I'm still good. .... I didn't think enough before composing this letter. I don't really know what to write about this week. Our plans for almost every day were destroyed by splits with the zone leaders, assignments from the Assistants to the President, and multiple trips, of an hour each way, to the airport. Actually, the most vivid memory from this week was of the airport. Elder Black (whom I love more and more each day - as a side note, he said munchings and crunchings yesterday, which I thought you would appreciate) and I were sent to pick up a brand new Taiwanese missionary, coming from the Manila MTC. His flight was delayed several times and his plane arrived very late. We arrived at the airport, and heard an announcement telling us (we thought) that his luggage would be at belt 34. We waited at belt 34 for 35 minutes after his plane had landed before we came to the startling realization that there was no luggage on that belt at all. We remembered a fact that we somehow had heard but not processed the first time: that we actually needed to wait at belt 35. Belt 35 was halfway across the airport. We panicked, in the most dignified manner we could muster, over to the correct belt, where we discovered that the last pieces of luggage had just been moved off the belt by airport staff to make room for the flight that had just landed. No one was coming through the gate, and there was no one else to welcome passengers from that missionary's flight. I tried not to imagine my head mounted on the wall of President Mains' office, and a poor lost Elder roaming the Singapore airport for a week.
Just as I was browsing the prices of one-way tickets to Guam, our Elder appeared to claim his luggage. It turns out that he had just been very late getting off the plane, a little lost in the airport, and slow through immigration security. Elder Black and I waved him down and directed him to our gate. As he came through, we hugged him earnestly, and told him how happy we were to see him, although he had no idea just how happy we were.
Even though he had no idea what to do in the airport, (just like me) God was watching over him and blessed him, especially through immigration security. I know God is willing to bless us if we put our trust in him. This came especially powerfully to me as I read Alma 38:5. I thought, 10% trust in the Lord = 10% deliverance. 90% trust = 90% deliverance. My goal this week is to find ways to express my 100% trust in the Lord's power, and lean not unto mine own understanding. As I do this, and as anyone does this, I know that He will give us 100% deliverance.
Love to you all!
P.S. My Chinese name is Xiong, said Shiong, and moving your voice from low to high tone, as if asking a question. It means bear. Chinese people think it's funny that my name is bear, and it's even funnier that my name really is Baer. Most Chinese elders get a name that is phonetically chosen. Fronk is Fang, Fabiano is Fang, Fredricksen is . . . Fang. Wadsworth is Wang, etc.
I don't have a first name yet.
|That was a good cheese stick!|