WEEK 46: A Brave New World

ST JOHNS, FLORIDA
COMPANION:  ELDER BORE
DISTRICT LEADER
Jacksonville South Zone

Elder Joshua Jorgensen
546 Scrub Jay Drive
St. Augustine, FL 32092

That is my new address! Let me tell you, it is a bit different from Starke. Gone are the trailers. Gone are the country folk. The State Prison and the vast empty forests and the ghettos are distant memories. The wonderful people of St.Augustine have been RICHLY blessed, and they cruise around town in European sports cars, not on riding lawn mowers. So, it's a transition.

I'm also serving in a GIANT district! It is either the biggest or tied for the biggest in the mission. There are four sets of sisters and four sets of elders. We cover four wards, and when the zone leaders come to district meeting we have 19 missionaries in the room! Good times. Lots of trade offs. Those start tomorrow.

So yep, we have a full-time car, a gorgeous area, a huge apartment, and a horde of fabulous missionaries serving around us. We knock on doors most of the day and it is HOT but the doors to these palaces we're knocking on are so beautiful that it's hard to complain. Plus there are WAY fewer ants and mosquitos here AND we're only 20ish minutes from the beach so the temperatures are less extreme and the members are feeding us almost every day, which is easier for them because there are almost three times as many active members as in Starke! I'm still waiting for my heart to arrive, since I did leave it out in that tiny little country town, but the St. John's ward and area are growing on me quickly. It's pretty much paradise.

My new companion is Elder Bore from Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada. He has been out for 6 weeks and he is 100% willing to WORK. What a blessing that is.

This week I am stealing my thought from my Aunt Janis. I'm pretty much her number 1 fan. She wrote me a note that ended with "Never Stop Getting Back Up". Boy did I need to hear that!

Transitions are unpleasant for me, as a rule. After months of HARD work in Starke we finally built up the area to one of the most productive areas in the whole mission. The ward came to love us, the weekly key indicators had increased by an average of 600% (not an exaggeration) , and we had the first baptism for the Elders in Starke in at least a couple of years (that's as far back as our records
went). Sigh. It was hard to leave that behind and start from square one. My new assignments are numerous, and there is definitely a learning curve. I received lots of very helpful, constructive correction from a myriad of sources on a more than daily basis this week. That was a lot. And, finally, rich people have some pretty strong opinions about having their door knocked on at 8:45 PM. So! I got to put Janis' advice to the test!

And let me tell you, it worked. I am up! Sometimes I had to pray for the strength even to fall asleep at night, but I got back up. Well, probably was lifted back up. But I tried my best! Almost a year ago now I picked out a motto for my mission. It is, "Tomorrow Always Comes". For better or worse, whether we like it or not, tomorrow is coming, and remembering that has brought me the strength to keep getting up every single time.

That is the message that we share. That tomorrow always comes. Even in sin. Even in death. Even for families. Even for you. Hope and faith in tomorrow is at the core of everything we are. The absolutism of ALWAYS captures our powerfully rigid testimony in that which we KNOW to be true. And it comes. We don't have to make it there on our own. We don't have to drag it or chase it or capture or hold, and it won't do any good to run or hide. It comes. We can prepare if we'd like, but it will come no matter what.

Tomorrow is July. Tomorrow is my first trade-off. Tomorrow is another week. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow is hot and hard and enriching and glorious. And it's coming and it will go and another one will be next. We can love it if we want, we can grow if we choose, but it will come. And as long as we get back up, we won't get run down by tomorrow.

Anyway, that's my ramble for today. Time to go back to paradise, and invite people to heaven. I love you! Keep Getting Up!

~Elder Jorgensen

WEEK 45: Farewell to Farms

STARKE, FL
COMPANION:  ELDER COLLETT
Lake City Zone
 

Transfer calls came through last night! I will be transferred out of Starke in the Lake City Zone (country) to St. Johns in the Jacksonville South Zone (City). I'll miss the wide open spaces and the friendly country people and the miles of NOTHING here in Starke. We'll see what St. Johns is like. Probably amazing. I hope their baptismal font is big enough for all of the thousands of people we'll be using it for.

Miracles keep happening everywhere. We prayed that people we didn't expect would come to church and investigators just showed up! People we hadn't worked with in MONTHS or people we had never even met and less-active members that hadn't been to church in years. Miracles and miracles. After one very long trade-off, we got back to Starke about 8:45 PM (we have to be in the house at 9) and went street-contacting for the 10 minutes we had left and found and taught a whole family that was out sitting in their front yard! Hah! Miracles.

Miracles accompany faith. Always. That has been a new lesson for me. It accompanies the lesson I am working on learning now: "Everything good that I ask for from Father in the name of Jesus Christ, believing that I will receive it, I will receive." That's a bold promise, but the Book of Mormon says so! I believe in prayer. I believe that when I pray, I am heard, and my prayers are answered. But this is more specific than that. Mormon promises me that EVERYTHING I ask for that is good I WILL get. Goodness gracious. Everything? Always? And all it has to be is good? There are a lot of good things. I can have them all? As soon as I ask for them?

If I will believe.

Moroni 7 says we must have charity, and it says that charity believeth ALL things. Joseph Smith says, in the 13th article of faith, that "we believe all things". We don't get to pick and choose, apparently! We believe ALL things. That's a lot. I'm pretty set on a few things. But believe I am a moment of prayer away from faith, hope, charity, strength, patience, knowledge, memory, energy, happiness, discernment, money to pay tithing, tools to do the work, guidance for where to go, all good things, the moment I ask?? That's great! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO! All I need is belief.

So I am experimenting. Every day I pray for one specific thing that I want, that is good, and that I believe I will receive. I pray for it in every prayer throughout the day, and at the end of the day I examine the results. The next day I pray for something that requires a little more faith, a bit of stretch in my belief. I'm hoping to work my way up. Wish I could skip to the end. Wish I could be Mahonri. Wish I didn't fret. Sigh. Ah well. Poco a poco.

I had a new experience this week. I was asked to serve outside of my Zone for about a day and a half. We drove out to a much more wealthy, densely populated area, and I was placed with a missionary who was struggling significantly. I was as encouraging as I could be. I smiled, I complimented, I expressed respect and highlighted those things he was doing that were right. I supported all of his efforts. Unfortunately, this missionary was struggling with obedience. As he broke the rules, I smiled, I did my best to love him and to encourage anything he did that was obedient, and when he gave instruction on how I was to behave while in his area, I worked within the limits he defined as well as I could think to. When he chose to remain in the apartment, I studied my scriptures. When he chose to walk around the grocery store, I smiled and greeted as many people as I could. I thought I did what I was supposed to. As it turns out, I was very much mistaken! I love to be mistaken. Perfection is stagnation. Only in fault do we find opportunity to grow, and GROWTH is celestial.

After returning to Starke, I received a telephone call from the Mission President, and he provided some constructive correction. For the last year I have understood that to be Christ-like, I must be silent! To be meek I must do whatever I am told. To be loving I must never correct. I have been such a critical, confrontational, demanding, passionately opinionated person my entire life. I wanted to very much to change, but I had missed the mark. As I sat on my bed that night with the phone to my ear and reported my activities to the President, and had to give an accounting for my lack of work and for my lack of obedience that day, I had to hear the disappointment in his voice. As I gave a rather exacting report of each wasted moment, I had to hear his tone grow weary, and to feel a corrosive shame. He, fantastic man that he is, did not criticize, but he made it clear what was expected of me in future assignments.

So this week, I learned a LOT. I learned to stand for what is right. It is never loving to compromise. It is never acceptable to allow yourself or those under your stewardship to violate the commandments, statutes, or judgements of God for any reason, even for a day and a half. There is no loyalty in enabling sin. There is no kindness in paving a pathway to regression! Be loving and BOLD! Be merciful, and EXACT. Silence is not Christ-like. Jesus Christ taught even those who sought to MURDER Him. Surely we can teach in love even to those who seek to rebel.

There is no room for rudeness, contention, anger, condemnation, moral judgement, contempt, comparison, or fanaticism in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but a disciple of Jesus Christ must never compromise his convictions, transgress the commandments, or condone disobedience, even with silence. Sigh. I love my Savior. This week, I learned how I am expected to represent Him in the coming years. I am so thankful.

It was an incredible week. I laughed and played and worked and actually shattered the darn machete (pansy machete. Broke the blade in two places and the handle in half) and said a couple of special goodbyes. We ate at an amazing all-you can eat restaurant and I was the marvel of the entire establishment. One day we went street-contacting for EIGHT HOURS. I got sunburned every day and a couple of my 10 million bug-bites are so swollen I have to walk with a weird little waddle/limp. There was a storm so enormous it blocked out the entire sky, made the day as dark as night, ripped the branches and leaves from about every tree in town, thundered so loud the house shook and flashed lightening so bright we were momentarily blinded (which was fine because it was dumping rain so hard you could barely see your hand at arm's length anyway). But what I will probably remember most about this week in my life, one of only a few thousand or so that I will spend in this probationary state, is the feeling of reporting. One day, I will return and report. One day I will stand before Father and the Master, and I will speak to them of each moment of my little life. They are not dispassionate beings. I will see their expressions, I will hear their tone, I will recount every single action, and their reactions will be emblazoned into my soul for eternity. I now have very strong feelings about exactly how I want that interview to go, and to NOT go! Hehehee I guess I'm that much more prepared for it.

That's what this life is for, you know; to prepare to meet God. Important to know.

I love you and I love my Savior. I learn so much, mostly about how much I don't know. I hope your week was as fun and exciting as mine was. I'll let you know what St. Johns is like.

Love,

~Elder Jorgensen

WEEK 44: One By One

STARKE, FL

COMPANION:  ELDER COLLETT

Lake City Zone

So much to say! So much to do. So much to love! So much is true.

One exciting way to read the Book of Mormon is to look for key phrases. Arise. Awake. Name. Why. Question marks. Exclamation points. Amen. Blood. One by One.

I have been in Starke, Florida, for four months now. I was sent here on the errand of the Master by His senior Apostle. I came here for one person. Elder Bednar's teachings on the subject are fascinating, and have been a source of comfort to me. I am not sure who that person is, but if I had to guess, I would say his name is Larry.

We found Larry by walking the streets, talking to everyone we saw. He declared himself a life-long Southern Baptist, and proclaimed that he was not interested in our Watchtower magazine. We explained, for about the billionth time that day, that we are NOT Jehovah's Witnesses, but missionaries for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We let him know we had new scripture, Apostles on the earth, temples where families can be sealed together for eternity, and we were there to invite him to pray about it.

Larry's ride was bumpy. He knows the Bible VERY well and had some very specific doctrinal objections. Don't know the Bible? Serve in the South! I could quote Revelation 22:18-19 by heart in my first five minutes in Starke. Anyway, Larry also knows Wikipedia very well and had some unsavory writings on the Prophet Joseph and other Church leaders presented to him by that and other internet sources. He took us on a roller-coaster ride of emotion several times and waiting outside the hour+ baptismal interview he had with a member of the mission presidency (the longest one either of us had ever even heard of was 30 minutes) was absolutely agonizing. But then it was over. Larry was baptized on Saturday, June 14th, and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and received the gift of the Holy Ghost on Sunday, June 15th. He is now a powerful, active, rapidly progressing member of the ward. He is inviting his family and his friends to hear the gospel, and is anxious to continue to learn and to grow.

I now know a couple of things. I know that missionary work works. I know that people can change. Larry is unrecognizable. I know that the Holy Ghost converts converts. I know that the joy promised to those who bring others unto Christ is real. That promise is true, that joy is unique and incredible. To have labored my whole life for just Larry would have been worth it. I am still full, and I am satisfied.

Not many words are necessary for my multitudinous thoughts and emotions revolving around Larry and his miraculous conversion. I have spoken of my exceeding joy, and that which I have written sufficeth me.

One revelation I particularly enjoyed this week came while studying the scriptures. In the Book of 3 Nephi, chapter 17, Jesus Christ has come to the Nephites. In these sacred pages we read:

9 And it came to pass that when he had thus spoken, all the multitude, with one accord, did go forth with their sick and their afflicted, and their lame, and with their blind, and with their dumb, and with all them that were afflicted in any manner; and he did heal them every one as they were brought forth unto him.
 10 And they did all, both they who had been healed and they who were whole, bow down at his feet, and did worship him; and as many as could come for the multitude did kiss his feet, insomuch that they did bathe his feet with their tears.
It is, as Lucy Mack one said, "difficult to take the measure of such things". Jesus Christ did not snap his fingers and make these people whole. He allowed them each to approach him individually, and have a personal experience with His grace. He healed them all, giving no respect to the nature of their malady. And they loved Him for it.

I wrote a letter a while ago wholly devoted to what Jesus Christ has done for me. I will not repeat myself much here, but I will say that I have been sick, afflicted, lame, blind, and dumb, and Jesus Christ has made me whole. There are not sounds to be made or characters to be scratched that can adequately communicate to another my love for my Redeemer. Here I will record the attempts of the prophets:

Lehi: 15 But behold, the Lord hath redeemed my soul from hell; I have beheld his glory, and I am encircled about eternally in the arms of his love.

 Nephi: 6 I glory in plainness; I glory in truth; I glory in my Jesus, for he hath redeemed my soul from hell.

Enos: 27 And I soon go to the place of my rest, which is with my Redeemer; for I know that in him I shall rest. And I rejoice in the day when my mortal shall put on immortality, and shall stand before him; then shall I see his face with pleasure, and he will say unto me: Come unto me, ye blessed, there is a place prepared for you in the mansions of my Father. Amen.

Alma: 27 And I have been supported under trials and troubles of every kind, yea, and in all manner of afflictions; yea, God has delivered me from prison, and from bonds, and from death; yea, and I do put my trust in him, and he will still deliver me.

Ammon: 35 Now have we not reason to rejoice? Yea, I say unto you, there never were men that had so great reason to rejoice as we, since the world began; yea, and my joy is carried away, even unto boasting in my God; for he has all power, all wisdom, and all understanding; he comprehendeth all things, and he is a merciful Being, even unto salvation, to those who will repent and believe on his name.

Moroni:  39 And then shall ye know that I have seen Jesus, and that he hath talked with me face to face, and that he told me in plainhumility, even as a man telleth another in mine own language, concerning these things;

Abinadi:  7 And if Christ had not risen from the dead, or have broken the bands of death that the grave should have no victory, and that death should have no sting, there could have been no resurrection. 8 But there is a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ. 9 He is the light and the life of the world; yea, a light that is endless, that can never be darkened; yea, and also a life which is endless, that there can be no more death.

I love Jesus Christ. I know that He is real. I cannot list all that He has done for me. I cannot worship Him sufficently. But, if given the chance, I would crawl across the masses and throw myself into the dust for the chance to brush but one of my tears of devotion and love across his calloused, scarred feet.

He lives. Of all that that testifies I bear witness in His Holy name, Amen.

~Elder Jorgensen

WEEK 43: My Machete and Me

STARKE, FL

COMPANION:  ELDER COLLETT

Lake City Zone

This week was a big change of pace! I have a very particular view of missionary work. Namely, that it is WORK. So probably my favorite thing to do is leave the house at 10:00 AM, walk the streets and knock
doors and talk to everyone and chase people until 9:30 PM and then teach someone on the phone until 10:00. This is a great way to teach a lot of people and work very hard, and to sleep like a log at night!
But, it is a foolish indulgence of mine. Sigh. So this week I repented, and my companion and I did missionary work the way everyone from the authors of Preach my Gospel to our district and zone leaders to the mission president and his wife to the Holy Ghost has been telling us to do it since day 1; through the members.

I had no idea how important members are to missionary work. Even here in the wonderful South, where people are actually home during the day to answer the door and kind enough to listen and so fervently
religious that they are willing to talk about Jesus to total strangers, members are several times as effective in finding and identifying members of the community prepared sufficiently by The Lord to be actually capable of receiving this glorious message, and infinitely more important even than that in retaining investigators and recent converts. In 10 months I have found with unwavering consistency that nothing of lasting value can happen on missionary work without the direct, willing, and independent involvement of the members. Is means more than just tossing out a few names when the missionaries crack the whip! It means constant, prayerful, dutiful commitment to sharing the gospel with all of those around us. Everyone you know ought to know you are a member of the Church, what that means, and what that means to YOU. Every single one of those people ought to receive invitations regularly, and love constantly.

Goodness was that news to ME! I probably shared the gospel with 1 person in my entire pre-mission life. Dang it! Oh well. I'll repent.

So life goes on here in the belt-buckle of the Bible Belt. People yell put phrases like "We not under no law! We under grace!" and "I know Jesus!" and "Oh no! It's the Jehovah's Witnesses!" at us on a pretty regular basis. Working with the members is wonderful. They are kind and willing and earnest, and need only a brainstorming session or two before they are off finding their own unique ways to build the kingdom. I've gained about 20 pounds in five days, but it is wonderful.

The other focus this week was service. I have had a bad attitude about service projects my entire life and particularly as a missionary, and I will tell you why: they are not hard enough. My image of a service
project is to show up, stand around for about 45 minutes waiting for other people to get there, then to leave again to get the tools they forgot, then to all load up in the car and get the tools we didn't
know we need, then to go get a quick snack, then to try and figure out what we're actually supposed to do (a lengthy mental exertion that requires at least two more snack breaks), then to abandon the attempt
and simply stand around silently playing a dangerous game of "leadership chicken" that ends when one person finally realizes everyone else is just as clueless as they are and gives up and starts giving out assignments to people at random. These assignments are usually things like, "pick up that pile of leaves", or "sweep this three feet of concrete" or "take this to the car" or "go pick up my dry cleaning." Everyone is assigned one or two of these tasks over the course of the next hour and a half, and then we adjourn for lunch, only to reconvene next Saturday and repeat the process.

I was not having any of that. My time as a missionary is much too valuable to me to waste days of it doing SERVICE. I had a pretty clear dea that any missionary who did a service project was the laziest
sort of servant the Lord could possibly tolerate. Then came this week, and the Holy Ghost rebuked me and told me I had to go do a bunch of service. Dang it.

So we harassed everyone we knew into letting us do service for them, and it went exactly as expected. Lots of looking for tools, lots of vague objectives, lots of breaks. I tried very hard to be humble and
find things to do. Sometimes I would just wander off and start weeding the neighbor's yard. I prayed for patience.

One day this process was going on at its normal pace. I was dozing off in the truck after our fourth tool/quick errand run. We arrived at the site and I hopped out. The member we were serving handed me a freshly sharpened machete, pointed at the jungle (there is nothing like it in California. Not even in Northern California. The trees and the hedges and plants and brush and thickets and vines are so thick here that if left untended for years the way these had been, they would completely overcome a house to where you could not see the structure or more than a couple feet into the yard. The foliage was more than twice my height and the ground was not visible) that was his yard, and said "Go for it."

What?

Go for it.

What do you want done?

Cut it belly high, and landscape it however you want. Everything needs cutting, but I only have one machete, so go for it.

Acres of jungle. My machete and me. After about 20 minutes I was sweating so hard it was pouring off my eyelashes and I couldn't see straight. 10 minutes after that I was panting for breath. At some
point my shoulder popped out and I had to be braced against the wall and slip it back in. Then it was right back to work. After an hour the machete had dulled, and we had to go to an appointment. My arms and
legs were covered with blood from a thousand cuts from the briers and thorns and sharp-edged branches that fought bravely to defend themselves, but they were no match at all for my machete and me.

We'll be going back regularly. There were several other things that happened this week that I am excited about. I dug fresh potatoes! I ate a jalapeño pepper right off the vine. We got to visit an aging man
in the hospital and I had the privilege to contemplate upon the wonderful love and kindness that I was shown by many of you reading this letter as I languished in a hospital bed. Thank you so much for your selfless sacrifice of time. Larry, the Southern Baptist we cornered on the street one day two months ago and have been teaching ever since, is scheduled to be baptized on Saturday. When I arrived to
Starke, no one in the entire ward even knew how to turn on the water for the baptismal font, and the knobs to turn the water had rusted over so much they needed to be loosened by wrenches. By Sunday
afternoon, there will have been 5 baptisms here since then. What an amazing blessing. Lightning and thunder storms have been going on. They are so beautiful they take my breath away. I never even imagined storms like these. They knock the power out occasionally. Always an adventure.

But! The highlight was the machete. It brought hope to my faithlessness and drive to my complacency. It reminded me not only of what service can be, but what my mind and our teaching and my entire
life can be. It reminded me what I want and what I'm here to do. Goodness I love service. Goodness do I love my machete and me.

Me making a goofy face and having a laugh, my companion with a family we were teaching, and our nametags. How thankful I am to be a missionary. I love it with my whole machete.

~Elder Jorgensen 

WEEK 42: SOME COMPLIMENTS

STARKE, FL

COMPANION:  ELDER COLLETT

I am out of time. 

Hopefully my family will subsidize this letter with some excerpts of mine to them. 

But our car got sticky-noted by some of the ward members this week! 

Here are some of the notes written on the stickies, 

with my commentary in (blue) parenthesis.

Loved by many

Love your speeches

 (we teach a lot in church. 

When I teach it always turns into a kind of speech type thing. 

I get a little excited okay??)