Prayer

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