Hello lovelies!
So yesterday was Memorial Day and the libraries were closed. Happy Tuesday emailing! I've been getting some pretty stellar letters from a lot of you recently, and I just wanted to say thank you. That you take the time to write me on an actual piece of paper, put it in an envelope, stamp it, and then put it in your mailbox means more to me than you can know. (Or maybe if you've been a missionary you know.)
A bit of logistical news: today is transfers yet again and Sister Alberts is getting the boot. Actually, "the boot" sounds like a violent/unkind thing, so maybe we'll rephrase and say, "Sister Alberts is getting the bunny slipper out of Monroe." No idea yet who my next companion will be. Bless you, companion surprises.
Oh hey, before I forget: my trainer, Sister Anna Hone, finished her mission and returned home yesterday. This is your blog shout-out, BrieAN-NA. : ) Don't forget me now that you're back in the land of desert sunshine.
Tender moment of the mission so far. So tender, in fact, that I almost feel like a schmaltz for talking about it on a public blog. Either way, here we go... This week, I was SUH-HICK (emphasized version of sick). We're talking so sick, we-didn't-even-go-to-church sick. We're talking in the bathroom, alien noises coming out of my abdomen, collapsed-on-the-commode sick. If you're currently eating, I'm sorry. Anyways, at one point I've just expended all my stomach's contents and it feels like Darth Vader is light sabre-ing my intestines. And then I think, "Prayer. Say a prayer." I do. Then I wait, which is pretty easy to do when you can't lift yourself off the floor and you're praying for relief.
Then the thought comes to me, "Get Sister Alberts. Now."
So I crawl to the bathroom door and start yelling for Sister Alberts.
She comes in and all I can say is "You need to say a prayer, just say a prayer. Please."
So she sits down, rubs my back, and offers the simplest, most genuine prayer I've heard in recent memory.
Immediately, there is peace.
I don't know what you believe about prayer, the power of it, or the lack thereof. But I am certain that when we offer the most basic supplications to God, He not only hears us, He answers us. Sometimes not for awhile. Sometimes instantaneously. I don't believe in coincidence. Was I able to get up after that prayer and shimmy around like Dancing With the Stars? No way. But my stomach stopped feeling like Sigourney Weaver's alien nemesis was trying to break free from it, and I just felt like a solid sense of...calm.
Sometimes I feel bad that I can't send actual, physical manifestations of my testimony/love to you people. Like an actual hug, or a tangible back scratch of support and an "it's going to be okay." This is the best I can do. I hope it's touched you and continues to help you feel like you can go another week. You can do this. I can do this. WE can all do this because there are great people in this world who are willing to forgive the fact that we temporarily smell disgusting and ask God to help us.
I pray for you often. And I trust that it's working. Somehow. Some way.
Love to you all,
Sister Goodpaster
29 May 2012
25 May 2012
Randomness
Friends and Family,
Please enjoy several anecdotes because I can't figure out exactly what I should share this week.
Almost daily I feel like stories are just piling up in my brain -- situations I want to tell you about one-at-a-time, but time doesn't permit. Space in my brain doesn't permit, either. But it's okay. I don't have to share everythingwithyouallatonce. There will be time enough for that.
This week we cleaned our apartment like no apartment's been cleaned before. The thing was starting to get...stale. But then we de-cluttered and I was left feeling pleasantly de-stressed. I feel so much more in-tune to spiritual promptings and inspiration when my space is organized. There is room to think/breathe/ponder.
Breakthrough: this week I realized that, while still interesting and entertaining, I just don't have to have celebrity gossip in my life to feel good/smart/in-the-know. Cultural awareness is still something I'm striving for (which is why I still enjoy a good new update from Mom Goodpaster), but I don't NEED to know. Is this making sense? I hope so. Because my brain is just now comprehending that so much of my pre-mission free time was spent straight-up wasting time. Post mission, no more!
Someone I love told me this at Christmastime:
There are three things you can do with time:
~ Invest it.
~ Spend it.
~ Waste it.
I've been letting that roll around in my head since Christmas. And now I'm finally starting to get it...
Sudden realization: the witty banter percentage in these updates is declining at a staggering rate. And for that, I apologize. Because I feel like spiritually-uplifting messages can intermingle with humor.
Follow-up realization: I live on the west coast and no one has served us fish for dinner yet. I feel this is an unfortunate fact. The Puget (one of my least favorite words) Sound is, like, two skips and a leap from us. Someone feed me a crustacean, please!
Final realization, for this email anyway: This has been scattered, but I hope you all know how much I love you people. Yes, you, YOU reading this at 2 a.m. on a Thursday because you can't sleep and no other book is working to put you to sleep, so you're reading these terrible blog posts of some Mormon missionary in Washington because maybe then....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Yes, I love you, too.
Love yourself.
Love God, even when He feels far from you.
Love even that moment when you wake up in the morning and realize, "Sweet beautiful awesome, a new day! And I get to go out and live in it!"
With precipitation and love,
Sister GP
Please enjoy several anecdotes because I can't figure out exactly what I should share this week.
Almost daily I feel like stories are just piling up in my brain -- situations I want to tell you about one-at-a-time, but time doesn't permit. Space in my brain doesn't permit, either. But it's okay. I don't have to share everythingwithyouallatonce. There will be time enough for that.
This week we cleaned our apartment like no apartment's been cleaned before. The thing was starting to get...stale. But then we de-cluttered and I was left feeling pleasantly de-stressed. I feel so much more in-tune to spiritual promptings and inspiration when my space is organized. There is room to think/breathe/ponder.
Breakthrough: this week I realized that, while still interesting and entertaining, I just don't have to have celebrity gossip in my life to feel good/smart/in-the-know. Cultural awareness is still something I'm striving for (which is why I still enjoy a good new update from Mom Goodpaster), but I don't NEED to know. Is this making sense? I hope so. Because my brain is just now comprehending that so much of my pre-mission free time was spent straight-up wasting time. Post mission, no more!
Someone I love told me this at Christmastime:
There are three things you can do with time:
~ Invest it.
~ Spend it.
~ Waste it.
I've been letting that roll around in my head since Christmas. And now I'm finally starting to get it...
Sudden realization: the witty banter percentage in these updates is declining at a staggering rate. And for that, I apologize. Because I feel like spiritually-uplifting messages can intermingle with humor.
Follow-up realization: I live on the west coast and no one has served us fish for dinner yet. I feel this is an unfortunate fact. The Puget (one of my least favorite words) Sound is, like, two skips and a leap from us. Someone feed me a crustacean, please!
Final realization, for this email anyway: This has been scattered, but I hope you all know how much I love you people. Yes, you, YOU reading this at 2 a.m. on a Thursday because you can't sleep and no other book is working to put you to sleep, so you're reading these terrible blog posts of some Mormon missionary in Washington because maybe then....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Yes, I love you, too.
Love yourself.
Love God, even when He feels far from you.
Love even that moment when you wake up in the morning and realize, "Sweet beautiful awesome, a new day! And I get to go out and live in it!"
With precipitation and love,
Sister GP
15 May 2012
Difficult, But Worth It
So many things I want to say and not nearly enough time to say them all.
Ready. Set. Go.
I'm sure Mom Goodpaster, by now, informed the Facebook world that I Skyped with my parents on Sunday, Mother's Day. Technological goodness, people. Here's something I learned after I got off the phonecomputer with them:
Supportive, loving family makes all the difference when you're doing hard things. Every once in a while I'd look at them as they were talking and just...take a lot of comfort in the fact that I've got a mom and a dad who are just straight-up good human beings.
So much gratitude is in order.
Today our district hiked to Wallace Falls. The hike was more strenuous than I presumed and, no lie, I felt like I had about 500 more pounds attached to my bod than I do. By hike's end I told Sis. Alberts I felt like I was on one of those reality TV weight-loss shows ala Biggest Loser and I needed her to yell something awful like, "You can be fat the rest of your life or you can finish this hike strong!" at me for motivation (and subsequent laughs).
But I digress.
And then, as per usual, I realized something bigger out of all the sweat and dirt trail goodness I was climbing in.
Number One: it does not make you a weak individual if you are weak at something. So many people get so frustrated with the Gospel because they are weak at something. Then they quit altogether. About 75 times throughout this trek I wanted to throw a toddler tantrum and go, "You know what people? I'm done! I can't hike 10 miles uphill in 80 degree weather. I'm done. See you at the bottom."
And then I said to myself, "Self. Pull your bootstraps up. You won't grow by whining. If you have to stop every six seconds, do it. But you don't quit. Move forward."
Number Two: giving up what we want at the moment is usually always worth getting what we need in the future. Cliche because it's true. The falls/views at the top of the mountain were out-of-this-planet gorgeous. What I wanted for those 10 bajillion miles leading up to it was a cheeseburger and a tall glass of Vernor's ginger ale. But I traded it for doing something uncomfortable and very, very rewarding.
I don't want this to sound like a commercial for Jillian Michaels's newest bootcamp show.
I do, however, want you to think about what you might be missing out on because you're not willing to do what's temporarily awkward/uncomfortable/strenuous.
Spiritually, physically, all of the above.
This week is as good as any to stretch yourself and remember, as always, that you're stronger than you think you are.
Love and sunshiney bliss,
Sister Goodpaster
Ready. Set. Go.
I'm sure Mom Goodpaster, by now, informed the Facebook world that I Skyped with my parents on Sunday, Mother's Day. Technological goodness, people. Here's something I learned after I got off the phonecomputer with them:
Supportive, loving family makes all the difference when you're doing hard things. Every once in a while I'd look at them as they were talking and just...take a lot of comfort in the fact that I've got a mom and a dad who are just straight-up good human beings.
So much gratitude is in order.
Today our district hiked to Wallace Falls. The hike was more strenuous than I presumed and, no lie, I felt like I had about 500 more pounds attached to my bod than I do. By hike's end I told Sis. Alberts I felt like I was on one of those reality TV weight-loss shows ala Biggest Loser and I needed her to yell something awful like, "You can be fat the rest of your life or you can finish this hike strong!" at me for motivation (and subsequent laughs).
But I digress.
And then, as per usual, I realized something bigger out of all the sweat and dirt trail goodness I was climbing in.
Number One: it does not make you a weak individual if you are weak at something. So many people get so frustrated with the Gospel because they are weak at something. Then they quit altogether. About 75 times throughout this trek I wanted to throw a toddler tantrum and go, "You know what people? I'm done! I can't hike 10 miles uphill in 80 degree weather. I'm done. See you at the bottom."
And then I said to myself, "Self. Pull your bootstraps up. You won't grow by whining. If you have to stop every six seconds, do it. But you don't quit. Move forward."
Number Two: giving up what we want at the moment is usually always worth getting what we need in the future. Cliche because it's true. The falls/views at the top of the mountain were out-of-this-planet gorgeous. What I wanted for those 10 bajillion miles leading up to it was a cheeseburger and a tall glass of Vernor's ginger ale. But I traded it for doing something uncomfortable and very, very rewarding.
I don't want this to sound like a commercial for Jillian Michaels's newest bootcamp show.
I do, however, want you to think about what you might be missing out on because you're not willing to do what's temporarily awkward/uncomfortable/strenuous.
Spiritually, physically, all of the above.
This week is as good as any to stretch yourself and remember, as always, that you're stronger than you think you are.
Love and sunshiney bliss,
Sister Goodpaster
07 May 2012
Simplicity
Hello!
This week, I'm keeping it short and sweet, compadres.
The sun is out and my corner of Washington is bathed in joy.
I hope you all know how much I enjoy what I'm doing.
And I hope that you're loving your family and friends. Like, verbally, actually telling them you love them. Not just assuming they know.
Sometimes everything I garner in a week boils down to the basics.
I hope you know that there's a God in Heaven who hears you and loves you and cares about what you care about.
I meet a lot of people who just hope God is real because, oh my chaos, life's GOT to be about more than the 70+/- years we live and then we turn into space trash and particle dust.
It's nice to hope for things.
But I prefer to know them.
And we can. We can know for ourselves if God is really listening. If He cares. If He's there.
Ask.
Listen.
Be willing to move your feet/attitude/heart.
With so much love,
Sister Goodpaster
This week, I'm keeping it short and sweet, compadres.
The sun is out and my corner of Washington is bathed in joy.
I hope you all know how much I enjoy what I'm doing.
And I hope that you're loving your family and friends. Like, verbally, actually telling them you love them. Not just assuming they know.
Sometimes everything I garner in a week boils down to the basics.
I hope you know that there's a God in Heaven who hears you and loves you and cares about what you care about.
I meet a lot of people who just hope God is real because, oh my chaos, life's GOT to be about more than the 70+/- years we live and then we turn into space trash and particle dust.
It's nice to hope for things.
But I prefer to know them.
And we can. We can know for ourselves if God is really listening. If He cares. If He's there.
Ask.
Listen.
Be willing to move your feet/attitude/heart.
With so much love,
Sister Goodpaster
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