January 24, 2022
From Ben: Growth as a Group
Week number one in Weston.
It's so different from Timmins
Some differences being positive and some being negative.
The apartment is remarkably smaller than The Lodge, but it's kinda cute, so it almost balances.
Got a good Ol' kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom and study room.
A solid abode to return to after a good day's work.
The shower however, is dooky. Real dooky.
Whilst enjoying a beautiful warm shower, in an instant, glacier cold spray will drench the entirety of my back.
Suppressing a scream, my whole body reflexively launches itself into the small corner of the shower where there is safety, and there I wait huddled until the water returns back to normalcy.
When so, with a some fear and hesitance I proceed to start shampooing and washing my hair.
But unexpectedly! The nice refreshing H²O alchemizes into molten magma onto the crown of my head.
Resisting the urge to die on the spot, I leap away from the liquid fire back into into my 1 foot² corner of safety, the shampoo, at this point, resting in my eyes.
When again the shower calms down, surprised that I still have hair to wash, I don't risk anything, blitz the remainder of my shower in 3 seconds, then dive out of the shower before any more surprises.
Our shower is dooky.
There is a lot more diversity in Toronto compared to Timmins.
With Jamaicans, Nigerians, Mexicans, Filipinos, Ukrainians, Lithuanians, Americans, and Albertans, there is a solid spectrum of individuals.
And its so fun
A member from Uruguay, with a free personality, commented in our first conversation that I had a big head and mimicked a bobble-head figurine to illustrate his point.
It was of course true, so I just smiled and shook his hand.
The ward members are so great.
Elders Quorum just yesterday was something to behold.
At the hour, when things were supposed to wrap up, a visitor in the back stood up and started preaching about the role of the Holy Ghost and the role fate plays in the world.
It's possible he was rebuking some of the Elders Quorum for some of the wild comments they had made during the lesson, which was about God's love.
But why not?
I'm not going to lie, during the lesson there were a couple moments where I also was a bit curious at the nature of some of the comments made. And when the visitor gave his sermon, I was a bit uncomfortable.
But to some degree, that's part of the reason church exists.
To bring imperfect individuals who are all striving to meet a Godly standard together, and have them learn, together, to love, to simplify, to respect each other, to have patience.
So while we sincerely attempt to curb deep-doctrine discussion, and solo brimstone sermons, when it does happen, it's also an opportunity to be apart of the growth process of others.
And we need to have patience, because when it's our turn to make our individual contribution to the room's imperfections, we just ask that others have the same kindness for us.
Learning to talk to people is always going to be an adventure, golly.
Every morning I wake up I have to re-learn, and re-gain confidence in the fact that I can do it that day.
Sometimes it's a cinch, others it's a process.
But a couple of cool moments this week during street contacting was...
1) A conversation with a Pentacostal that went way too fast. I offered him a Book of Mormon, and with amazing kindness he rejected it. It was a great discussion.
2) Meeting a Spanish family on the bus and going through a difficult process of communicating despite not knowing a lick of what each other was saying.
We did get their number and referred them to the Spanish Elders, but couldn't help much beyond that.
3) Getting examined and questioned by a stylin' Muslim man who got us on the question of what were Matthew, Mark, and Luke's last names.
It's always an adventure.
One of the super cool moments this week was during a lesson with a member.
She is from Nigeria, and we asked her about her conversion.
One thing she said was about the Church service.
She explained that in Nigeria, church is a loud, exciting activity, with awesome music and boisterous preaching.
And not to throw shade on that style of worship, there is a time and place to dance, to laugh, to feel that excitement.
But.
The Spirit speaks to us by a still, small voice.
She said that she cherished the calm reverence that a quieter service offered.
She thought it was remarkable that average members from the congregation went up to speak, to share their testimonies and their understanding of the Gospel.
And she said something whispered to her that this was the Church she should be apart of.
I really love our imperfect church service.
11-14 years olds passing out the Sacred Sacrement, 14-15 year olds preparing it, 16-18 year olds blessing it, an average Joe called to be the Bishop of a congregation, and average Sally asked to lead a group of women to greater kindness and service.
All with little training and practice.
There is so much beauty in the imperfect people striving to serve their God, and consecrated to do amazing good as they trust in Him.
I loved leading an in-person district council on Thursday.
The members of my district are...
Elders Morphis and Wynder (the Spanish Elders)
Elders Smith and Radford (the AP's)
And Sister Pawlenchuck, Rhoades and Kratka (the STL's)
Praying for each and every one of them individually is really fulfilling.
I love the thought that I have an opportunity to help them recognize their own inherent Divinity and seek to strengthen their missionary efforts.
It's also made me realize that I literally have to practice what I preach.
The whole "Knowledge is a state of being" kind of thing.
I can't ask the members of my district to be more sincere in their prayers, to try other methods of finding, to invite others to baptism, unless I myself am willing to do all those things.
And it doesn't just apply to my district either!
I'm very slowly beginning to understand this better.
There were a couple lessons we taught this week that felt really rote, dry and weak.
And I couldn't figure out why!
In one, we taught the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
We used the scriptures, used personal experience, asked good questions, and taught quite a technically effective lesson.
But when it came to bare sincere testimony, something was missing. It didn't click.
And the current conclusion, and step I feel I need to take to teach with greater power was simply this.
I teach exactly what I am.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ is God's ordained process by which we accept the gift of Salvific mercy, learn Divinity, and gain the heavenly power to be a blessing to the world around us.
I hadn't internalized to the extent that I was speaking from a conscious experience.
If I invite someone to be baptized, and promise them blessings associated with that step, the power of my invitation comes if I cherish the blessings of baptism in my own life, and if I use the gift of the spirit.
I cannot invite others to become more Christlike unless I exemplify those virtues myself.
And while perfection in mortality is an impossibility, excellence and amazing effort is a possibility.
And so for excellence we aim.
It continues to be an adventure
Love you all!
Have a great week!
1) The last meal I ate before we got groceries.
We were in dire straights you could say
2) I saw an awesome watch that I decided to buy, but when I scanned it at the self check out I had to laugh.
3) A GNARLY Terry fox coin I found
4) A randomly bleak day that presented an opportunity to be proactive and find joy despite the dreary
5) What a regular view in our apartment looks like
6) A super colorful day I thought deserved a picture
7) Ah yes. Bussing.
8) Working at the food bank with the ZL's
So here’s the story of how the old van is no longer a part of the Smith Family …
Dad had to drive it somewhere to pick up one of the girls because I had the car. Partway he had to stop and purchase some fluids to keep it going (power steering fluid being the most important). He came home and said, “I think it’s time to get rid of the van.” And I have to give him credit because I’ve been saying that for three years now and Dad’s kept that beast going with prayers, cheap parts and YouTube videos.
On Friday, Dad found a guy who gives cash for old vehicles. Apparently, they take them away, strip them for parts and can make a profit doing it. Everyone wins; we get rid of our van, they make some money. So the guy gives Dad the address somewhere in Nisku and I’m supposed to meet them there. Except GPS brought me to a random field and brought Dad to another random field and after driving around for an hour, we never did find the guy.
Meanwhile, Mia had planned to go swimming with Abbey Lawrence so we drove to the Rec Center and parked the van in the nethermost regions of the parking lot and abandoned it there. Hahaha. (It wasn’t driving too well at this point and Dad didn’t want to go all the way home.)
So get this … Dad called a different guy on Saturday. This guy is willing to go to the Rec Center and pick it up and pay $500, no questions asked. Hm. Sounds too-good-to-be-true but we’re totally okay with leaving it unlocked and the key under the mat if it means someone will take it away for free and we get it off our insurance.
So, on Sunday, you’ll never believe it but $500 appears in our account and the guy messages Dad a thank-you and everything works out. Good thing, too. My tuition is $500 more than I expected.
Of course, it’s sad we have to be suspicious of too-good-to-be-true scenarios. I’m sure Sam told you of his week of getting hacked and scammed. Ugh. Life lessons stink sometimes, but luckily Sam is unbelievably pragmatic and takes these things in stride.
In other news, Grandpa is scheduled for another surgery on Feb 8 to remove a tumour regrowth. It’s honestly too-good-to-be-true that he’s alive and well and that they’re willing to even operate again. He continues to defy predictions. And, well, miracles ARE too good to be true, so there’s that. The entire Gospel of Jesus Christ is unbelievably too-good-to-be-true and maybe that’s why people don’t believe it. We’re hardwired to be suspicious.
And here’s a gorgeous picture of Abby in one is those brief, freakishly beautiful snowstorms.
Because, too good to be true things happen all the time.
Including you.
And my freakishly amazing children.
Love,
Mom
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