her tone conveyed no perceptible intonations of joy, but instead a kind of passive acceptance, the way a terminal patient might accept a diagnosis. I repeated the news to see if I could provoke more enthusiasm, but the answer was the same: “That’s fine, dear.”

May 2015

Amy and I were about to go over to our friends’ house for a late-afternoon Sunday dinner on May 24 when my sister Celeste called to tell me the news. Grandma had suffered a transient ischemic attack or mini-stroke about two weeks prior, and although, according to Aunt Becky, she was eating more than she had been, Grandma had slipped into unconsciousness earlier that day (May 24) and was still unresponsive. Celeste had talked to Mom, and they seemed to think that Grandma didn’t have long. Celeste told me that if I wanted to say goodbye, now was the time to do that. I didn’t want to talk to Grandma because I knew she couldn’t respond anymore, and the thought of speaking to silence unnerved me. I did want to see how Mom was doing, so I called her.

Almost as soon as she had me on the line, she said, “Here, I will put you on speaker phone and you can talk to Grandma.”

I could hear her footsteps as she walked over to the bedside of the unconscious woman. Amy stood right by me beside the kitchen sink as I thought about what I might say.

“Go ahead,” my mom said.

I drew a breath.

“Hi Grandma. This is your grandson Jeff.”

I paused, then continued.

“I don’t really know what to say, except we love you and I’m really happy you’ll be with Grandpa soon and Max is lying on the couch and he’s looking around and I love you…”

At first, I felt kind of embarrassed as I rambled out my feelings. But as those jumbled words poured out of my mouth and into the phone, I had a moment of clarity. I might be talking gibberish to my sleeping grandma, but I knew the truth of my words. Despite never feeling the proximity to her that many others had to her, somewhere in that silence tinged with cell phone static, I knew that I did, in fact, love her.

What Amy and Jeff Learned about Collaboration (from Jeff’s POV, but Amy Helped Write It)

Amy growled at me. Last evening. I think she had a right to, and this was not the first time we have sat down to practice for a musical number, and I have left feeling picked on and offended. I’ve been learning to play the banjo, and I still don’t play very well, but we were going to play a duet in church, me on banjo, Amy on flute and mandolin, and both of us on vocals. I was forgetting the words to “For the Beauty of the Earth” and the chords, coming in late, starting early, starting on the wrong beat, and I wasn’t communicating very well, and it was messing her up. And so she growled. And glared. So I got frustrated and clamped my mouth shut. Just got really quiet. Just like that one time. And the time before that. And that other time.

I’m sure you can see that that’s a pattern.

My outward reaction to my inward frustrations over my lack of skill mirrors my reaction to the perceived slight from my wife. She was reacting to my initial frustrated silence, and then I reacted to her irritation in a way that not only compounded the situation but my silence was actually both the cause and the effect of this conflict. An effect to which she reacted. And so the spiral descended.  

One thing I learned early on about writing curriculum vitae and resumes is the value of the words collaborative and collaboration. It’s one thing to say you accomplished something grand on your own; employers look at individual achievements and begin to make notes about the potential value of a worker’s motivation, ambition, and drive to succeed. However, if you can say that same grand thing was collaborative, that you managed to work with someone to accomplish it, then a potential employer will have the same kind of thoughts about your motivation, ambition, and drive, but with the knowledge that you can put aside differences, egoism, narcissism, and problem solve within a group dynamic for the good of the task and the good of the group (“What if none of us goes for the blonde?”). If you know how to collaborate right, you can probably lead by example, delegate effectively, and receive correction and instruction gracefully.

Oh, and let’s not forget that accomplishing goals as a node in a larger social network is hard; some people always want to lead, and others always want to follow, but a truly collaborative mind thinks adaptively and accepts a more fluid role in a group environment, thoroughly willing to lead, but eager to follow.

What I have just described, the ideal collaborator, is facilitated by negotiated roles, proper attitudes, and work ethic, but these social relationships with their tricky dynamics and shared objectives are rarely ideal. Some people can collaborate really well with certain people because their shared strengths complement each other so well, but that doesn’t mean they can collaborate with just anyone. If you have two people who are really good at the same set of tasks, but can’t negotiate their individual roles in completing the tasks, then you have conflict. If you have people who don’t do their job right, and others who don’t forgive easily, you have conflict. If you are tired and the baby won’t go to sleep, you’ll get conflict. If you want to discuss a problem and your husband won’t talk about it, you get conflict. If your wife is hungry and you need to talk about something that’s bugging you, trust me, you’ll get conflict.

Contrary to popular belief, not all conflict is avoidable. Also contrary to popular belief, conflict is an inherent by-product of group dynamics. Interaction between individuals with divergent personalities, cultural backgrounds, and training will almost always bring about some kind of conflict, to a greater or lesser degree. It’s really natural to have conflict. What’s more, conflict can be educational. My ability to play my D7s with Amy’s accompaniment encountered my expectations for myself and revealed an underlying conflict.

How we dealt with it revealed some of the mechanisms that Amy and I employ to cope with conflict in this very particular situation in which we prepare to play music for an audience. When I was a kid and then a teenager, I had a terrible temper. For example, I would frequently fly off the handle when my brother presented me with a range of inflammatory stimuli from teasing me in front of his friends to a humiliating loss on the basketball court. Those situations created conflict, and to cope with it I got angry and reacted. I later learned to control my anger, but I really only traded coping mechanisms; instead of becoming vocal with my fury, I would become silent, and this is a learned pattern of behavior I have followed ever since. These kinds of patterns are difficult to break out of; there’s a reason they’re called patterns, after all. And we all have them, we are often aware that we have them, and we generally know that we need to—and can—do better. Yet, conflict arises, and we resort to those negative coping mechanisms, those ingrained behaviors, for no other reason than that’s how we’ve taught ourselves to act in the presence of certain conditions and stimuli.

And one of the most frustrating parts of the things I’ve written is that they are mostly intuitive. Most people know they deal with conflict in potentially negative ways, and they also realize that it’s difficult to curb their behavioral patterns. I know I do these things, and I expect myself to be better than I am. How can I cultivate healthy coping mechanisms for the conflicts I encounter on an almost daily basis?

I can start by looking at the person next to me.

When it came our turn during church, Amy went and gave Max to Sister Rasmussen, and I set up the chairs and the music stand. We got our instruments out, Amy with her mandolin and flute, I with my banjo. Amy counted off, and sure enough problems arose. I had trouble with my D7s, for starters, and Amy was having problems sound quality and resonance on the mandolin. Then, when we were supposed to start singing the first verse, I started in on the second verse instead. I corrected myself halfway through the first verse, but I was embarrassed. But something happened. Something different than the last time. And the time before. And that other time. Instead of our mistakes pitting us against each other, throwing off our flow, our failings were synched together, moving us in the same direction. I glanced over at Amy, sitting there playing. This time, the Amy-bear didn’t growl and glare. She just smiled, and we kept playing. 

And you know what? We sounded pretty good together.   

Serving Mothers Glorifies God

Jeff and I spoke in our Sacrament Meeting (ie our worship service) today for Mother's Day. I went first and selfishly took up most of the time (ok, all of it), so he only gave a portion of his talk. Although what he said was powerful and sweet, I wanted him to have a venue to share what he worked so hard on. So, in honor of our mother's here are his thoughts: 

First of all, Happy Mother’s Day. It’s really a pleasure to speak on this particular holiday because, first, this year my wife, Amy, is a mother for the first time. Max came along and changed our lives, and we both feel like completely different kinds of people than we were even a few months ago, as most people do, I imagine, when faced with caring for a little lump with an often piercing wail and a limited but specific range of needs and wants that require attention regardless of the time of day (or night). It’s been life-altering in a way that may sound cliché, but only because we lack the proper terminology for describing all of the distinct aspects, mental, physical, spiritual, of this process, which is simultaneously common or communal and subjective, individualized, unique, and extremely personal. Because of these experiences, mothers embody, figuratively and literally, all that cannot be explained about these kinds of experiences, and so we celebrate.

Second, this day is special because, let’s face it, even if you aren’t a mom, I imagine you have had one at some time or another who was primarily responsible for getting you here, and that’s also a reason to celebrate. It’s not like a birthday where we, for the most part, celebrate the wrong person, using cake and candles and presents to say, “Way to be born!” to people who physically did absolutely nothing to get themselves here. My wife has an uncle who takes flowers to his mother on his birthday to celebrate the person to whom the day signifies more than just “I made it here! Aren’t you proud of me!” but also a lot of love, pain, and fulfillment in providing a physical body for one of Heavenly Father’s children, and I don’t mean fulfillment simply in an obligatory “I have a role that I have fulfilled because I am a woman” kind of way, but in the sense that one receives a kind of beautiful satisfaction and sense of one’s own strength and individual ability as a woman in God’s kingdom. At least on Mother’s Day, we are all in agreement, in thought and in deed, and mothers are brought to the forefront as objects of our praise, admiration, and gratitude.

In his novel Ninety-Three, Victor Hugo depicts a scene in which French soldiers encounter a woman, a widow, whose husband had been killed three days prior and who has two children, but little or nothing to feed them. Hugo writes, “The eldest of the children…said, ‘I am hungry.’ The sergeant took a bit of regulation bread from his pocket, and handed it to the mother. She broke the bread into two fragments, and gave them both to her children, who ate them with avidity.

“‘She has kept none for herself,’ grumbled the sergeant.”

“Because she is not hungry,’ said a soldier.”

“‘Because she is a mother,’ said the sergeant.” (16)

In this scene, which Jeffrey R. Holland has quoted in General Conference, we witness an exchange that in some ways feels like an allusion to the words of James 1:27: “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction.” But it is what comes after that initial bit of charity, given in the form of “regulation bread” that is, to me, most noteworthy. First, the woman, who is starving herself, eats none of the bread, but divides it among her two hungry children, it appears, as a near reflex. The sergeant, seeing her self-denial, grumbles. The soldier and he offer their interpretations of the act, the soldier suggesting that she does because she isn’t actually hungry, while the sergeant remarks that she does it because “she is a mother.” In the context of this scene, neither remark is intended positively and instead serve to diminish the magnitude of this act. The soldier’s remark dissolves any hint of sacrifice on the mother’s part, implying that if she were hungry, she would have eaten some first. The sergeant’s comment, that “she is a mother,” is not a kind of admiration for this mother, but is instead a kind of grumbling judgment or second-guessing of her act of devotion to her children. He sees the mother’s act as a weakness or lack of control; she cannot do otherwise because of what she is. Why he grumbles and how he means “Because she is a mother” is not clear, but it does give us something to contemplate.

That the essence of motherhood stems in part from natural tendencies is absolutely accurate, and this woman’s act at least on the surface features characteristics we associate with reflexive action, an action that occurs naturally in her because of a particular stimulus, the way a knee will jerk if you tap it with a hammer. But we also know that human beings are born with fallen natures; we have mortal bodies coupled with eternal spirits, and the fallen part of ourselves is something we must wrestle with, through the positive enactment of agency, throughout this life. This is not a negative; on the contrary, if we do something good, it means we have to overcome the selfish “natural man” part of ourselves in order to do it. Mothers are not exempt from that. Through a repeated pattern of selfless acts, like so many mothers I know, this mother has built a lifestyle of giving, of sacrifice, to the point that her act becomes instantaneous, an act that at one time was a conscious process that has become automatic, she is not at the mercy of her own nature but because she has denied or conquered the animal part of her human nature that would have seen to her own needs first.

In 1 Nephi 5, Sariah “complains” to Lehi, when her sons do not return: “Behold thou hast led us forth from the land of our inheritance, and my sons are no more, and we perish in the wilderness.” Now, I would first like to say that I think it is significant that these lines and those in verse 8 when she bears her testimony that the Lord is in charge and that he did protect their sons from Laban are the only times in The Book of Mormon that Sariah has any quoted dialogue, so I’m pretty sure Nephi felt there was something substantial to learn from this experience. Yes, Sariah does complain, and we admit that. It says so right here. But please can we not consider all the murmuring in the wilderness to be of the same kind? Nephi’s brothers have a pattern of rebellion and throughout these writings, but Nephi gives no indication of a similar pattern for Sariah. He does not depict his mother as an incessant nag. If Hugo’s sergeant had been involved in this story as well, he probably would have said that it was “Because she is a mother” in a way that implies irrationality, uncontrollable emotion, insubordination, and weakness. But this has nothing to do with that. What we can extrapolate from the context of this outburst and apply what we know about mothers, and mothers worrying, and why they worry, and how much they worry, is that this is not the absence of faith so much as the presence of sheer terror and worry and anxiety on behalf of her children, and this is probably not, and this is my opinion of course, the first time she has been subjected to that kind of distress. This is just the latest, I imagine, in a series of sleepless nights. Laman and Lemuel’s complaints are self-serving and self-interested, while Sariah’s come from a place of love, which is why, on the one hand, Lehi corrects them, and on the other hand as Nephi explains, his father “did…comfort my mother Sariah concerning us, while we journeyed in the wilderness up to the land of Jerusalem” (1 Nephi 5:8). He understands that Sariah is not angry at him so much as she is angry at the situation and attempting to process the reasons behind it.

In light of these two examples, I would ask how can we know how to serve mothers, ours or anyone else’s? Hugo demonstrates physical support alone being given, while Lehi looks past what outwardly seems like rebellion and supplies the proper response to Sariah’s pain. Physical and emotional support are both highly important forms of service, and providing one and not the other essentially equates to what Jesus said of the Pharisees, that “ye pay tithe of mint and anise and cumin and have omitted the weightier matters of the law” (Matthew 23:23). I think the key thing involves cultivating a perspective, a discerning eye, that ability to see needs that are less obvious and fill them. Ever since our little boy was born, my life is filled with opportunities to serve my wife, to sustain her physically and emotionally, to meet her needs and our son’s whether they are glaring or subtle, to understand the pain, tiredness, and discomfort that lies just beyond what the natural eye can perceive. If we really want to build the kingdom of God quickly, we should turn our hearts to our mothers, as well as our fathers, and sustain them in the ways they really need. As I work toward building my own consistent lifestyle of self-sacrifice by overcoming the “natural man,” I hope that I can become that person who loves the mothers in my life in ways they require and not necessarily in the ways I think they need and by really understanding that there is no such thing as an insignificant need. 

Summer Rememberies Pt. I

I think the only negative thing about working at a university and getting long summer breaks is the level of difficulty it takes to get used to having to work again. I am finishing my first week of hard core adjuncting absolutely exhausted. I don't have to deal with the pains of balancing teaching and my own school work anymore (or the guilt about neglecting one or the other), but I'm now teaching three different courses, a task that has proven to be challenging. But it's starting to get fun again. 

In honor of the new semester, I'd like to take a few moments to remember our summer adventures. We traveled all over the place, it feels like, mostly to see family and friends or to take care of thesis matters for me, but we had fun along the way. 

First of all, in May, we went down to Logan so I could graduate (though I wasn't really done with my thesis yet). Huzzah! My parents came out from NC and Brian, Mani and Grandma Win came up from Provo and Salt Lake respectively. Kristin Ladd also came down from Jackson just for me! (I'm sure she was also there to see other people, but we're going to say it was just for me)

Here's Grandma charming Kristin with her stories about Jackson at brunch at Cafe Ibis

The one non-fuzzy shot! Good job, Jeff! (That was not sarcastic... seriously)

Sorry about this one Brian. It was a loooong ceremony, so the tired-half yawning face is appropriate

Jeff bought me tulips. He's the sweetest! 

Then he made me my birthday cake. The cake and pan were supplied most generously by his mom, but the chocolate pudding-filled center and cherries were totally his idea. Isn't he marvelous!? I don't think I gush about him enough. So here's my internet debut of my gushy feelings. I gush about him constantly at home. He hates it. Just kidding. He loves it. Actually, I don't know....

In all honesty, I started blogging today to put up pictures of our first official camping trip, but I got sidetracked by me. I'm supposed to be doing something else, so I'll have to get to that next time. Maybe that can even be Jeff's blogging debut! 

Turning Over a New Leaf

Today I won a pedometer from a drawing I entered a few months ago at the Health and Wellness Fair at Idaho State. I never win anything I enter, so this must be a sign. Time to start blogging again. Someone recently pointed out the irony that the last post I have up is one about finally having something to say and wanting my voice to be heard. That was almost three years ago, and I haven't posted since. Ha!
The lovely thing about that post, though, is that Jeff edited it for me. I love finding little reminders that he's been a part of my life for longer than just the past year, and he's always been important to me, even if just for free editing. So here goes: a little log of our life together, as we see it and create it. More to come!

Hey-Nonny

This week I'm guest-blogging on a blog my sister-in-law contributes to. Check it out!

http://www.hey-nonny.com/2011/10/21/lessons-in-assertiveness/

Winter and the amazing bread basket.

Every now and then I remember that if I have something I wish I could share with other people, I have a forum for doing that. The other day I walked out of my front door and saw the mountains for the first time since the rain-fat clouds had enveloped them the night before. Something about them was funny. I've seen mountains after the first dusting of snow before, but these were strange. I never quite was able to put my finger on it, but I think it might have been because the line was so uniform. My first impression of the gray and white trees and rocks topping the mountains was that someone was holding an "old-movie filter" up against the landscape. But it was stark gray, like the evil queen's hand in "Willow" when she catches the acorn, and it starts to turn to stone. It was like someone had come and painted a stripe across half of the mountain, leaving one half other-worldly. It was a fleeting impression, though, and today, the mountains look as they normally do in fall.
Well, late fall. I feel betrayed by the weather. Sweden did this to me last year. One more taste of the glory of summer and then winter comes and slaps me in the face the next week. Thank you for the adjustment period! It would have been nice to have.
But the point is, when I saw and felt all this, I wanted to write about it and have it be read. I realized that's just one more thing to add to the list of post-mission adjustments--there's no more audience. I no longer have my arena full of spectators cheering me on each week as I take on the evils of the world in a gladiatorial battle (as Kathy once described my weekly readership). So, maybe I'll take up blogging. I probably should. It'll help my academic ego take root.
Another triumph this week (if remembering that I have a blog can be termed a triumph) was finally being called an enigma. I've waited years for people to realize how mysterious and wonderfully nuanced I am. Sadly, I didn't expect it to be over my excitement about the bread basket at a restaurant on Tuesday. For me, the bread basket, when it is a quality bread basket, is one of the best parts of the restaurant-going experience. I had already eaten my appetizer, salad, and a few bites of my entree when I realized I had completely missed that the waitress had brought out a superb assortment of breads at the same time as the lightly fried calamari. I was so excited at the unexpected turn of events. Bread! My favorite! So, in an act that I saw as completely logical since I was already getting full, I declared my intention to save the entree for lunch tomorrow and just eat bread for the rest of the meal. I was just being myself, but this to my date (it was not supposed to be a date, but that's a whole other story) was mysterious and surprising. "You are an enigma!" he said in a wondering tone. Ah, the fulfillment of a dream. Funny how our dreams never turn out quite the way we want them to. At least he didn't call me a pig (that's my mom's story...). But, I don't regret it. The assortment of breads was the best I'd had in a long time, and lunch the next day was amazing.

Week 67

Subject: Signing off

Hi everybody!

So, the days of dominion have begun. Just kidding, but President Newell has already implemented some changes in the mission, namely changing transfer day to Wednesday instead of Thursday. We found out yesterday via text message from the assistants. Surprise! This is the last full day of the transfer, tomorrow's p-day, you're leaving on Wednesday! I was shocked and wasn't sure if I was happy about that or not. We were over in the tourist area of the city, actually, so we sat down and made some plans and quickly cleared our schedule. It all has worked out really well.
President called late last night to tell Sis Brown that she would be staying and getting a 2nd transfer missionary. She's very nervous, but I know she'll be ok. I packed this morning and because of the box I sent home and the stuff I don't want to take with me, both my suitcases are barely full. I don't really know what happened, but I'm not complaining! One of my suitcases' wheels are non-functional, ok, ripped to shreds, so I was able to pack that one lightly. It's great! The train ride tomorrow should be really fun. Elder Rowley is going to Sundsvall, Elder Olsen is going to Gubbängen, and Elder Alder is going home, so the face of our district is totally changing. I get to take the train with a ton of fun people. We have to be at the mission home by 5pm tomorrow and then on Thursday they have a whole day of activities lined up for us. Supposedly, the changes are so it makes it easier for the dying missionaries to adjust and for the new missionaries to get to their areas sooner. I think that sounds good. We'll see on Thursday. I hope the activities include being introduced to the king and queen. President Newell knows them pretty well :)

We had our combined Malmö-Göteborg zone conference on Saturday to meet the Newells. They are lovely people. Very real and sincere. We could tell they already loved us, and though apprehensive about everything, ready to do what was required of them. Amazing examples of faith. I've never had an up-close look into the life of an ambassador, but Pres. Newell described their experiences here in Sweden and they were amazing. 40-bedroom house, fancy dinners, meeting everyone important in Sweden and tons of foreign dignitaries. He's also had quite the career in the US it seems. Really cool to hear about. He of course is humble about it, but honest, so it made for a really fun couple of hours.

Right after we ran over to Utby's chapel for Kleber's baptism. It was absolutely beautiful. It worked out that the Portuguese member from our ward was able to come and speak. Her husband, Anders, did the confirmation the next day in Portuguese as well. Elder Webster did the baptism in Portuguese and I spoke in Spanish. I was so nervous because I hadn't practiced or anything. I had Elder Bednar's talk, 'Receive the Holy Ghost' in Spanish just in case I blanked, but the Spirit filled my mouth and I was able to say what I needed to. All the Portuguese speakers said they understood perfectly and complemented my clear Spanish. Anders even said that he understood me better than anybody in Spain. When I told him I'd learned in Guatemala, he said, "That's why!" It would have made Maria, my Spanish teacher, proud :) They always said Guatemalan Spanish is the best.

The baptism and confirmation made my life. It was so wonderful and Spirit-filled. K was so ready and expressed so much gratitude and sincere dedication to continuing to change his life. After the confirmation we went back to our ward for Sacrament meeting. It also made my life when the 2nd counselor thanked me for all my service and asked for me to come and bear my testimony. I said, "You like me! You really like me!" Just kidding, but I felt like that. Per G. Malm was sitting on the stand that day. That was a little nerve wracking at first, but maybe not so much since I know most of his family and love them. It also made my life when R got up near the end and bore a confident, sweet testimony about how the Spirit had helped him understand better the nature of God, something he'd been seeking to know for a year. He's normally very shy and doesn't say much even when we ask him direct questions. We could see that our baby was all grown up and feeling more comfortable. We were so happy.

Otherwise, we've been trying to wrap up and prepare for the changes ahead. I'm so grateful for my mission and the multitude of lessons I've learned along the way. See you in 3 days!!

Love,

Syster Maxwell

Week 66

Subject: Beginning the week of lasts

Hello family!

Dear me. Last week was kind of bad as far as numbers go, but wonderful otherwise. On Tuesday we started the week with 6 teaches at the Institute. 12 pm, 3:30pm, 4:30pm, 5:45pm, 7pm, and 8pm. We essentially said goodbye to each investigator and said, "Next, please!" It was amazing and exhausting! It made me feel a little like Aaron Lee, actually :)

We started and finished teaching a guy from India who was here on a business trip. We gave him a Hindi Book of Mormon and pamphlets and he said he'd love to have missionaries in India come visit. Also, M is leaving this week to go back to Colombia. We keep hoping he'll say he wants to get baptized before he goes, but we aren't sure how practical that is :) He's ready if he wants to. K is still on his way to get baptized on Saturday. He's so excited! We introduced him to a girl in the ward in Utby and really hoped they'd hit it off. Maybe... They both thought the other was funny. We've been making steps to transition him over to the other ward, but he went to church there this week and then called us asking why we weren't there and said he wanted to go to our church. No! Not allowed :) We felt loved, though. I asked him yesterday how it is going not drinking coffee. He said in his jovial broken English, "Fine! Great! But I drink some beers and smoking cigarettes. Ha ha ha!" I said, "What!? Are you lying!" He was :) It was really funny. You have to know him. Everybody loves him. He came to midsummer with us on Friday and had fun trying his hand at American Football and dancing around the midsummer pole.

Midsummer was awesome. It started out rainy and cold. We went first to a party in Utby with other members of the church and community and braved the rain. We had a small cook out after with the other missionaries and some of our investigators and new members and the rain started clearing. Later we headed over to Slottskogen for part 2 of the celebrations. We danced around the midsummer pole again, but this time it was led by people in traditional garb who performed traditional dances before hand. I was in heaven. I wished we could have stayed and watched longer, but the other missionaries and our friends had moved on to play football. We are allowed to participate in the dances, but there was one that caught me off guard. I don't think we danced it last year. It's one where you turn to your neighbor, shake his hand, and then give him a hug. Agh! I didn't know and then all of a sudden the kid in traditional clothes was putting his arms around me. It was funny to just me, of course. He probably thought my reaction was weird is all.

We watched the new version of the Joseph Smith movie online with C. It was weird in some places with the editing and chopping they did, but they addressed all of the concerns I had about the last one. He loved it, so it did its job.

We finished the week out well, and are on to the next. My last full week! It's crazy. This shouldn't be my last letter. I'll write again on the 6th probably and report on the new mission president and K's baptism if all goes well. I think it will. Got good feelings about this one. Well, I love you all. I'm excited about this next week and the hard work we've got ahead of us. Good luck getting ready for the family reunion. Save some of the fun until I get there!

Love,

Syster Maxwell

Week 65

Subject: 15 minutes!

Hejsan,

This week was really long. We had sharpening and it always makes the week seem longer to not have district meeting on Thursday. But, the week was just fine.

On Monday we went to a fort near Göteborg and spent a couple of glorious hours running around taking pictures, climbing on rocks, listening to Elder Bloomfield mimic Gregorian chant in the tower and having fun make believing we live in a storybook. I love Sweden!

Tuesday was Sharpening with President and Sister Anderson and my last one. It was very emotional and powerful and I felt that confirmation that my work here has been good and approved of by the Lord. I've done what I came to do (or am doing it still), and have learned a good deal. It's the beginning of something greater which I look forward to. I am so very grateful for President and Sister Anderson. I've learned a ton from their examples and the way they have dealt with challenges with consideration, care, and trust. They'll be missed, but more and more the missionaries and members here are preparing for really big things to come with President Newell. The work here will only go forward and I'm excited to be a little part of it, but sad to be leaving when it feels like the best is yet to come. It's amazing to see.

On Wednesday we set a baptismal date with K, our Brazilian friend. Elder Webster again happened to be at the center when we had our appointment. Coincidence? I think not. He should actually be here on the 2nd for a special zone conference where we'll be meeting the new mission president. We have dreams of him being here to baptize him. That would be so cool! K didn't come to church on Sunday because of work, so our plans for a big last baptism for me might be changing, but it doesn't matter. K was hesitant about the word of wisdom because he's a push over and is afraid of giving in when people offer him a drink and because he drinks a ton of coffee. He agreed to try though. He's really awesome.

E finally read! He's the guy from Iran. I was able to talk to him about baptism. It actually came up because Z called us on Thursday and said that he didn't feel like he could go through with the baptism because he has family still in Afghanistan and he realizes if he gets baptized he can never go back. There are also some issues with his residency here. I guess if he does something wrong, they can still send him back. He's also worried about his friends here jumping him or something. We, of course, respect that and have to let him do what he feels is right. We just hope he'll keep coming to church and being a part of things. So, I told this to E, who asked about the baptism, and he said that was also his concern. We talked about how we understood that and thought it was still good for him to keep meeting us and seeking it because it will bless his life in any case. Perhaps someday the situation will change.

We've had some good teaches with M who is interested in continuing to meet the missionaries when he goes home to Colombia in a few weeks. Yay!

I also received the compliment of my life this week from an American member who said that I have 'bomb Swedish' and that I'm a really good missionary and things have been really good since I got here. He said, 'You have a strong Spirit. Whatever you're doing it's right'. Made my week and life. :)

We also had stake conference. It was a broadcast from Salt Lake with President Eyring, Elder Bednar, Elder Malm (whose family is all in my ward), and Sister Beck. It was awesome! M loves Pres. Eyring. I do too!

Anyway, so I must be off, but those were the highlights. It's been kind of up and down, but lots of up. I know we are cared for and protected every day. I love the Spirit that we feel and just like mom wrote about it, I hope to be able to live worthy of it even at home even without the missionary mantel. It's essential. Hope everyone is being good and doing what you should be. I love you all!

Syster Maxwell

Week 64

Subject: the trunk-o-meter reading looks positive

Hejsan allihopa!

During district meeting this week, we made a scale of trunkiness, and it turns out I'm only a 4! Woo hoo! Well, this week continued as normal. We had teaches and rain. Lots of rain, but not so much rain. We went to a graduation ceremony for the girl who I've been helping with editing her thesis. I realized that I am going to be weirder than I expected when I get home when sitting in an auditorium for a graduation I was surprised there wasn't an opening prayer. Oh dear. Listening to them talk about their theses and all the hard work they put into them made me realize that that's my near future. The reality of next month hit me in the face. I remember the real world, and I'm not sure I want to go back there yet. Oh well. It's inevitable.

We met a couple on the street the other day from China who said we don't know much about God, can you tell us? But, you have to tell us now because we are going back to China tomorrow. Sadly, we had to catch a bus, so we did the best we could with the 10 minutes we had, her translating for him, and us leaving her with an English Book of Mormon and website. Those are the moments you wonder what the future will hold for them, but you know you'll probably never know.

We also ran into M on the street, the man from Palestine who doesn't believe in God and thinks we are brainwashed fools and liked to call us his angels. Because of cancellations and problems finding people to come along, we ended up eating with him twice once at a cafe and once at his house. He's always frustrated by how little time we have even though we explain it to him every time. The funny thing is that both times, he introduced us to Christian people interested in talking about God. He runs with an interesting crowd, for the attitudes he has. We really liked the girl who came to dinner yesterday. She is into praise dance and has a sweet faith in God. We were able to introduce her to the church and the Book of Mormon at least.

Otherwise, teaches have been wonderful. R is doing great, and so is Z. We taught him about tithing with the bishop on Wednesday and he said, well, of course! The bishop asked him some interview-like questions about his feelings about the Church and about Christianity and such and he bore a sweet testimony of Jesus Christ, Joseph Smith, Thomas S. Monson, etc. He's awesome and has a fun, biting sense of humor. We're so grateful we found him again!

Well, the weather is nice again today, and I'm excited about the rest of the transfer. It's going to be great! I hope everyone is staying healthy and putting on sunblock. I love the gospel and I know the Church is the Lord's! Have a great week!

Syster Maxwell

Week 63

Subject: I swear the air in Sweden is fresher

Hejsan!

This has been a fantastic week. Summer is finally here and my sister missionary shoe tan is starting to emerge. Hurrah! We were getting ready for R's baptism, and were able to meet with a number of our investigators. We had some incredible, Spirit filled teaches and were overwhelmed with how prepared R actually was. The only thing he seemed concerned about was a living prophet. He wanted to make sure he wasn't some kind of a cultist leader. We had him watch some of his talks online and explained what his role really is and he was fine with it. Crazy! He told us he had a dream that angels were flying around the church building. He also entertained us this week with stories about his parents' matchmaking and how that really works in India (at least where he's from). I've always heard about it, but never from a person who has actually lived it. We also found him a buddy in the ward. He gave a talk and confirmed him and we hope he'll be a mentor to him as he finds his place among the members. He's going to be great. The confirmation was amazing. At the words, 'receive the Holy Ghost' the Spirit flooded the room and the blessing that followed was personal and beautiful. He was beaming the entire day and the members just took him in. It was wonderful to see. C (got baptized in April) came to the baptism and helped us fold programs. He even bore his testimony in church, reporting on the baptism and how meaningful it was. It was awesome. He's a great ward missionary without even trying.

We finally found a perfect member to follow along on teaches with our African investigator who knows the Book of Mormon is true. She's in her 40s and outspoken, so he listens to her and she can keep him on track. We finally got to teach him something! We found out that he in turn teaches his wife, who can't speak Swedish or English, and his son. When I heard that, I knew those people needed the Plan of Salvation, so even though we were short on time, we drew it out for him and gave him a pamphlet so he could start teaching everyone else. He wants so much for his wife to come around, but he says it's hard when she's illiterate and brainwashed (his words, not mine). We told him to pray that the Spirit would touch her heart. Hope it does!

We found out that the trick with H is that he needs friends for his kids so that they will come with to church him. We are really excited to have him come to an FHE with a family in the ward. It's all just hopes and dreams, but I can see it now. And then his wife will come around. And then they'll go to the temple together. It'll work!

Everything's been wonderful this week. Except for losing two of our favorite investigators. The 17-year-old Spanish speaker doesn't really want to meet with us and hasn't been making progress, and D, our miracle contact on the street, texted us and said that praying is going well and that he has decided our church isn't for him. Sad day.

Well, we found two women potential investigators yesterday. One of them was having a family barbeque. She asked for a Book of Mormon and said we were welcome anytime. Lovely! I was making the weekly report yesterday and was a bit sad that they were all men, so here's hoping that changes soon.

I also met a lady from Guatemala yesterday! She is from Huehuetenango. I'm pretty sure I've been there, but I can't remember. It was nice to hear that wonderful accent again.

Well, I think that's the news. We have so many wonderful things to look forward to this month, and I'm trying not to think about the weeks. I love you all and I love this work!

Syster Maxwell

Week 62

Subject: This is short.

Hey all,

It has rained all week. That always puts a damper on everything good that has happened, but we've had a great week nonetheless. We had a miracle with our Brazilian man. We couldn't get our Brazilian member to come with us this week, but we realized that Elder Webster, one of the assistants, was going to be at the Center that day for District Leader training. His dad was a mission president in Brazil when he was about 13-16, so we asked him to help out. I still get about half of what is said, but it was so good to have K be able to express himself and ask his questions to someone who understood everything. He's still moving forward and we have dinner and a teach set up with the Brazilian lady this week.

Everyone is just moving along wonderfully. R is overwhelmed learning everything so quickly, but he's still positive and happy about it. And Z is still really cool and more and more willing to take part in activities and church. Something really exciting that has happened recently is with the former bishop and his wife were made ward missionaries. They are such a big help mostly with their enthusiasm and willingness to help. It makes us feel like people remember us and love us.

I'm trying to think if there were any fun highlights this week, but I can't recall any. Oh, it's been gay pride week this week I guess. I haven't seen or heard anything other than rainbow flags everywhere. That was a bit of a disappointment. We also had fun on Monday playing football. Elder Todesco gave Elder Olsen a run for his money and we all had a really fun time. The both have played or will play for the U of U. Yep, guess you had to be there. I'm also in heaven because it's avocado season again. Yay! Well, have a good week everyone. The Church is true!

Syster Maxwell

Week 61

Subject: The blessings of consecration

Hejsan allihopa,

So, this has been quite the week. We saw so many miracles this week. We found a guy from Brazil who has a friend on a mission in Australia, so he was excited to meet with us. He hardly speaks English, but we can fill in the gaps with Spanish and we have a Brazilian lady who can help as well.

On Saturday, we saw part of the Göteborg half marathon. We were there when the first runners came by. They were mostly Kenyans and broke the course record with 1:00:02. They all looked so pretty like they could run that fast all day. It was cool to see live. They run the race all through down town Göteborg. There were maybe 45,000 participants and all the public transportation was closed down. Getting home was fun, but it worked out. I think it would be fun to run someday.

That evening we met a guy from Nigeria who seemed really positive at first, but then his questions got more and more accusing and pointed, until we were defending our faith and the fact that we actually do follow Jesus Christ. We couldn't get him to end the flow of questions and ended up getting home late. On the way home, the drunk who we'd met with once before (he was sober at the time), happened to be on the tram with his Indian friend who was also drunk. I decided it was a tender mercy. Put me in a much better mood. His friend told us all about Mormons, and the first guy told me how much he liked me, patted me on the head, and blew me a kiss as the tram pulled away when we got off. They made me laugh and the positive sentiments about our faith lightened my mood. I love the people we meet!

We also met, R, a PhD candidate from India. He didn't show up to an appointment on Sunday with us, but he came on Tuesday. The Spirit was so strong and he was so ready to hear and accept our message. He agreed to meet again on Thursday, and when he came on Thursday, we found out that he knows a guy who just got baptized in the Utby ward from cricket (they play on Saturdays. We're going next Saturday!). In the teach, the Spirit was again there in abundance and he gladly agreed to be baptized. The 4th felt like the right date. I didn't realize until after that it's really only 2 weeks away. Ah!

On Friday we had a nice chat with Z about everything going on in his life, and during the opening prayer, I felt prompted just to go ahead and ask about how he felt about baptism. He said, 'I was going to ask you about that. What does someone need to do to get ready?' We were overjoyed and he is enthusiastic about the idea. We are praying really hard he gets his driver's license the first go around because the classes are keeping him from coming to church. When we got home that night, as we knelt in prayer, I got a strong impression that these are the blessings of consecration. I want to continue to put off my own desires to help those who are here. This is my time to serve and I am so grateful for it. Love you all!

Syster Maxwell

Week 60

Subject: Donations gratefully accepted

So, this has been a good week. The weather turned chilly and rainy, but the sun is shining today. Well, it was. It looks gray outside again. Elder Olsen wants me and Sis Brown to wrestle today. I'm feeling very passive today, so I don't think it's going to fly. She'd probably kill me on any day. So, if I don't write next week, that's why.

Otherwise, life is wonderful. We had some really good teaches this week and people kept giving us stuff. Food, jewelry, small children, etc. It's been fun.

On Tuesday we started out meeting a guy I talked to on the spårvagn over the weekend. He told us how lonely he is and that he wants to hang out with us all the time. We finished teaching him which basically entailed giving him pamphlets and a Book of Mormon to read at home since his Swedish was worse than I'd initially thought. As we were leaving he pulled out a little package for me. I thought it was food, so I was going to open it later, and then later I realized it was a bracelet. It's actually pretty nice, so I was grateful. He brought one for sister brown the next time we met. That meeting was especially fun because we brought, F along, the new member who hardly speaks English. We really just wanted them to get to know each other (they both speak Arabic), so M would talk and talk and talk and then F would turn to us and say, 'it's good!' or 'I don't know... sorry,' and give us a big grin. It all cracked us up, and most importantly we found out M was mostly after money. Oh well.

On Wednesday we had another language adventure and a fun little success story. There is a girl who we've been helping with editing her master's thesis who is interested in the church once she's not busy anymore, so we've been waiting and helping her feel comfortable at the Institute. We had a stroke of inspiration which all worked out beautifully. I contacted another guy a few weeks ago who doesn't speak much English or Swedish, but he speaks Farsi. The first time we met him he brought his own translator, but we realized that M (the girl) would be a great help to us (she's from Iran), and it would be a way to start teaching her. We had Swedish class, so we got help from the zone leaders who's investigator the guy really should be. It all worked wonderfully! The rest of the story is that M and K (the guy) when to church on Sunday and really liked it! M is willing to translate any time for the elders and said that one day she will eventually be a part of this church. It was wonderful! There's again the whole being Muslim issue, so we'll see what happens in the future, but for now, I'm really happy. She's my social science buddy.

Otherwise, Z is making progress and has been responding really well to the men we've been bringing along (cultural thing?). He also really liked the whole women in the home value we've got. Sigh. He's really great, and once his driver's ed course is over should be able to come to church again...

We also met another lady who wanted to be our friend. She's really sweet and 81 and our 'teach' with her consisted in us listening to her for an hour and being able to teach her about the Book of Mormon. She's from Romania originally and is an interesting lady.

Ack! My time is up. I got a bit carried away, but to wrap up, my birthday was really fun. We had Thai food for lunch, the elders made me a cake, and they all sang to me at the restaurant. It was humiliating for me and the Finnish elder in the other district :) Well, hope you all are well. Have a great week!

Week 59

Subject: Short week. Nice weather.

Hey all!

So the weather is lovely and warm again, so all is well with the world. Transfers were surprisingly non-stressful. Sis Jenson was all packed before Wednesday and we had time for everything we wanted to do. It was lovely. On Wednesday night we got to see all the people who have been too busy or too sick to meet with us, but weren't able to teach them anything because they came to our 'goodbye everybody' ice cream social at the institute.

Thursday was really relaxed. We dropped all the people being transferred or going home off at the train station in the morning and then headed back to the institute to study, play games, and start working on the video Elder Olsen was going to put together for Elder Carlisle's parents when they came through. We had everybody say nice things about him. It was fun to try to find the classiest spot in the institute and get the perfect shot. The lighting was all wrong, but it was a good try. All the elders left about 4, so I spent a blissful 3 and a half hours alone. I'd forgotten what that felt like. Elder and Sister Anderson were around, but they were doing their own thing. I tried unsuccessfully to get members to our teaches and Swedish class and then wrote in my journal. Wonderful!

On Friday we had a busy day. The highlight of the day was probably the interview with the high school students that started out as 'Where do God's morals come from?' A delicious question, but half the discussion was really not what we should be discussing as missionaries. It was fun nonetheless and we got in the first two lessons. The best part was when the guy breaks and says, 'But there are so many religions! How do you know which one is right?' I love those moments. It helps me feel like our sociological discussions actually do some good and put some of these students on the right track.

Saturday we went to go do service for a less active and ended up having an afternoon barbeque instead. Merg. I was really excited to paint, so the unexpected leisure was unpleasant. That's the second time we've tried to do (outdoor) service on my mission for a less active Swedish woman and it completely backfired. Remember the snail throwing last year? Afterwards we got blåsted by a member, so we couldn't teach our Spanish boys, but we taught a lady on the street right after and gave her the Spanish Book of Mormon we'd brought. The Lord doth provide.

Yesterday was lovely. Sorry the phone call was weird with me being on the bus. It was really good to know everyone is hanging in there. Love you all!

Syster Maxwell

Week 58

Subject: Party week

Hejsan allihopa!

I can't believe it's May already. My birthday is next week! Last week was kind of a bummer week, but there were good things that happened as well. Last Tuesday was a really good day. We went by a lovely lady who was very open to us coming, but explained from the beginning that she doesn't want to feel like she's being taught or that her home is a school. She had bad experiences with Jehovah's Witnesses who came every week whether she wanted them to or not and she didn't like the learning environment they created, so now we can't teach her, but we're welcome to come and talk about Jesus generally :) Mostly she just needs a friend. We're still really hopeful for her because she really wants to come to church and be a part of a community. She was also a member referral, so that's a plus as well. She has a really hard background with years of abuse and being overworked. It's sad, but she's lovely.

We then had our first meeting with, H, an inactive 23 year old who misses the church and wants to come back but is afraid of the changes he will have to make. It was a really positive experience the first time and then he came to the Institute for the activity on Friday and then we met with him again yesterday. It was wonderful. It was one of those teaches where everything fell into place. Brick wall, brick wall, spiritual breakthrough. Sis Jenson was inspired to challenge him to pray. I was inspired to quote a song we'd been listening to earlier, and Sis Jenson had wanted to play him another song, so she'd brought her iPod. The song I had thought of was perfect. It all worked out in a way we hadn't expected and in the end he said a prayer for the first time in 5 years. It was cool to be a part of. Of course this description doesn't do the Spirit that we felt justice. That was the coolest part.

Last Wednesday we met with the drunk we'd met on the street. He was sober! I was pretty sure he wasn't when I made the appointment. We'll see how that goes...

On Thursday we were privileged to be a part of a baptism in Borås. I love being the only one that can play the piano! :) It was a beautiful experience. It was at a nursing home, so he was baptized in the pool. The water went up to their chests, so there was no question about if he'd gone all the way under or not. Every baptismal service is a miracle and I always come away feeling uplifted and grateful for the opportunity to be a missionary.

At the Institute activity on Friday we had 7 or so investigators come. Two of them were people I'd contacted 2 months or more ago and have been trying to get them there. Miracle of the day! There weren't that many members there at first, but they all trickled in. It was so much fun! We played kubb and then ate treats. The weather was beautiful and everybody had a good time.

Saturday was Valborg again. No bonfire this year, but we watched the parade the local college (Chalmers) puts on every year. It was wonderfully political with plenty of social commentary which we didn't get because we aren't Swedish. It was fun :)

Sunday was awesome because C got up and bore his testimony of his own accord and got the Aaronic Priesthood. We also remembered that our new bishop speaks French, so he can counsel with F, the one who doesn’t really speak English very well. We were really, really excited. We started tutoring F in English yesterday and it went surprisingly well. We were grateful to help him in some way.

Yesterday were transfer calls. I'm staying here! Sis Brown is coming. She was in sis Jenson's MTC group, and I'm excited about her coming. It should be an awesome last transfer!!!

Well, looks like this last week was not so bad after all :) I'm so happy to be here, and I'm so happy summer is coming. I hope you all are doing well. Happy Mother's Day! Love you all!

Syster Maxwell

Week 56 and 57

Subject: There are feathers in the bushes again

Hello all!

So, I wrote this a week ago and just found it in my drafts! I wondered why Dad said you hadn't gotten much. This week was terrible as far as numbers go, but we've had a good week. We've met a number of interesting people and the weather was terrible, but now it is absolutely beautiful. Therefore, we are happy again. We have loved being just two of us again. We miss Sis Lövgren terribly and often shed a tear or two when we put ketchup on our pasta or walk past the liver paté in the grocery store, but two is so much easier to take care of. It's been good for me and Sis Jenson to finally get to know each other. We also don't feel so self-conscious about our Swedish but have to carry a dictionary around again :)
I forgot to mention that we found a large American foods section at one of the grocery stores here (we were tipped off by a member in the ward. He's from San Jose, actually...). We bought Reese’s, Dr. Pepper, maple syrup, and black beans. I was so excited to find black beans. That's one thing I really did miss when I first got here. I also realized how much I didn't miss anything else. I don't really need to go home, actually. I'm perfectly happy here. I've even started using the deodorant. :)

Well, our week started off well with a visit to a man from Gambia who is Muslim by birth, but is seeking the truth with his grown up kids. He was a name left us by the elders, but he hasn't had time to receive visits. We went there, and he started off by talking a lot about his family and then told us that it had taken him a long time, but he'd finished the book they gave him and he thinks it's the right path to follow. Turns out he was talking about the Book of Mormon. His daughter in England has read it and he's giving one to his son as well. The funny thing was that he didn't even know who Joseph Smith was. We left him the Restoration DVD and set up a return appointment. He knows it's true but isn't in a hurry to be baptized. He said we could come once a month. We compromised with once a week if the visits were very short. :)

We met with the Rastafarian man from Barbados we met last week. Turns out he lives in the Elder's area, but he said he'd rather go to church in our ward because it was more acceptable. I'm not going to lie, I want to keep teaching him. He's awesome! He said that everyone has an inner Rastafarian, but many people are afraid to accept it. I was almost convinced to try dreadlocks when I get home :) He talked about how Isaiah 11 prophecies about the Rastafarian way of life. It was a really interesting interpretation and I'm pretty sure not exactly in keeping with what the Bible actually says. He was quoting stuff I've never read before.
We also met a guy contacting who is a member of the Exclusive Brethren. I hadn't heard of them I don't think, but their website is exclusivebrethren.com. He said there are only 400 members in Sweden. He seems to have a very strong faith in Christ, but they take the teachings of Paul about women and their role in church seriously. They have a role, he said, but they don't preach.

C is doing really well. He made a comment in the combined Sunday school yesterday at ward conference about Jesus Christ and asked me when he'd get his membership number because he really wants to pay tithing. He's so great!! He feels great and he looks great. Such a complete change is a miracle.

Well, life is good. We are rallying for the last few weeks of the transfer. We're actually both hoping we'll stay, but we'll see what happens. I hope everyone has a glorious Easter. I don't feel like I can put into words how grateful I am for this opportunity we have to dedicate a weekend to Jesus Christ and his atonement. I hope you all have an opportunity to reflect on it. Love you all!

Amy


Subject: A little sun makes all the difference

Hey all,

So there was a question about how many Swedish investigators I've had. I've actually had quite a few Swedes that I've taught, but most come from other places. C, who just got baptized, is Swedish through and through. Swedes are looking for truth too, turns out.

We had zone conference on Tuesday and it was lovely. I gave a surprise five minute talk (we do that every zone conference, but I hadn't given one yet). I had a feeling it was my turn the day before, so I was ready. I also played the piano and sang for the musical number. Elder Wood and I sang 'The Lord's Prayer'. I heard it for the first time at the MTC. It's beautiful! But the singing was a little rough because we weren't next to the piano and he got behind us, so I cut out on the high part. Oops! Surprise Elder Wood solo! I was also going to talk a little about our recent baptism and following the Spirit, but that got cut because of time. It felt a little like the Sis Maxwell show. I love that!

On Wednesday we went to eat with a part member family. The husband is Swedish and uninterested, but we started our little lesson and it turned into a 45 minute discussion about whether or not the wife could be sealed to the husband because she'd been married in the temple before to a man who didn't keep his covenants, but has since died. There seemed to be a lot of pent up bitterness about the whole thing and I kept wondering how we'd gotten in the middle of this. It worked out ok. We got the Spirit back and felt prompted to make some pretty big promises to him if he'd just try. It was cool.

It's actually been a pretty cool week. We've had some good teaches with a few people who are really positive, but just need a push to get their motivation in the right place.

This week was also a musical number week. I sang and played the piano at the double baptism the zone leaders had yesterday. I sang a Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief and Elder Rowley played the guitar. It was folksy and awesome. We were going to do a dramatic reading for one of the verses, but decided it was a little much. :) Our investigator, E, was there and said he felt a really strong, indescribable feeling when the baptisms were performed. He's our most positive investigator, but he's from Iran and might be moving back there, so he probably can't get baptized anyway, but we'll keep helping him prepare, I suppose.

Yesterday we had a lovely dinner with the Utby and Kungsbacka elders and Elder and Sister Anderson, the couple that work at the center. We felt prompted to go over and visit F, the one who got baptized a month ago. We made him an Easter basket and went to his apartment. He was alone, so we talked to him at the door. It turns out he'd been talking to his wife who wants to divorce him. We all cried together, and we wished so much we could help in some way. We took him with us to dinner and were really glad we had. We hope it cheered him up. He really respects the elders and I hope enjoys our company.

We also got a visit from the Brays!! That was surreal, but really fun. We went to a really nice Greek restaurant and Sis. Bray's re-enactment of your excited to see me hug was perfect, Mom! She did it justice. :) They came to the baptism Sunday morning and then to church and were on their way. It was perfect! Brother Bray said I have a lot of the same mannerisms as you, Mom, so I'm very pleased to know that I haven't totally lost my identity over the years. More and more I feel like I'm regressing to become a 21 year old boy. Yuck! :)

Well, that's the news this week. The weather is beautiful!!! Love you all!

Syster Maxwell