Monday, September 17, 2012

Week 11

8! Not 1, not 2, not 3, not even 4! 8! Count them! 8 flat tires in one week! Don't ask me how we managed that, but we did! First we patched up 3 holes. Then we replaced 1 tube. Then we patched a tube again. Then we replaced 3 tubes! My tires should never go flat again. haha I got the fancy tubes that are extra thick and come with slime in them. Plus, they've kind of got a warranty in that, if they do ever go flat, I can call a number and they will replace the tube.
That was the least fun part of the week, but it was funny by the end because it happened so much. On the opposite side of the spectrum, I got to try my hand at bucking hay! A member called us up and asked for our help. We didn't feel the need to change because it was getting close to dark, so we were going to be in after doing this service. Bucking hay in a white shirt and tie. I never thought I would buck hay to begin with, let alone in a white shirt and tie.
A new member in one of the bishoprics got up and spoke yesterday about how old he is getting. He's only 38. That made me start thinking about how old I am getting. I didn't realize it, but I am there. I'm old! Next year I'll be 20...That's hard to imagine. I feel like I could still fit in in a freshman geometry class other than that I would already know everything. Maybe that is what makes you old, knowledge. If I stopped learning I'd stop aging. That must be the answer, right? haha
Being a missionary, we aren't supposed to talk politics, but being in the world, you can't help but know what is going on. I'm going to go on this one semi-political tangent this once, and then you won't hear anything else from me. I'm not doing to be political. I'm doing this because of the inner patriot in me. I have heard this and that about what is going on in Africa and it is quite the depressing situation. Some of us missionaries were getting pizza for lunch at a place called Garbanzo's. They have a tv in there, and that is where I first heard/saw anything about the unrest. CNN was on and they were showing pictures of what was happening in Libya. One of the images showed an American flag on the ground. As old as I am, I've grown up knowing that the flag doesn't belong on the ground. My scoutmaster would share a story from scout camp about one scout, Ric. There was a day they were relaxing in camp when the flagpole they had set up fell over. From the way he tells it, Ric ran over that second and grabbed it and picked it up. I think it might be embelishment, but he says that Ric was barefoot when it happened and he had to run across 50' of wooded forest to get to the flag. Seeing the flag on the ground got me riled up in my mind, but I understood that there wasn't anything I could do to ease the situation. What did I do? I prayed to my Heavenly Father. When it feels like there is nothing else for us to do, that is the one thing that will never cease to be, our ability to pray. We can pray whenever for whatever. He, our heavenly Father, will listen.
One last note on flags and I'll close up shop for the day. Back before heading out on my mission, I had the chance to go to Joshua Tree with a few of my friends. I was blessed with the opportunity to share in the experience of a flag's retirement while there. It was a very special evening. If any of those friends get the chance to read this, I want to thank them for being with me out there. Care for those things you hold dear. Respect and love them. Treat them well.

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