Because We Have Been Given Much

Bonjour mes amis,

When Brent and I opened our hymn book yesterday to sing the opening song in Sacrament meeting, I experienced de ja vu (I now know exactly what that means and what tense it is...aren't you proud of my linguistic skills?)  The hymn was "Because I Have Been Given Much I Too Must Give"; it was the first hymn we sang on this island...our first sacrament meeting, our first opening hymn, our first attempt at singing in French.  Of course, because I am the person I am, I became emotional; yesterday, I again became a little emotional but for a totally different reason.  This time I was thinking of how much I - we - have been given here on our petite isle and how this mission has blessed our lives, Brent's and mine, and the lives of our family.  To illustrate, let me share a story with you.

Two weeks ago, Brent and I, along with a companionship of sister missionaries, had received an invitation to dinner.  The sister who offered the invitation is divorced with an extremely sad story and has very limited funds.  We worried about accepting the invitation and tried to tell her that we would love to just come for a visit, but not to worry about feeding us.  She was adamant...the invitation was for dinner!  I insisted on bringing a salad and dessert, but we still worried about the burden for her.  Dinner, about a 45 minute drive from our house was to be at 6:00; at 5:00 she called and asked if we could wait until 7:00.  Absolutely; no problem.  When we arrived at 7:00, fresh flowers from her garden graced the humble room and a beautiful table was set.  Brent gave a spiritual message just perfect for her circumstances, and we all sat down to dinner.  She then recounted the story of her day.  She had been expecting some money in the mail that day which would provide dinner, but it didn't arrive; she had nothing to feed us except rice and beans. She set the time back and had a fervent prayer asking for a way to feed the missionaries.  A short while later, a friend knocked at her door with 20 kilos of cut up chicken parts...could she use them?  She told all of this with the warmest, most appreciative smile, never questioning for a moment but that it was all a direct answer to her prayer.  We never doubted either that her prayer had been answered. The chicken was delicious; so tender and flavorful I would have thought it had been simmering for hours; the rice and beans were equally good.  She, and we, have been given much...

Another story to give pause:  Some of the older male Creole members here cannot read. The missionaries make blown-up copies of the sacrament prayers so their wives, whose eyesight needs a little help, can teach their husbands the prayers, making it possible for them to bless the sacrament.  A united effort to accomplish something very meaningful for them, something that might be easily taken for granted in other circumstances.  Again, we have been given much...n'est ce pas? (Haven't we?)

Highlight of the week:  I hope you have realized by now that the highlights and the lowlights are just for fun, not literal.  It is our way of sharing the lighter side of missionary work.

We had a sister missionary leave for home this week, creating a problem because there was no one to replace her yet.  The remaining sister missionaries now work as a threesome until the new sister arrives the middle of May.  The single missionary was having a baptism in her area on Saturday, so Brent and I told her that we would be her companions for the day and all go to the baptism together, leaving the other sisters to work in their area.  After the baptism, when everything was cleaned up, Brent called to her that we were leaving.  We walked to the car; she was still talking.  You know Brent, the tease.  He started the car and began driving out of the parking lot.  We hear her yelling after us, "Hey, attend; attend,"  (Wait; wait.) while running across the parking lot.  Brent drove clear down the road before he turned around to come back for her.  It was hilarious; I know she thought we really forgot her, and she was thirty minutes from home...by car!

Lowlight of the week:  We live in a huge apartment complex that is divided into four sections; each with its own entry, mailboxes, stairs, elevator, etc.  Last week when we came out of our section, the concrete in front of the door was COVERED with cockroaches...huge ones, all dead.  We had to tiptoe around not to step on them.  The sidewalk between each section and the adjoining doorways were all the same, like something out of a horror movie.  Of course we realized that the management had sprayed, causing them to come out in the open to die, but I kept thinking, "Where have they all been before now?" Ugh!  The missionaries said, "How many cockroaches have you seen in your apartment?"  "Two."  "For every cockroach you see, there are twenty that you can't see."  I have been shuddering and peering in every corner ever since!

Photo Gallery:

The primary of St Andre.

In honor of the Samoan missionaries, the elders shortened their ties for  district meeting; I guess the Samoan elders they knew in the MTC wore their ties shorter, sometimes with a ring (red tie) at the bottom of the knot.  Then, of course, they had to do the Hucka.  I have a better picture, with their tongues out, but we'll save you that.

Family Home Evening with a family at the beach.  I know; tough duty!

Sniff, sniff.  Our departing missionaries this week.  The sister has been a constant for us and such a happy part of our experience here.  The Tahitian was a Zone Leader when we came and taught us how to get around, where everything was, how to handle life and missionary work,  and even fixed the lights when we blew the fuse twice in the first week.  The other two are from Madagascar, but arrived in La Reunion, so they had to leave from here.  We had a great Departure Dinner together; a really good group.

This was a hike we took on P-day with President and Sister Adams to a much photographed part of the island called Le Trou de Fer; really spectacular view at the end, but the hike in was equally beautiful.

I couldn't resist snapping these flowers as we hiked along the trail.

Two missionaries who left last month; I wrote about the sister upstairs - remember - all that we had shared along the way.  She and the sister who left last week were companions, and great friends, when we first arrived here.  The Elder on the left was the other half of the Zone Leader companionship who "mothered" us through our arrival.  I don't know what we would have done without them.  The Elder on the right is a current Zone Leader and very valuable right now with so many missionaries leaving and coming.  He keeps us organized.  The missionaries here are wonderful.

Tout est Bien (All is well) in paradise, and, as we said before, we truly have been given much.

A Bientot!

The Castaways

The Gift

I promised myself at this journey's beginning of sharing our experiences with friends and family that I would be honest and forthright about what I was feeling during our missionary days, focusing on the positive but not sugarcoating either; if things were going badly, I would write about it.  Tonight, I am going to open my heart and share, if I am able, the emotional roller coaster of ten days ago, when a dream for our family was realized, and the dreams of many other families were crushed and broken on Boylston Street in Boston.

I have a daughter who shares my passion (former passion, really) for running.  She has been a talented, dedicated runner for years and finally realized her dream of qualifying to join thousands of other runners on Patriot's Day in Boston to pass the grueling test of the 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Copley Square.  We were all so thrilled for her accomplishment; anxious to find ways to share with her our happiness in the realization of something she had worked so hard to achieve and that is a milestone for runners everywhere.  The two other girls in the family immediately began making plans to join their older brother, who lives there, where all together they could scream, cheer, and jump up and down as she ran by.  On Monday, April 15, with butterflies in her stomach, our daughter began her "dream run" from the starting line in Hopkinton into Boston, with two sisters, a brother-in-law, and a brother waiting to yell her number somewhere along the route.  She and I had talked of the rush of coming up Hereford Street and turning the corner onto Boylston, with the thousands of screaming spectators and the sight of the Hancock Building slicing the sky right by the finish line..."almost there, blink back the tears of joy". She was ready, as were many others who were thrilled to be there either to participate by running or participate by supporting the efforts of others.

She had a terrific day, finishing in 3:37.  Her cheering squad had difficulty finding her in the crowd and had lingered too long at Heartbreak Hill, causing them to make a mad dash back to the finish line where they hoped to see her sprint to glory.  They were too late, thankfully, emerging from the subway at 4:09, that awful moment when the celebration of excellence and the strength of the human spirit morphed into a nightmare beyond comprehension.  Our son's phone began ringing immediately, his day with his family was over, time to report for duty.  He took them back to his apartment, quickly grabbed his needed equipment and rushed back in the center of it all.  Gratefully, contact between family members was briefly possible, assuring them that all were safe, but they couldn't see their sister, whose hotel room was in the heart of the lockdown area.  After that, no phone service, no contact, a brother who was gone, telling them only that he had no idea if he would be home in a few hours or a few days.  Luckily, our youngest daughter had the presence of mind to send out a family email informing everyone that all family members were safe.  When Brent and I got the email, we didn't even know the scope of what had happened, only that there had been a disturbance at the finish line.  I can't even imagine watching the horrific video coverage of what happened there without the knowledge that our loved ones were safe...not exactly sure where, but safe.

We received a very precious gift that day, the gift of the safety of our family members; others were not so fortunate and we can not even imagine the horror of that day for them.  I have tried not to dwell, while here, on things I cannot have or cannot control, but I experienced many floods of anguished emotions thinking of how far away I was and how long it would have taken us to get home if things had turned out otherwise, probably three days, best case scenario.  Also, we were unable to talk to our son until after the second suspect was apprehended.  We didn't know what his assignments required or where he was, learning only later that at one point, he had worked 36 hours without a break.  To say it was a difficult week would lessen the significance of those whose week was truly difficult, whose weeks will never the same, whose lives have been changed forever.  But it was a stressful time for us.   I am sure of one thing, and that is that the marathon will both continue, and continue to be a celebration of the acceptance of challenge, of going beyond the finish line, of the importance of cheering others on, of the reality of human goodness, and of the miracle of being a part of life and all that comes with it.

The gift....of life... of love...and of the strength of the human heart.

We love and appreciate you, our family and our friends.

Mom and Dad

Brent and Joan

We're NOT Old!

We're NOT old!

We woke up

We lifted our arms

We moved our knees 

We turned our necks

Everything made the same noise

Crrrrrrraaaaaaaaccccccck!

We came to the conclusion

We are NOT old

We are CRISPY!  (and we are positive, n'est pas?)

Bonjour, bonjour nos chers amis chez nous, (our dear friends at home),

New news today:  we heard there are hoards of locusts on Madagascar; a very popular US magazine had a cover article entitled "Heart of Sharkness" naming La Reunion's west coast as the heart of the most shark attacks, and we traveled in a RAINSTORM on a part of the island - Takamaka - that we discovered holds many world rainfall records, most rain in 24 hours, most rain in 1 hour, etc. etc.  We are still learning many new and interesting facts about our little island here, our home for now.

I am home alone on a quiet Sunday afternoon.  Brent is in Le Port with the District Presidency doing  leadership training, and I am here with a heart overflowing with emotions, so I decided that it was "blog time" once again.  Writing always seems to make my brain realign itself and that is a good thing since "I have finally discovered what's wrong with my brain.  On the LEFT side there is nothing RIGHT, and on the RIGHT side, there is nothing LEFT." (sent to me by a friend?)

I had a missionary experience that engulfed my entire heart yesterday.  Brent and I got up early to get in a quick workout before our day began; I was very focused on an hour's workout...it had been a while.  I saw that some of the missionaries were there, so I waved a cheery "Hello" and started my run up the hill.  About one-half hour later, half way through what I had planned, I topped the hill to again see the missionaries.  I had the distinct impression that MY time was over and that I needed to join them.  Two were sitting on the grass, talking seriously together.  When I came up, one got up and the other, a Tahitian sister, stayed sitting, so I walked over, bent over behind her, put my arms around her, gave her a big hug, and asked, "Ca va bien ma fille?" (How's is it going my girl?)  Shoulders shrug, head tips to the side, I know something is wrong.  I didn't sit down with her, just kept hugging her tightly and talking softly in her ear for several minutes, until her feelings opened up, then I sat down.  She said was feeling inadequate as a missionary because she was not teaching anyone right now and she wasn't feeling the Spirit. The work is so difficult here; our elders and sisters sometimes go a long time between real investigators and they can be very hard on themselves.  We talked, she cried, we talked, she laughed and we discovered together, through the spirit, that there is much more to missionary work than investigators.  What about your influence on other missionaries?  What about your example to the members? The impression you make on the nonmembers who see you daily?  What about family and friends at home that are strengthened by your testimony and willingness to be here?  What do you think  Heavenly Father feels when you get up each morning and go out even though you have no one to see and teach?  Sometimes we all have preconceived ideas of what our role is, what success in that role looks like, and we fail to see all of the surrounding aspects that defines our "real" role.  There is so much more to what we are doing than what we THINK we are doing.  One-half hour on the grass helped me to comprehend - to realign my brain - anew, as to expectations, OUR expectations and the larger plan of Heavenly Father's expectations.  Also, it  reminded me to "never  let something to be done be more important than someone to be loved."  Pres. Monson

Lowlight of the week:  This actually happened a while ago, but I wanted to tell you about it.  The Zone Leaders had to go to the church in St Denis and when they opened the door, water came flooding out everywhere.  They sloshed through four inches of water to open the door of the utility closet, which had water squirting from every seam, to discover that a pipe had broken.  Quick call to Brent who changed his clothes and met them there.  What to do?  First of all, let's turn off the main valve.  Done! and then mopping, using the squeegee, and drying as best they could.  This is the second time in four months this building has been flooded.  Nothing here is carpeted, but the walls had absorbed a lot of water, and Brent was concerned about mold.  Got it all cleaned up, came home, and discovered that he had turned the water off for a whole section of the community! The fire department had to fix it.  Darn those Mormons; it's always something!

Highlight of the week:  After church today we were invited to a dinner at one of the branches.  The invitation came through the sister missionaries in that branch stating that a sister there was hosting a dinner and she wanted us to attend.  We were scheduled to be at another branch that morning, but left quickly after church and sped down the highway to St Denis.  A table for 12 had been set up in the Relief Society room, and the sister, a widow, had prepared all of the food herself:  two appetizers, salad, three main dishes and rice (a staple here with every meal).  We all sat down together, had a blessing on the food and began to enjoy the meal.  Someone asked, "Est-ce que votre anniversaire?"  (Is it you birthday?)  She said "Non, C'est une l'aniversaire de la pretrese du aaron." (No, it is the birthday of the Aaronic Priesthood.)  Have you ever thought of honoring that date with a wonderful meal and special guests?   It will be a lasting memory of the meaning of that day for her.  We love the people here!

Elder Heap enjoying the members after an activity.

One of three newspaper articles here featuring the Mormons.  One always approaches these types of opportunities with a little hesitancy because, after the interview, you're wondering, "What will they print?  Will it be positive?"  We have been very blessed though because all of the articles have been factual and positive.  This one covered an entire page of the paper and explained many important aspects of the church; we were very pleased.

Okay, so WHO KNEW that they made florescent lights in lime green?  The tube was white when we bought it!

I went to St Paul to celebrate the Relief Society Birthday with the sisters there.  The church is on the second floor of a building with a little terrace attached ( you will notice in pictures of the south district meetings, we are always outside; we meet on that terrace).  This was the magnificent sky as we enjoyed dinner together.

The "MOM" in me just can't be denied...Easter basket sacks for the missionaries at district meeting (on the terrace), thanks to someone from home who sent the bags and some US treats to put in them along with a few more treats from La Reunion.

This family came into the church in the last few months.  The brother was so excited at the time of our visit because he would be receiving the Priesthood the next Sunday and could then pass the Sacrament.  The woven coco palm leaves you see behind us are used as awnings for their home.

Joanie learning how to weave awnings.  You can see the dry ones on the right that will be replaced by the fresh ones.

Photo taken at the market.  These, of course, are redfish.  I have never bought any, preferring instead to stick with fresh tuna, swordfish, and marlin.  They are such large fish that I can just tell the vendor how many slices and how thick, then  I don't have to deal with those "eyes" when I get home.

Watching the world go by at the morning market.  You can buy a whole coconut, they punch a hole in the top, and you can drink the coconut milk right on the spot.

Elder Heap with our week's supply of fish, fruits, and vegetables heading for the car.  This is a weekly routine that we really look forward to.  I don't think Lee's will have quite the same ambience, do you?

At home, you are getting ready, in about an hour and a half, to watch the Sunday session of General Conference; here we are approaching the close of a fast Sunday.  We will enjoy conference, in French, in two weeks when the CD's arrive and will go to the chapel on both Saturday and Sunday to view conference together on a big screen TV.  I remember well our experience of six months ago.  This morning, before church, the sister missionaries helped me download Saturday's sessions on a USB drive.  We have a port in our little Yaris and will be able to enjoy the talks in English as we drive around the island before we listen to them in French.  Isn't technology wonderful??????

A bientot

The Castaways