Chapter 4: Primary Program!

There's so much work to do here in Calexico, but at the same time this past week has felt like a whole lot of nothing. We try to contact so many people, but very few answer their doors or phones. Of those that answer, few are interested in having a conversation. Of those that we can actually talk with, few are interested in receiving lessons. Of those that schedule lessons, few actually follow through. And every single one of the few lessons that have happened in Calexico have been in Spanish. In short, I've had to adjust expectations a lot. It's tricky when SO much of what we plan ends up getting cancelled at the last minute, and it's pretty common for us to try and contact a member or progressing friend only to discover that they've moved. I suppose that's often the norm with missionary work, so it's good to get acquainted with that right off the bat. It does make scheduling a lesson a victorious highlight of the week.

This is the beautiful San Diego Temple when I first arrived.
Haven't actually had the opportunity to attend yet, especially as I'm out in the Valley.

We've been trying to organize English, guitar, and Bible classes at the church to start making use of the building throughout the week. No one made it to the English class unfortunately, despite a few interesteds who contacted us, but a cat did turn up! We sat in the foyer waiting for arrivals, and he walked up to the glass doors, peering in at us. He was not the student we were expecting, but we were ready to accept him all the same! However, he ended up running off before we could start him on his ABC's.

Speaking of cats, I fear for the ones around our apartment. They always hang out right behind the cars' tires. Every time a car starts, a small feline form darts out from beneath it. Ah well, I suppose they've survived this long.

Next, I must relay to you the tragedy of Mike. In my first week, my companion and I were making calls when we came to a guy named Mike in our area book. We only had his number and a timeline of previous visits from other elders. It had been a while since any visits happened with him, so we wanted to see if he was still interested. He also spoke English, so my companion passed the phone to me and I excitedly dialed him up. Turns out Mike is super friendly and kind of hard of hearing, so he cheerily shouted into the phone about how he loved meeting with the elders. We chose a day to meet the following week, and just as we were about to put him down in our calendar, he said "Oh no wait, that doesn't work for me" and proposed the next day. This same interaction repeated like 3 more times, farther and farther down the week, Elder McLean and I cracking up more and more with each new reschedule, until we reached Friday on our calendar. At that point I began to wonder if he was pranking us, but we managed to settle on a time and he even began making plans to serve us ice cream! A missionary's dream! He then asked my name, and apparently "Elder Tolman" just couldn't make it to his ears cause what followed was like a 3 minute period of saying and spelling it out, until he said "Elder Herman?" And my companion and I looked at each other, shrugged, and said "Yup, Elder Herman! Sorry about that." I wondered whether I'd have to make some nametag alterations for our meeting. The next Friday rolled around and we realized we didn't actually have his address so we called him again to get that and confirm our appointment for the afternoon. He responded with an enthusiastic "Hey Elder Herman!!" and we had another entertaining conversation. But here's the tragedy. We plugged his address into Google maps afterward and discovered that he's not actually in our area! He lives an hour and a half north of us just outside the border of our mission! We grieved a lot and had to call him back yet again to refer him to other missionaries. We wish him well! 

This past Sunday was the ward's primary program, followed by a luncheon to say goodbye to a family that was moving, so much of our finding and visiting has centered around inviting people to that. One night we went out with the bishop to invite members, and he gave us a mini tour of Calexico. He grew up here, so he had a lot of stories and background information about all of the buildings. I saw the border wall for the first time that evening! It is so much closer to our apartment than I thought it was. There was this huge line of cars on the other side waiting to get into California (bishop said the average wait time was an hour and a half), and it's funny hearing about all the businesses crowded in Mexicali where people go specifically to be outside of the US.

The primary program was a success. Not quite as miraculous a turnout as I hoped, but attendance went up to 65 and one of the nonmembers we invited walked to the chapel that morning to attend! The kids' mannerisms were cute to watch, and partway through one of them called out "Another song??" in exasperation. We all appreciated his sacrifice.

Later on Sunday we did some brief exchanges with the assistants to the president who were dropping by the Valley. Both of the APs were English speaking, so we had to plan my companionship's visits pretty carefully. Those exchanges ended up being filled with small miracles on both ends. I had been really struggling to focus on and enjoy the work I was doing, but going around planning quick messages for our English friends on a shining afternoon reignited my hope, even though we barely got to talk with anyone. I was also feeling very socially inadequate that day, but Elder Mickle, my companion for the afternoon, gave some powerful words of encouragement that helped me move forward. He was an answer to prayer in multiple ways. On Elder McLean and Elder Udall's end, while they were out at a park near a member's house, the member's inactive husband sought them out and, filled with emotion, expressed how much he missed coming to church and how he wanted to put his life back together. Elder McLean and I got to meet with him again yesterday, and we have high hopes for him. I really wish I knew enough Spanish to understand the discussion they had and offer more encouragement.

That difficulty with language has been wearing on me quite a bit. I'm not even close to being conversational in Spanish, and an hour of language study per day hasn't changed a lot. I'm caught between the two equally negative mindsets of "Elder Tolman has it so hard serving without knowing much Spanish" and "pff, Elder Tolman has is so easy being able to take the back seat in most conversations while his companion does the talking". I know this is a God-given opportunity that He can consecrate for my good, but I'm definitely feeling a bit disconnected from the people and longing to be able to teach more. Hopefully by the end of this transfer I'll know enough to bear my testimony in Spanish and refer someone to Spanish missionaries.

Guess what?? I recently learned Elder McLean's middle name! Want to know what it is?? Floyd!! (To those unaware, my MTC companion and I named our favorite tree Floyd back in Provo.) This absolutely delighted me! Though I had to bid Floyd adieu, in small ways, he's still with me.

We had an awesome zone conference where we discussed the role of the Book of Mormon, and it's incredible looking at God's purposes in commanding that it be compiled and sealed away in the earth. Look at Moses 7:62: "And righteousness will I send down out of heaven; and truth will I send forth out of the earth, to bear testimony of mine Only Begotten; his resurrection from the dead; yea, and also the resurrection of all men; and righteousness and truth will I cause to sweep the earth as with a flood, to gather out mine elect from the four quarters of the earth, unto a place which I shall prepare, an Holy City, that my people may gird up their loins, and be looking forth for the time of my coming; for there shall be my tabernacle, and it shall be called Zion, a New Jerusalem." The Book of Mormon ("truth...out of the earth") is a tool to gather together the people that will receive Christ at his second coming, and God's intent is for it to "flood" the earth, giving all the opportunity to accept it, thereby becoming God's "elect". When life feels aimless, it's rejuvenating to look at how God is even now orchestrating mighty works.

God be with you,

Elder Tolman

Chapter 3: Calexico

I'm out of the shallows and into the deep end! Well, the next deep end, anyway. I'm sure there will be many more.

Firstly, there's the last few days of the MTC. That Sunday included some cool experiences, foremost of which was our fast Sunday testimony meeting with our branch, where each missionary bore their testimony in the language they'd be speaking, from Spanish to Japanese to Mandarin. The meeting itself was a witness that the gospel is for all nations, and the spirit is the same wherever it's invited.

Our last devotional with President Porter was an animated one. During his discussion on accessing Heavenly power, he began talking about the importance of having virtuous thoughts, and offered a method of eliminating unclean ones, which was, in a word, *PEW*. Right there on the pulpit in front of hundreds of missionaries he began pulling out little army men and recounting the glorious battles of his youth, describing each soldier's tactical role. The idea was to imagine unclean or negative thoughts as enemies and then energetically blow them up with your mind. He demonstrated, sound effects and all. Once a tank got involved the tech crew obligingly blasted the room with light for each of the explosions. He told us a Sister Missionary once asked him "What if the thoughts just keep coming back?" After a slight pause he pulled out another army man, this one like a foot tall, plopped it down on the podium and said "Go big or go home." While I do think that message has the danger of conveying to someone "You're just not trying hard enough," (not a helpful thing to say), I appreciated the comedy. Good stuff.

Also, with it being my last opportunity, I did my duty afterward and gave President Porter his hug. I will not be hunted down and kicked. Apparently some Elders once entered a member's house in another state where they were triumphantly joking with each other about how they avoided hugging President Porter, who unbeknownst to them happened to be the member's father. The member made a phone call afterward, and the next time the Elders visited, they each received a kick in the shin. President Porter lovingly rules by fear.

The rest is a blur. We watched a fiery MTC-exclusive devotional from Elder Holland where he DEMANDED that we use our mission opportunity to its fullest, had one last practice Teaching Opportunity which went pretty well (confidence in teaching is going up), packed up, got up early on Tuesday morning, bade Floyd the tree goodbye, and were off to the airport. Tragically, the Tuesday evening devotional we barely missed just HAPPENED to be Elder and Sister Rasband. Oh well. :(

I was pretty spooked when I first arrived in San Diego. It is way more hilly and dense than I imagined it being, and it was a day of low overcast, giving me the impression of a foggy jungle. Arriving at the mission office with no idea how anything worked, having to wait a few hours for the trainers and more new missionaries to arrive had my nerves a bit high. Didn't help when I was eventually surrounded by seasoned missionaries, all with close relationships. The sheer amount of things I knew I would have to learn was definitely looming over me, and I wanted nothing more than to be around people I knew again.

The mission leaders reveal assignments in a dramatic fashion, first having a trainer present their area, then after a drumroll, showing the new missionary's picture on a slide. As the different areas were presented, I noted that some were English and some were Spanish (one was actually Arabic!), so being an English speaking missionary, I sat there getting more tense with each English area and relaxing with each Spanish area. After quite a long while, Elder McLean went up and presented Calexico, the southmost area in the most distant zone, literally right up against the border. "Be ready to speak a lot of Spanish" was one of the main things he said. Just as I was beginning to think "Guess I'll be the next area" Elder McLean said "and I think there's only one Elder left who hasn't been assigned an area." Yeah...I went pale. On the inside, at least. There my picture was, up on the screen. English speaking. Spanish area. I couldn't help but wonder whether there had been some sort of mistake. To those of you who are familiar with Ben-Hur, I felt a bit like Judah being taken out of his prison cell for his sentence. "Tyrus? I've had no trial! I'm to be sent to the galleys without a trial?!" But that was that. For clarification, I am still technically considered an English speaking missionary. Not sure whether that's going to change. But for the time being, I'm WAY out of my depth, and I'm having to scramble to start picking up on Spanish. 

The San Diego California mission has many merits, and two of those are President and Sister Merritt (teehee). I'm grateful for having them as our mission leaders. They have a devoted love for us, they've offered me support already, and though strict, they're very reasonable. Since Calexico is about a 2-hour drive from San Diego and orientation at the mission office was going to be the following Thursday, my companion and I spent a couple nights at the Merritt's house and did a bunch of finding on the day in-between. Funnily enough, we were invited in to teach a lesson on the very first door we knocked. The family only spoke Spanish, so all I could do was greet them and sit next to my companion, smiling and nodding. I've had to get used to doing that a lot, unfortunately. I feel bad for my companion that I can't be much of a support to him in those situations.

Elder McLean is great. He happens to be district leader in Calexico and is very welcoming. I appreciate the contrast of having a friendly trainer after feeling a bit disconnected and aimless at times in the MTC. Nonetheless, I felt a pretty overwhelming sense of loneliness entering Calexico, having that language barrier there between me and many of the people. Thankfully, one of the first things we did when we arrived was meet the ward council (who speak English) and discuss weekly activities we could organize at the church building. Sitting there in the foyer with friendly members alleviated some of the initial stress I was feeling. Even out here, I could feel at home in Christ's church.

Speaking of the members, turns out I'm not just on a mission. I'm on a rescue mission. Ever since COVID-19, this whole stake has been struggling. In our ward alone, church attendance went from over 100 to only around 30 because of the lockdown. As a zone, we need to get 400 baptisms, or this stake will be combined with one in Arizona (which would be rough for everyone). It's one of those cases where the task before us seems unreachable, but we need to remember that through our faith, God can accomplish anything He needs to. And for whatever reason He believes I have something to contribute here.

Quick side note: our apartment in Calexico is surrounded by stray cats! Apparently one of our neighbors won't stop feeding them. That made me smile when we first arrived.

Elder McLean, the sister missionaries in our area, and I were all assigned to give talks this past Sunday, so with my companion's help I got to prepare a little blurb in Spanish, and I followed that with my testimony in English (shared Ether 12:27, which felt very appropriate to my predicament). The other 3 missionaries, being fluent in Spanish, gave longer talks, so I guess that made me the youth speaker!😆 The bishop complimented my accent afterward, so there's that. We had about 42 people there that day, which was good to see. My understanding is that about 75% of the ward is Spanish-speaking.

We've been doing a lot of door-to-door finding, doorstep visits, and calls. We try to schedule visits each day, but most of them fall through in our zone. I haven't actually been able to teach a single lesson with my companion. BUT, from Sunday afternoon to Monday morning, we did exchanges with the zone leaders farther north in El Centro, and that was a relief. I got to teach 2 lessons that day! With Elder Clifford's help, I felt inspired to share Mosiah 24 with a struggling friend named Paul and we discussed how faith in God can strengthen us to bear our burdens. We also shared the Book of Mormon title page with another friend named Heather.

Elder McLean and I were also part of a small miracle yesterday when we met a man named Rudy, who's briefly visiting Calexico because his grandpa is in critical condition. He was very genuine and receptive to our discussion about hope and eternal families. He told us he believed it was no coincidence that we found him that day, which we were overjoyed to hear. We left him a Book of Mormon with Alma 40 marked so he could learn more about resurrection.

So already, some pretty incredible things have happened. I'm only really seeing that in retrospect, so I'm glad I'm able to write these emails to give me hope for the upcoming week. I'm not gonna lie, this has been hard already, and not for the reasons I expected. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is honestly still back in Utah. It's been a struggle letting go of that and focusing all of my love and effort on where I am now. I hate to quote the Star Wars sequels, but... I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it. I've been praying for the gift of charity, cause my goodness, I need it. Guess we'll see how this week goes.

Quick tidbits about weather and then I'm done.

1. I'm lucky to be going to Calexico in the fall, cause apparently the summers are well above 100 degrees (120, I heard from someone). Apparently missionaries who serve through the summer get custom "I survived" t-shirts.

2. We got hit with a CRAZY rainstorm last week. It came and went so quickly, but it blew down a few trees and flooded the street next to our apartment.

God be with you,

Elder Tolman

Chapter 2 : Shenanigans

Well here I am at the final p-day of my brief but valuable MTC experience. We had our final class with Sister Urey yesterday and our last one with Brother Baker this morning, and boy did they hit hard. There's continually SO much to process each evening, between personal goals, teaching skills, and gospel questions. I can hardly close my study journal without immediately opening it again to write another quote or principle. Probably makes me a bit of a burden to my companion cause I try to spend breaks catching up on writing rather than using the restroom or getting water. I seriously have to be dragged away from my journal. After today all I have left is a busy Sunday, a final teaching opportunity and some packing time on Monday, and then I check out of the MTC early Tuesday morning and head up to the airport for my flight to San Diego! Thankfully my companion and I don't have a 3 AM checkout time or a 4-hour layover like some other members of my district. I'm excited to gain real experience teaching and to practice finding service opportunities, but I've been pretty stressed about developing my social skills as that's already been a struggle in my district alone (one that's gone up and down, granted). Here's a list of tidbits and shenanigans, cause there have been many:

• I think I'll firstly address what earned the shock-factor award in my last email. Grasshoppers. Yes, another has been consumed by our dear friend, Elder Hunter. It was pretty funny seeing Sister Urey's reaction when we first mentioned to her his new dietary choices, but in this past week before class she took it to the next level by using her neurobiology education to explain to us all, with diagrams on the board, exactly why eating grasshoppers is not, strictly speaking, a good idea. More specifically, she told us about the chemicals within grasshoppers that, to a tiny extent, can shut down your nervous system. This gave Elder Hunter an excuse to pretend to be brain-dead for the beginning of class.
• They offer haircuts at the MTC, and a lot of my district signed up to get one. However, only my companion and I turned up. The others, as it turns out, had new plans of their own. They had been enthusiastically discussing getting buzz cuts for a while, and I soon learned they had decided to give themselves the honor of bestowing said buzz cuts on each other. It began with 3 Elders, assisted by another district. Then 2 more fell to temptation, including my companion. A couple days later, yet another one did. Each newly buzzed casualty would go through a moment of remorse afterward before being consoled by someone shouting "Ya look good!" My whole attitude toward this was one of exasperated amusement, but I do have a confession to make: I leant them the very razor that did the deed. The horrified reaction of the sisters in our district was pretty priceless. One evening we had a post-devotional review with our branch president, and we turned up with an unexpected number of fuzzy heads. President Ingersoll gave us a lighthearted smack on the back of the hand, telling us that this is not the first time this has happened, and he's had to explain before the MTC president and other branch presidents why like 30 elders across multiple districts suddenly have a lot less hair. I guess buzz cuts spread like the plague among elders.

• There's this thick, sprawling tree we always pass by on the way to the cafeteria, and for whatever reason it just makes me smile. It's just a good lookin' tree, very climbable (though I dare not), and it brings memories of large, open parks to mind. Elder Hansen named it Floyd, and I can hardly pass by it without offering it a compliment.

• I forgot to mention last week, but I ran into one of my trek brothers as well as Elder Wood from my ward. Always cool to see who's serving a mission at the same time.
• One of the elders in my district has a birthday next week, so his grandma sent him tiny cardboard Sombreros and those party horn kazoo things. These were enthusiastically distributed in our residence hall, and what followed was a spontaneous and bizarre rave of sorts, during which you could hear nothing but the shrill blast of party horns.

• At one point our entire district (14 people) crowded into an elevator with Sister Urey as our class switched rooms, and whenever the doors would open on a new floor to more missionaries waiting for the elevator, one of us would shout "Come on in!" to which they obliged, joining the crowd. What added to this was the fact that someone pressed every single floor button. We've kept Sister Urey on her toes, literally.
• I've been doing my best to keep to the MTC standards, and one of these is that you're not allowed to listen to any music, spiritual or not, headphones or out loud. Needless to say, I've missed it SO much, and this has been one little extra thing that's made me excited to head out into the field. Hearing the choir in General Conference was a relief though, and my companion is a human MP3 player (from hymns to sea shanties to Phineas and Ferb songs).
• Elder Hansen and I joined choir practice to sing in our Tuesday devotional, and the choir happened to be directed by Brother Eggett who directed my brother in the UVU institute choir. He has a great sense of humor and we were all blown away by his ability to turn choir practice into something of a devotional itself, sharing the history and spirit behind our hymn, Sweet Hour of Prayer. This was also my first time singing tenor instead of bass.
• The MTC has a cat who just hangs out on the campus! She strikes that hilarious feline balance between being super friendly and wanting space. I think her collar says "Luna" but we affectionately know her as "Sister Mittens".

• It gets so cold at night in the residence halls, and the blankets here are pretty thin. My room's request for extra blankets didn't really go anywhere, so I spent the first several nights waking up a few hundred times till morning. In a conversation with the sisters in our district I asked if they were freezing each night too, and they said they were until they turned up the thermostat....yup. When we next returned to our rooms, I looked at the wall and there it was....in a pretty obvious place. Kind of reminds me of Elder Uchtdorf's tragic story about the man who saved up for a cruise ticket but didn't realize all of its services were free. So I turned it up a bit and finally got a continuous night's sleep. The next night I settled into bed, looking forward to getting the same rest, and just as I began to close my eyes, another elder arrived for bed, and said "You guys mind if I turn the air down?" Before I could respond, the others in the room replied "go for it," and he turned it back down...all the way down. *sigh* Oh well.

And with that, I had better start to put a stop to my unrelenting ravings. I've mostly shared entertaining highlights, but the reality is that this week has been filled with a lot of stumbling my way through teaching lessons, pondering on faith, and realizing just how central charity is to the gospel of Jesus Christ. All blessings are given to us with the hope that we will use them to help others, and I have a lot to learn when it comes to staying constantly aware of those around me and finding ways to improve their days. I hope that on my mission, this can become the focus of my life, and remain that way afterward. An insecurity of mine is that I'll find myself having to help people with the same struggles and questions that even I haven't overcome. I have a long way to go in my discipleship, and many questions have gone unanswered for years, despite my best efforts. Through faith I believe many things, but I know very little. How, then, can I help someone who is also seeking the truth but is equally unsure?

The comfort that I can offer them, though small, is that I have hope, and a love for the gospel, and a direction in which to strive. I can hold onto these things as long as it takes, for as long as God needs me to, because I believe Christ is at my side. Though that may not be all I want, I'm willing to accept that it's all I need. I'm grateful to Brother Baker and Sister Urey for helping me see that.

God be with you,

Elder Tolman

Chapter 1 : So It Begins

Hwah!

Hello all! My Home MTC experience is complete and training at the Provo MTC has begun as of last Wednesday. I neglected to email on my first P-day since I let myself get preoccupied with last-minute mission preparations, so here's a blurb about my time online.

MTC at home was a bit of an awkward phase. After being set apart, I had to do some mental and emotional gymnastics to accept the new life I'll have for the next 2 years, and to a certain extent let go of the people, places, and pastimes I've been accustomed to. But, after that whole process as I began training, I found myself still at home, surrounded by some of the things I was trying to let go of. I really began wondering why the MTC has held onto doing an online portion, especially because virtual meetings grind against my soul (the technical difficulties, accidental muting and unmuting, trying to talk at the same time...ugh). But, one of my first classes, with all four to five hundred missionaries starting at the same time as me, happened to discuss this. They gave 3 reasons.

1. It provides a more comfortable transition into mission life.

2. It allows us to enter to physical MTC already knowing several other missionaries.

3. It give us the opportunity to share what we're learning with our families.

I also eventually discovered a fourth benefit. My first interactions with my district were solely centered around sharing our testimonies and learning the gospel. The virtual class setting may not have been the best way to socialize, but I do think it meant we started off focused on the right things.

Each day varied in home MTC, but in general we followed the schedule of a lively morning routine (exercise, breakfast, personal study, companion study), then a morning large class or workshop, and 3-hour district classes in the afternoon and evening. I met my MTC companion, Elder Hansen, who I would describe as the district's lovable little brother. He's very smiley and energetic, and will sing a great variety of songs in pretty much any given moment. My MTC teachers are Brother Baker and Sister Urey, and they are fantastic. Brother Baker's a cool guy with a strong love for the gospel. In good humor, we liked to give him a hard time because he struggled to work zoom breakout rooms and there were some pretty hilarious mix-ups in our classes. Once, he spent a few minutes trying to get them figured out and a fellow Elder unmuted and blasted jeopardy music, to which we danced as we waited (a picture of Brother Baker's expression as we did this is enclosed). Sister Urey has a gift for inviting the spirit, and an impressive mastery of running classes and discussions, both online and in person. So the two are great counterparts.

Despite the rougher parts, I'd say the highlights of the online experience were studying the Book of Mormon with my district and seeing them engaged in discussing the gospel, as well as the opportunity to prepare a lesson for a woman named Zoe, and just feeling pure excitement about teaching someone what prayer can do for them. The lesson itself was pretty rough, being me and Elder Hansen's first one, but nevertheless XD.

The Provo MTC has likewise been a mixed experience. The campus is absolutely incredible, and President Porter kicked us off with a powerful devotional, in which two converts gave their life stories and we watched clips of a devotional from Elder Bednar focusing on the character of Christ. He gave simple and powerful insights. To sum them up, Christ alone had the proper character to perform the atonement, and that character comes down to the fact that wherever the natural man would turn inward, whether due to exhaustion, or selfishness, or difficulty, Christ would instead turn outward every time. President Porter also demanded a hug from every single Elder, and to those who thought they were too cool to hug him, he said "I will hunt you down....and I will kick you."

It's definitely been an adjustment sticking with a companion at all times, and I've had a hard time connecting with my district in person. They're all fresh out of high school and pretty rambunctious whereas I'm the older 20 year old with a different sense of humor and pretty uncommon interests. This made the first couple days mostly gloomy and lonely aside from in classes, but then I had a great one-on-one discussion with Sister Urey, which helped me see how I can use these circumstances to practice being a missionary.

Ok, one last story! We were walking across campus when a grasshopper presented himself to us. I took a picture of the little fellow and began to move along when another Elder caught it, and on a bet for a single quarter, nonchalantly popped the poor thing into his mouth and began to chew. After like 10 seconds he spat the remains out....but he did swallow the next one he came across. So...my goodness.

Today's been general conference, so I haven't had much of a P-day, but it's been a unique experience watching it alongside hundreds of other missionaries. I had a great time pointing out my wonderful mother singing in the choir to some of my district. I hope you all can discern the messages God has prepared for you this weekend.

God be with you,

Elder Tolman

MTC District

Brother Baker

Elders Hansen & Tolman

Zoom District

Grasshopper Snack

Sister Ray & Elder Tolman

The Family

View from MTC Windows

Foreword

 Farewell Talk given 18 September 2022

The lord speaks to all of us in different ways, and it’s taken me a while to pick up on it, but I think the medium he occasionally chooses for me is sheer irony. In my early teenage years, I didn’t have a particularly strong conviction in the gospel. It occupied a large portion of my life, but it didn’t hold a lot of personal significance. Then, in the midst of sort of sitting on the sidelines of my religion, I was called to be teachers’ quorum president, and entrusted with priesthood keys. For the first time I felt like I was being held personally accountable to live a more Christlike life. I had to make some changes, and face things I had been neglecting.

I served in that calling to the end, and pressed forward through high school. As I headed into senior year, nervously looking forward to joining a choir class for the very first time, I again received that dreaded call to the bishop’s office. My first thought was “Oh wow, I’m going to be called as first assistant in priests’ quorum.”. So, I sat down across from a member of the bishopric, and he told me “We would like to extend to you the calling of ward chorister”. Now, I have an incredible mother who sings in the Tabernacle Choir, and a talented brother and sister who sang in high school and beyond, but as for me, let’s just say I had a working theory about what exactly time signature is. A few weeks into my calling, I discovered that those little symbols on the music sheets were actually called fermatas, and were not there for decoration.

I remained in that calling for the next 2 years, and though it wasn’t very demanding, it was difficult at times because of my inexperience. But, in those cases where I felt way out of my depth, I would think of another particular calling I was intimidated by, and would tell myself “Calm down, at least you’re not a primary teacher.” I have been a primary teacher for the past 4 months. It’s an opportunity I’m very grateful for.

And finally that brings me to my preparation as a missionary. As I told people I was working on mission papers, the number one question I would get was “If you could choose where to serve, where would it be?” And I had a couple vague ideas, but for the most part, my response was “Wherever the lord needs me.” Eventually that response became “Wherever the lord needs me, except California.” I had a few reasons for saying that, partially in good humor, but every time I did, a particular biblical story came to mind about a man named Jonah and a city called Nineveh. Jonah was a faithful prophet of God, but he had one reservation. “Lord, send me whenever you will, just not Nineveh. Please, anywhere but Nineveh.” And yet, Jonah chapter 1 reads, “Now the word of the Lord came unto Jonah…saying, Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it” (1:1-2). God really is the same, yesterday, today, and forever, because word of the Lord came unto Elder Tolman saying, Arise, go to San Diego, California, that great city, and serve the people there.

As I’ve reflected on these experiences, I’ve looked up at God and thought “Hey, that’s 4 out of 4. Every single calling I’ve received has been specifically geared toward addressing a weakness or reservation of mine.” And when I imagine His response, I can’t help but think of a quote from Emperor's New Groove. I envision God looking down on me saying, “I know. It’s called a cruel irony, like my dependance on you.” Which actually brings me to one last irony about my callings, which gets into the core of what I’d like to talk about.

It’s ironic that, of all the times in my life to serve a mission, to have the Lord depend on me, it’s ended up being now, and not 2 years ago. From the ages of 16 to 18, I had a bold, even fiery testimony, and would have readily declared it to the world. I wasn’t without questions and challenges, but I was continually enthusiastic about the gospel. Over the past year, however, I have faced more confusion and conflict than I have ever experienced before. I have spent hours upon hours questioning and worrying about the foundations of my beliefs, and have found myself turned away from God for periods of months. I have been guilty of anger, pride, throwing away knowledge and the spirit, blame, resentment, distrust, unclean thoughts, the list goes on. And all this leading up to putting a name tag on bearing Christ’s name, and setting out to declare a message of hope and light.

It’s led me to ask this question: What do you do when you've been set so far back in your goals, made such a fatal misstep, that trying again feels hopeless? When you find yourself needing divine help, but you are so thoroughly turned away from God that the mere notion of turning back to Him for help feels insufferable?

It’s something I’m sure we’ve all felt before, be it in our relationships, in our performance at school or work, or in our personal lives. Have you ever struggled to build a good habit, or break a bad one, finally made it a week, or a month, or a year, only to see it all come crashing down, and find yourself back at square one? Has it ever felt like you’ve built a relationship with God, then neglected it, or even looked Him in the face and rebelled against Him? How do we bear coming so far, and then failing, but still having high expectations placed upon us?

To begin to answer that, I’d like you all to imagine a young man named Taylor. Taylor grew up in a family that loved road trips. They lived for the hum of the engine, the scenery flashing by the car windows, and the anticipation of their destination. Every year, they would go on a very special one to the countryside. After reaching adulthood, getting a car of his own, and moving away from his family, Taylor resolved for the first time to embark on this road trip on his own. He set out early in the morning, excited as could be, and began the long journey his parents had taken him on so many times before. Memories flashed before him as he drove, and everything was perfect. Right up until about a half hour into his drive, when he double checked his map, bewildered. He had taken an exit too early, and was going the wrong way.

Slightly frustrated, Taylor looked for a chance to turn around, missed 2 opportunities, and finally made a wild U turn at an intersection, for which a nearby car honked at him. Tense and irritated, he finally made it back toward the freeway. As he approached the on-ramp, he pondered. His enjoyment of the trip had completely evaporated in the last several minutes. This wasn’t the sort of mistake his parents made when they took him on the trip, and he was disappointed that after so much anticipation and planning for this nostalgic experience, he’d made several frustrating mistakes.

“No,” Taylor told himself, “I don’t want this mess up tarnishing the whole trip.” So he made a left turn, and headed up the freeway, back the way he came. Half an hour later, he made it home, where he turned his car around, and started his trip over again, looking forward to a smoother run of it. This time, he made it past where his earlier mistake had been, and about an hour into his trip was really starting to enjoy himself again. 10 minutes later, he missed a turn. The trip was ruined. Pounding his steering wheel, he turned around, drove the hour back home, and began again. And this he did every time he made a mistake, no matter how far he got, all the way into the late night, when, utterly exhausted, he parked at his destination.

This story is a little bit ridiculous, but I hope it can put our individual journeys into perspective. I hope it can demonstrate to you that our mistakes do not set us back at square one. It’s easy to view our relationship with God as a house of cards, that completely collapses when we mess up badly enough. We take the sacrament each week to renew our covenants, but if we sin, those covenants are broken, and we’ll just have to try again after sacrament meeting next Sunday. I’d like to suggest that our failures, big and small, are a part of our journey of repentance, they don’t restart it.

Before I go any further, I’ll clarify that the consequences of mistakes and sin are real. They affect ourselves, everyone around us, and God. There’s no doubt about that. But we are here to learn and progress, and that is far too important to let guilt, and hardship, and even other people’s anger stop us from striving to be better. If any of those things thwart your coming unto Christ, then they are not of God. Sometimes God is disappointed, even angry with us. But in Isaiah, chapter 9, we read about nations of disobedient people, and listen to what it says about the Lord, “for every one is a hypocrite and an evildoer, and every mouth speaketh folly. For all this his anger is not turned away, but his hand is stretched out still” (9:17). That last phrase is repeated three different times in that chapter (12,17,21). No matter how cut off from Him you may feel, no matter how bad your standing before Him may be, He will always accept your efforts to return to him, whether it be your hundredth or your thousandth time in your journey. Mosiah 26:30 reads “Yea, and as often as my people repent I will forgive them…” 

It’s my hope that we never find ourselves willfully sinning against God, but if we do, when we take the wrong exit on the highway from that story, there is no better option than getting back on it as quickly as possible. To the question, “When should I repent and try to set things right?” The answer is always “now”. There is no better time. This extends even as far as kneeling down and speaking with God after the very act of betraying his trust. You may feel ingenuine. You may feel like a hypocrite. But imagine the faith that God sees when you, knowing you are inadequate, choose to bow your head before Him anyway, because it is the best thing you can do in the moment. In the words of a favorite author of mine, “Sometimes a hypocrite is nothing more than a man in the process of changing.” (Oathbringer ch. 103, Sanderson)

But even despite all of this, when we are in the midst of doubt or shame, we might still wonder, how can any of this be? How can God be angry with me, but still want to listen to me? How can I find hope or love when I know I haven’t put enough work in? How can I expect mercy when I know I don’t deserve it?

About 2000 years ago, there lived a woman who we don’t know very much about. But, whatever the events were in her life that led her to it, we know one day, she was caught in the act of adultery, a sin placed right alongside murder in the Law of Moses. She was taken before the Pharisees, who proclaimed that she was to be stoned for her actions, and then she was brought to Jesus to be judged by Him. When I think back on this story, I try to consider what her perspective must have been like. Being paraded through the streets before a crowd of people, her transgression made known to everyone. Being cast before a man, who many claimed to be the Messiah. Who, so she heard, had performed miracles. Who, if this was true, was the original author of the law given to Moses. And He was to be her judge. I imagine her feelings. Fear and shame. Perhaps anger, and a sense of betrayal and injustice, as no one stopped to ask what her side of the story was. And yet, as she stood before Jesus, there loomed the undeniable, unrelenting fact that whatever her reasons were, a law had been set forth, and she had broken it. And the stones that would soon reign down upon her were nothing compared to the condemnation of her God.

“Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act.” Said one of the Pharisees. “Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?”

She waited for his response along with the rest of them, but He did nothing more than stoop down and write in the gravel with His finger, ignoring them completely.

“What sayest thou?” They pressed him, until He stood up only to say, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” And then returned His attention to the ground.

And just like that the Pharisees and spectors exchanged looks, and one by one, left the scene, until there remained only the woman, standing across from the Messiah, the only man who could truly accuse her. She waited, reliving all that she had done. Every reason He had to condemn her. For a time, it seemed He couldn’t even bear to look at her, as He kept his attention on the ground. Then He stood, and met Her eyes.

“Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee?” He asked.

“No man, Lord.” She replied, knowing it was the justice of God that was upon her, not of man. She had failed, and every good thing she had ever done seemed insignificant beside that fact. There was no way forward. She held His gaze, and in His eyes she saw something she did not expect. Her own pain reflected back at her. A deep understanding of all that tormented her, but in spite of it all, warmth. His response came with a smile.

“Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.” (John 8:1-11)

We are able to move forward despite our past failings because we have an advocate in heaven. Because Jesus Christ, our elder brother, is so loving, so determined, and so good, that he stands between us and the verdicts of justice. He continually says to Heavenly Father, “I know your children have been disobedient, but I have paid the price for them. Give them as many second chances as it takes for them to learn, even though they’ll be imperfect all throughout.” Christ’s atonement bridges the gap between justice and mercy, anger and love, imperfection and perfection. We are able to pray to our Father in Heaven, no matter the circumstance, because we do so in Christ’s name. This is His gift to us, and all that He asks in return is that we strive to be as He is, and that every time we take a wrong exit on our freeway of mortality, we admit it, and then get back on as fast as possible. It’s the getting back on that he cares about the most, because that’s what He sacrificed His life to allow us to do.

With this new calling I have, if I can show someone, anyone, that they can move past their shortcomings not because of luck or willpower, but because they have a savior who has fought and is fighting every moment of every day for their right to keep pressing forward, then I consider that a worthy cause. I’m grateful to teach in Christ’s name.

Behold, I am a disciple of Jesus Christ, the son of God. I have been called of Him to declare His word among His people that they might have everlasting life. (3 Ne 5:13)

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

After a week of Home MTC, it was time to go to the Provo Missionary Training Center on 28 September 2022. But first, obligatory pictures at the Provo Temple!