Sadness and Joy

Loved ones,

I'll give you the rundown in real time: 10 minutes ago I read my mother's email telling me about how our family dog died this past weekend. I go to the library bathroom and cry like a child for minutes. I compose myself, return to my computer, and 20 minutes later Sis. Hone tells me she just got accepted to BYU-Idaho. I feel genuinely happy in her behalf.

Everything in its right place.

This week we watched a mormon.org profile (which you should all check out because they would fill my heart with joy even if I weren't a Mormon) with a woman who's gone through some major heartache. At the end of this video (which featured a mother who'd lost her 4 year old son), was this basic message: Life is not fair. But life doesn't have to be fair because God offers us so much more. This life is not the final product of who we are or what we can be. Our happiness is intertwined with sorrow because life is about dealing with it ALL...and then rejoicing in the fact that heartache isn't forever, joy is.

This week was wonderful. Service opportunities were rampant. I want to speak to you all candidly about the real blessings we receive because we have a loving Father in Heaven. I refuse to believe in coincidence, chance, or luck. Refuse. I believe in blessings and I believe that God uses us to uplift and carry others. Intentionally, perfectly. That I get to experience this on some level every day reaffirms to me that I'm where I'm supposed to be.

This week we cleared out the house of a family who's garage burned up during the snowstorm a few weeks ago. Their generator caught fire and they're fortunate to be alive. P.S. the day before the house caught fire, an enormous tree in their front yard fell on and crushed their brand new car. We had to throw away everything that smelled so badly of smoke/was burned that it couldn't be salvaged. It included more of their possessions than not.

As we threw piles upon piles of damaged belongings into a massive trash bin, I thought. A lot. Our cars can get destroyed and our homes can be ashes, but we move on. We are alive. We have one another. The mother of the family told us that we were the answer to her prayers, angels in her life. I don't feel like an angel or a glowing, fiery answer to prayer. But I know that I'm a regular person trying to help other regular people.

Maybe you would never feel sorrow about the loss of a pet. Or maybe you'd never feel relief at going to college in Idaho, but some regular people do. We are here for one another. We literally cannot make it alone. Or, maybe you could, but what a hollow way to live. I believe empathy is the word.

Here's what I know: Bad comes with good. Mortality is not the end. Tender, special joys can be found in everything we experience. Everything.

Love,

Sister GP

Here Is Where I Live!

Love the Washington fog--so cool! I told my Mom that she'd probably want to paint this.

Right after our monster of a snowstorm in January. Total accumulation of frozen whiteness: two feet!

First Set of Missionary Photos

Perfecting my snowball-throwing skills in January. That red car is what they trust us to drive. Except when Granite Falls didn't clear the roads after the big snowstorm...

Sister Hone and I on Christmas morning. My first Christmas away from home, but I sucked it up and did okay.

Our teddy bears are wearing T-shirts that say, "Somebody in Granite Falls loves you." Ahhhhh.

My first companion at the MTC, Sister Driggers.

The infamous map photo that all missionaries pose for while at the MTC. "I'm going here!"

The Good, The Bad, and The Head-Scratching Moments of What People Will Say

Fact: when you wear this nametag, people use it as a sign to divulge interesting details of their life. This week, without solicitation, I've been told:

1. I just got out of jail and my wife is dead.

2. I ripped open my [edited for content] in a freak motocross accident.

3. I spent all of last night listening to Whitney Houston. Her albums just make me feel "one" with her now that she's gone.

I'll let you ponder on those for a minute.

At so many points during the week I think, "oh! I need to remember that for the weekly email! People will laugh/cry/enjoy." And then it comes to email time and I'm at a loss for words. Gross. I'm going to start leaving myself figurative breadcrumbs in my daily planner so that this mind-blank atrocity doesn't happen again.

I don't have any hugely uplifting anecdotes from this past week, other than to say the work and the love move forward. I just wrote a good friend of mine that "no news on the mission is good news." I could tell you about the missionary-esque details of my life, but it would read more like a travelogue than you'd care to read. Basically, I have a lot of cool things happen to me everyday and sometimes all the coolness gets muddled together into a cool mass. Was that last sentence written by a 14 year old girl? Yes.

Oh! This week, everyone should know that my mother sent me a Valentine's Day package containing a handmade card. Don't worry that it contained multiple pictures of Robert Pattinson/Edward Cullen. I laughed for minutes. A public thanks to you, mom.

(Mother's Editorial Comment #1 -- For the record, there were only two photos of Edward/Rob in that card. Also, she forgot to mention the delicious homemade oatmeal cookies that were included in that same package. I'll forgive her for now...)

Final thought: We had a conversation with a woman last night while eating dinner. She talked about how all of life's challenges funnel us to the place we're supposed to be. She made a comment that, basically, if everything (job, marriage, faith) had worked out like she planned, she never wouldn't be sitting with us in that moment. I think about moments a lot.

I think about how, if my plans in the like 2 years or so had worked out like I planned, I wouldn't be absolutely blessed to meet the people I'm meeting. People say that when one door closes, another opens. I believe that when one door closes, not only does another one open, but it opens to a room of wonderful individuals, just waiting to meet, befriend, and love you. No schmaltz involved. We can focus on what we've lost on botched plans OR we can take a look at all of the people waiting to make our life fuller, richer, and more meaningful. Appreciate those moments and the people basking in them with you.

I love you all more than you know. I think about what you're doing, if you're ok. How you're changing and growing and becoming better than you were yesterday. That's all of you, not just my family. Be well. God's making provisions for you right.this.minute.

Love,

Sister G.

(Mother's Editorial Comment #2 -- Sister G sent some photos to share on the blog. As soon as I figure out how to upload those, you'll see them first here!)

Toothaches and Chaotic Religion

Hello, friends and family!

First order of business: this week, in a strange twist of irony, I found out about Whitney Houston's death whilst under the influence of prescribed narcotics (too soon?). It went a little like this:

At the beginning of last week, a chunk of my lower gum swelled and my back molar started to ache like crazy. After a couple days of that nonsense, I called the dentist in our congregation, described my pain, and set an appointment for this past Monday. To manage the constant pain until I could get in to see him, he prescribed me Lortab. Yikes! To imagine what I was like on the stuff, imagine someone marijuaned out of their mind. Quite a sight. Songs were sung. Words were slurred. No video evidence exists, I hope. Anyway, Monday comes around and I'm at the dentist's office. He does all these tests to see what could be wrong with my tooth/gum area because nothing is visibly awry. He takes x-rays, the whole bit. Nothing. UNTIL, he takes his pointy-hooked instrument and roots around my gum area. Blood flows like wine. And then he exclaims, "Oh sick!" and pulls out a giant popcorn kernel. The thing had lodged itself in between my gum and my tooth and had been there, I presume, for about a week. Bingo! I felt ridiculous, but look ma, no more pain!

But seriously, I'm sad about Whitney.

In joyful news, this week I mowed a lawn for the first time ever! On a riding mower! AND I tilled a garden with an electric tiller. Call me Sister Deere.

Also, this past week was zone conference, where we got to hear from our mission president and his wife. Her message is what I want to leave you with...

There are SOOO many people we meet on a regular basis that tell us, "I don't do organized religion." I want to ask them, "do you believe in chaotic/halfway religion?"

Here's the point: any good parent prepares their young children with every needful thing when they go on a trip. Why would God be any different? Why would He send us to earth without any roadmap or organization? He wouldn't. Sis. Wilson put it so beautifully when she said that if she were looking for God's Church on the earth today, she'd look for the most organized establishment possible, with the fullest amount of blessings and provisions available. You don't send a toddler to Nairobi with a bobby pin and a piece of cheese. God wouldn't send us here to muddle through with "unorganized religion" and mediocre instructions. He loves us more than to leave us in the lurch.

This week marked my 3rd month on the mission, and because they scheduled me to go home almost a month before my 18th month mark, you get to enjoy 14 more months of this beautiful prose. Congratulations! Buckle up, people, I've only just begun.

Have a stellar week, my friends!

Love,

Sister G.P.

Oh, The Fun We Have!!

Warm (literally!) greetings to everyone! For the last 4 days it hasn't rained once. The sun has been out all day with little to no cloud-cover. Temperatures peak in the low 60s. I make this point from the very beginning because it's HUGE. Mood improvement, less fatigue, friendlier people in general. Good times!! And significant gratitude for the fact that my hometown looks like this 300 days out of the year.

This week I sent my camera's SD card home to the parentals, so y'all should see some pictures on this blog soon. Laughter will, no doubt, ensue. I wish I could tell you a five-minute story about every single person I've photographed, but alas, time is not on my side. Stories when I get home? Very yes.

In "Good Always Triumphs Over Evil" news, the Giants won the Super Bowl!! I bet that grimace of defeat fits nicely on Tom Brady's bum-chin face. But I digress...

This week on "As the Granite Falls Churn," domestic violence occurred outside our apartment. I know what you're thinking. "Sister G, this is not appropriate blog fodder. Domestic disputes aren't funny." In this context, oh heck yes, they are.

Picture it: It's approximately 9 pm and we're inside studying. When all of the sudden we hear these blood-curdling cries from across the street. "Weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth" is a spot-on description. When Detective Hone cracks the door to see what sadness is unfolding, she spies a woman on the street corner, hysterically in tears. Being the good soul that she is, she says, "Goodpaster, we've got to go help this woman. We've got to do something." So we put on shoes and coats and head out the door. From out of nowhere, this man crawls out of our neighbor's bush and walks hurriedly down the street, in the opposite direction of said woman. When she spies him, she takes off after him like a bat out of hello dolly. Upon catching him, she jumps on his back and starts WAILING on him with fists of fury and spitting all manner of profanity. Honedog and I look at each other like "What the...?!" I immediately think, "Should I call the cops? Do we snag our pepper spray and break this up? Do we laugh because this completely bizzaro situation is happening 10 feet from us? Does this woman have a weapon and we're about to witness a murder?" The man then sits on the ground, head in his hands, bawling. It becomes clear that both individuals are super drunk. They appear to settle the situation and said man walks off. Worry subsides and we head in. Twenty minutes later, we hear the same woman (I've named her "Theresa" for narrative purposes) wailing in the streets, "QUINNNNNN!!! (or maybe) CLLLINNNTTTTTTT!!!!" We rush to our upstairs window to see her stumbling up and down the streets before she walks into our post office. At this point it's approaching our bedtime and we figure Theresa is done for the night. Also, our guts hurt from all the laughter.

Moral of the Story: alcohol has the potential to make you look like the fool in the town square. Also, when drama that belongs on an episode of Cops happens outside your door, the best vantage point is from above. To redeem myself and let you know that watching Granite Falls drunkards wasn't the only important thing to happen this week, I'll share something uplifting. It is simple, but it confirmed to me that one good choice influences many.

This week we had another lesson with a woman we've been teaching for the last 2 months. She has a daughter who's 7 and can be a handful (probably like most 7 year olds). I don't even remember what we're teaching when she makes this connection: "Sisters, since we've been meeting together, I have more patience. I am a better mother now than I was before." That's when it hit me: the people we teach, and even those we don't, aren't islands. They are connected to hundreds, even thousands of people on a weekly basis. When we influence them for good, it spreads. That love, that charitable/kind/patient attitude seeps into their parenting, friendshipping, everything. The idea isn't to convince people that they, alone, need to be better. Convincing isn't even part of the equation. What means most is helping them see that they have the potential to make EVERYTHING better. But it starts with them. God will help. He always does. But we have to move our feet if we want to be better for everyone else.

The Gospel is amazing. On a daily basis I feel I have a Thanksgiving feast and it's my job to share it with those who think the only food in existence is crackers.

Let's be good, no, BETTER to each other. Your influence reaches farther than you know.

Love,

Sister G.

Red Meat, Baptism and God's Love

Family and friends!!

I have two words that describe this week: red meat. Literally, almost every dinner appointment we had pulled out the big guns and fed us steak and potatoes. We loved every single second of it, but some serious visits to the gym are in order.

As always, I'm loving the work. I'm searching my brain as to what new and exciting information I can share, but this mission is turning my memory into soup...

OH! I had my first baptism this week! An 8 year old girl who Sis. Hone and her other companion had been teaching since before I got to WA. It's pretty groovy to see anyone get baptized, but kids are different. They want to do it because it's right, not because they've sorted everything out into a logical compartment. Fortunately, the Gospel makes complete sense (because, you know, God is a God of order), but there are people who get caught up in technicalities instead of just taking it to the source and waiting for the answer. God is not a drive-thru machine where we shout in our order and pull up to the next window, hoping that some incompetent individual isn't assembling our burger. God wants us to be happy, and He wants to bless us, but we have to DO something, too. Kids just get that. I love it.

Other than that, for the first time this week since I've been here, the temp rose above 45 degrees. This brought indescribable joy to my rain-soaked heart. Also, you people are rock star status at writing me. THANK YOU!! I'd like to share a quick story from one of the letters I received this week. (I hope this person will forgive me, and take this blog shout out as an expression of gratitude). It went something like this:

This friend of mine had had the worst day. She left her purse on the bus in Tallanasty, Florida and missed her class. As she's crying on the bench outside her lecture hall, two sister missionaries approach her. Immediately their countenances change from happiness to concern. They put her at ease with humor and then share a small message about God's love for her. From my understanding, they do not preach to her, but instead they show love and share basic principles about how God is aware of all of us and wants to bless us.

As I read this letter from my dear friend, I had this palpable boost of joy and understanding. I don't know about you people, but God has never answered my prayers with pillars of light or heavenly manifestations. Instead, I know He sends good, genuine people to comfort me. These situations are not by happenstance. Sometimes all we have to do is listen to those small promptings. You may know it as your conscience. I know it as the Holy Ghost. Whatever you call it, it pushes you to do good for others. Follow it. You cannot know how the other person will take it, but that really doesn't matter. One of the things I'm loving most about this mission is that I don't have preach to anybody. There is no "convincing." There are only situations where I, like those missionaries that found my friend, can follow the promptings of the Spirit and help others feel happiness. Beautifully simple when I stop to think about it...

Final thought: this week remember that some of the most profound moments in our life come when we're in the unlikeliest of places. You don't have to be in a church to feel God's love or to share it. Just do your part wherever you are.

Love, peace, and the smell of evergreen trees,

Sister Goodpaster

Snow, Attitude, Happiness

Dear people I love and other blog stalkers,

 

I'll be frank - last week was rough. It snowed basically every single day and we ended up with nearly two feet of snow. Many families in our ward were either snowed in or lost power for days. For the safety of the missionaries, Pres. Wilson asked that we not drive on un-plowed roads. Guess how efficient Granite Falls is at plowing roads that haven't received that much snow since the '60s. If you guessed, "not at all, duh," you're correct.

 

So many people called to make sure we had power and food. By day 3 I was tempted to respond, "we have no food and Sister Hone is looking at me Donner Party Style." My mother will be relieved to know I refrained.

 

Enough of that nonsense, let's talk about happiness.

 

In hilarious happenings this week:
A 4 year old brother and an 8 year old sister are play-fighting after dinner, when suddenly we hear tiny fist hit tiny face. Don't worry, the brother punched the sister and knocked out one of her baby teeth. Sis. Hone and I laughed for literal minutes.

 

Transfers are this week, and as I type Sis. Hone gets a text and tells me that neither of us are leaving G.F. for the next six weeks. REJOICE!! I love this area and these people too much to leave now. At the end of this new transfer, Sis. Hone will have been here six months. If I can follow in those footsteps, I'll be a happy woman.

 

I interrupt this message to share a message of happy birthday wishes to my Aunt Jane. :)

 

Oh! This week our ward got a senior missionary couple added to the mix! Elder and Sister Hunter - from eastern Idaho - 6 grown kids - both lifetime employees of the education system. They are tops and basically feel like our grandma and grandpa.

 

You might chuckle to know that during our interviews this week with Pres. and Sis. Wilson, Pres. Wilson asked Sis. Hone, "how is Sister Goodpaster? She seems...intense." Sis. Hone said she laughed and told him, "no. not at all. she's goofy and she laughs a lot." Just think about me for a hot second. Then think about the word "intense." And just...just...I don't know.,.laugh because the only time I'm intense is when I'm lifting weights at the gym. (p.s. bench press goes up to 55 lbs this week. Pray for my string bean biceps).

 

Here's the good word: your attitude is everything. If my attitude walking out my door every morning is that people think I'm an annoying religion-monger, then that's what I'll be. If I walk out that same door trusting God to put us in the path of those that need my help, people that are happy to see me, then THAT is what I'll find. Amazing results here. Oh, you aren't interested in my religion? Well, you're about to laugh at my joke. There's always some way to leave people happier than you found them. Missionary success is not measured in conversions and quotas. Rather, it is measured in good intentions and joy. My intent is for everyone I meet to think, "I am happier now, even just a bit, than I was before I talked to that girl." Think about Christ. Not everyone agreed with his teachings, nor did they follow them. BUT, he left no one in sadder shape than when he first spoke with them. It is not our place to judge; it is our place to uplift. Everyone.

 

Take some time this week to enjoy the goodness of life. And then pass it along.

 

Love,

Sister G.P.

Miscellaneous Missionary Stuff

Greetings from Washington where anytime (any time?) I see the sunshine I want to leap for joy. About once a day, if we're lucky, it peeks out from behind the clouds to remind us all that it's still technically warming our planet. At least it's courteous, you know?

 

I've reached the point in the mission where every single one of the days is blurring together and by Monday I can't remember anything that happened the previous week. I'm resolving to keep notes in my daily planner like a 50 year old accountant. Pardon me while I adjust my pocket protector. Here's an attempt at recounting the most important parts of last week:

 

-We're eating dinner with a family when the 5 year old says, "sisters, I had blood in my mouth for SEVEN HOURS yesterday." Umm, awesome. Your parents should probably seek medical counsel and/or an exorcist.

-The amount of cat-infested homes here is mind-blowing. Your houses smell like straight-up urine, people. Ask me to help you sanitize; I'd be more than happy.

-Someone (who's daughter is serving in South Korea) told us that Kim Jong Il DIED last month?? I didn't put question marks at the end of that sentence because I'm wondering if this is fact or not. What I am wondering is why in the cuss no one told me about this. Death of dictators, family births, and celebrity gossip are all things I feel like I should be privy to, people!

-A member of our ward calls me "Miami" because, well, I don't know. Maybe because I look like a Latina? Which leads me to my next point...

-In a lesson with this guy he interrupts the conversation to ask me if I was a) a former Catholic and b) a native Portuguese-speaker. Um, no. He also asked me, voice laden with condescending tones, "have you read the whole Bible?" Why yes, sir, I have. Would you care to converse about it? No? You wouldn't because you asked the question in hopes that I hadn't and you'd make me look dumb? Try again, brother.

-You would not believe - or maybe you would - the number of women I meet here who are AMAZING, but married to fools. Note to self: think before you marry.

-There are countless people here who have nothing in the material sense, but hold fast to their faith. Do bad things happen to good people? Yes, but we keep moving forward. We trust that trying times will strengthen us and allow us to foster empathy for people in those situations in the future. Attitude is key.

-I wish I could care about the BCS Championship Bowl, but 'Bama-LSU is equal to watching Stalin and Hitler argue. Go play in your own evil corner and stay out of my college football sandbox, children.

 

In uplifting news, this week's lesson is that it's easy to be fault-finding and negative. It is harder to find the good in people and decide to love them anyway. Am I still sarcastic (in smaller doses) and witty? Yes. But God wants us to be good to one another, even in thought. Nearly every action is prefaced by a thought. If I choose to love (or try to love) those around me in my thoughts, kind words/deeds will follow suit.

Something to get you thinking as you decide how to be more parts positive than negative: Thomas S. Monson wrote, "Let us relish life as we live it, find joy in the journey, and share our love with friends and family. One day each of us will run out of tomorrows."

 

My final thought: there are loads of missionaries who spend their days thinking, "when I get home, life will be good. That's when life will be ideal." Wrong. Start loving now. Start appreciating the beautiful intricacies of life this minute. Don't do what everyone thinks you SHOULD do until the time comes for you to do what you would RATHER be doing. Life and people and experiences aren't to be begrudged. They're to be loved and cherished.

 

I love you all and I cherish the friendships we have. I'm serving this mission one day at a time and trying to love every second. It is hard, but the effort is there nonetheless.

 

Love to everyone,

Sister G.

New Year's Salutations

Dear family, friends, and blog stalkers,

 

New year's salutations!! Once upon a two days ago, Sister Hone and I had a New Years Eve date at Alfy's Pizza (where I tried with all my might to tear my eyes away from the Virginia-Auburn game). We stuffed ourselves full of foul-smelling, but heavenly tasting carbs, went home to down 2 bottles of sparkling grape juice, and were promptly in bed by 10:30. Oh hello, geriatric partying.

 

I want to start off the real portion of this week's letter by giving shoutouts to all of those who've written me in the last 3 weeks. I called you task my first week in the MTC and y'all responded! Bless you. Being away from home for Christmas for the first time was tough, but it was for a good cause so I couldn't ever get into a funk about it. I have the rest of my life to be with the people I love during the holidays, missing 2 Christmases won't kill me - unless an errant egg nog truck runs me over.

 

In hilarious/ridiculous people news, people are fools for the Seahawks here. Knock on my door during a 'Hawks game? Punishable by death. Get a DVR and get over it, people. I'm not here to ruin your life or cut into your sittin' around time - I'm here to brighten your day and tell you God loves you. Perspective, people, perspective.

 

In sickest thing I've ever eaten news, pickled green beans. Stop. The only thing that should be pickled are cucumbers in the process of becoming pickles. I ate one and then, yikes, get that nasty jar away from me, please.

 

In other foodstuffs news, my plan to not gain 100 lbs on this mission is in full swing and working! Did I tell the people of blogspot that Sis. Hone and I are working for our biceps at the Gold's Gym 1.5 blocks from our apartment? Well, we are. Every morning we get up at the crack of early, wipe down all the cardio machines, and then get our fitness on for 25 minutes. We alternate between cardio and...wait for it...weightlifting. I will preface this story by saying that 5 years ago if you saw my attempt at bench pressing anything, you would've laughed yourself into a stupor. The words "juvenile" and "embarrassing" come to mind. Anywho, I would like to note that I am now benching 45 lbs (start small, ok?), 12 times in a row, like it's nothing. Basically, I'm going to look like Gillian Michaels when this is all said and done. Watch out, world!

 

As always, I love the work. People are frustrating and lazy and grouchy and all kinds of negative adjectives, but I keep my chin up. My mother will be proud to know that last week I raked leaves laden with horse manure...and felt pretty cathartic upon completion. The bottom of my sneakers were covered in feces and I was happier than when I started. Change from the "please, don't dirty my hands" jerk I was 2 months ago? Big, HUGE. I love it.

 

Here's my final lesson learned: even if people don't understand why I'm here doing what I'm doing, that's ok. I'm realizing for the first time in my life that I know what I'm doing is right, and that's really all that matters. It has little to do with the technicalties of Mormonism and everything to do with love. I'm here to show my love to God by showing love to others, no matter what. I'm here to communicate God's love for His children, even if they could care less. I'm here to show my love to my friends and family for nurturing my spirituality and supporting my opportunity to serve. Love, people. That's what all this is about. It's a pretty awesome perspective with which to start off the new year, eh?

 

Final thought: holy pregnancies in my family! Jess and Chels at the same time? I love it. What I do not love is the fact that I'm going to miss the first year of both of those little nuggets' lives. Send me an obnoxious amount of pictures.

 

i love you guys. keep living the dream.

love,

sister g.