Sunday, February 24, 2019

Monday, Monday, so good to me (2/23/09)


[1]On Saturday it got really warm. We were out walking and it got too warm in our coats so we had to drop them off at a members' home. It was nice, but I would have liked it better without the sunlight. When the sun shines it reflects from the snow, so we walk around with our sunglasses on and we look like the MIB.

One thing I have found on my mission that annoys me is that members do not understand what we do. It is not at all uncommon to hear something like, "Oh, are you just out tracking?" First of all the word is tracting, as in placing a tract (although we don't usually do that), not tracking. But what is more annoying is that they think that is all we do. I do not know if they use the word "tracking" (or sometimes they get it right) to mean proselyting, which we do do all day every day, or if they honestly think that we only knock on doors all day long. If we did that, an area could get tracted out in a manner of weeks. This area is small that it gets tracted out in months, and a lot of the people up here aren't very nice, perhaps some of the meanest people I've encountered. Tracting is like eating a shirt--it's generally not the most effective, and it's not very pleasant either. We do so much more. We go out to try to contact potential investigators (who are generally people who have been tracted into and have said to come back). We see former investigators. We try to visit less-active members, especially if we have not met them. Even this does not encompass all we do. This week we were walking down the road in the evening and some people were moving in so we offered to help. Generally people decline, but these people actually let us help. We left them our number on a pass-along card in case they need any more help. (I later said we should have left them our number on a Word of Wisdom pamphlet, for the boxes they packed in consisted of diaper boxes and beer, vodka, and other foolish drink boxes.)[2]

Ever since I got here, Elder B. has been complaining about how weird our ward mission leader is. I wondered why he never told me about his wife. He was out of town when I got here, but this week I got to meet him. I got in the car, and wondered why I'd never heard of his wife. Well, the reason was that he really is weird. He was gone because he, a 66-year-old, eloped with a woman he met online two months ago. They have not been sealed yet, but they exchanged rings in the celestial room. Yeah. It does not at all surprise me that he preaches false doctrine over the pulpit to the extent that the bishop has to get up the next week to correct him.[3]

Last night we were visiting some semi-active members. They asked me how long I have left. I realized that this Saturday marks fifteen months, and I only have nine left. That's single digits! I feel like there's still so much I need to do, need to learn, need to accomplish. Nine months is a depressingly short time! If someone conceived now the baby would be born about the time I get home! :(

Continuing with the random incontinuity of my letter, this morning Elder B.1's stereo somehow didn't function properly. I like my Michelle Tumes CD, but not at 4:00 a.m. I didn't sleep too well, and my dreams were all over the place. At one point I dreamt I wanted to get mint oreos for St. Patrick's Day, but they didn't have any, so I was going to get mint chip cookies instead, but then I determined they were soap cookies.

At this point I'm just writing to fill up time. This week we started teaching an unbaptized ten-year-old. His parents have testimonies but for some reason don't come to church. He answers no to every question we ask, even if he knows it. The dad seems enthusiastic but the mom is kind of odd, even though we know she has a testimony. Another example of how a wife drags her husband down. This is the only area I've served in where there have been active brethren married to nonmember wives. But even so, these men haven't always been active. The only other case I've seen was in Ritzville, where the wife of the High Priests Group Leader had her name removed. But judging from my experiences with her, I think she'll be rebaptized within a year.[4] But it is not at all uncommon for an active sister to be married to a nonmember.

We get long email time here, so I'm going to close now, and if I think of anything else, I can write back.

Love,

Elder Melville

Another comment

Today I was looking at pictures of my cute nieces. I mean, nephews. Their hair makes them look like girls.

I've been reading old emails. My greenie emails are so cheesy I had to stop because it made me cringe! If you want a laugh, look back at the old letters I wrote.




[1] The title of my post came long before my 2013–2014 obsession with the Mamas and the Papas. This email was somehow deleted from my mom’s account, but luckily she forwarded it to my brother, and he still had it!
[2] Later I learned that liquor stores often have lots of extra boxes, so they might not have been as alcoholic as the boxes indicated.
[3] My companion told me about these horror stories about our ward mission leader. The night we found out he got married, my companion called the member we lived with and said, “Guess what Brother Wilhelm did.”
“He got married.”
“How did you know?
“He gets married more than some people change their underwear.”
[4] Indeed, that woman in Ritzville did get rebaptized within a year.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Way to go, Idaho (2/17/09)


[1]It is not P-day, so I have to keep this relatively brief.

When most people think of Idaho, they think of potato farms where fourteen-year-olds are permitted to drive. It is ironic, therefore, that this is my most urban area.

Now, in East Wenatchee we primarily stayed in the urban residential area. But we technically covered an enormous area, and I did get to some of those places a few times while I was there. Mead had busy city but it also had major boonie areas. And there wasn't a single stoplight in the entire Ritzville proselyting area (now that I've left there, I regret certain pictures I never got to take, such as the quaint German town of Odessa). My Hayden area is not as busy as the parts of Spokane I covered, but we are in mostly all suburban areas. It's funny being with someone whose only area it's been. Most of the area is what in previous areas I would consider to be rich. Elder B. calls it average, even though we do have a lot of places that match up with typical houses in my past areas. But there are a lot of new developments, including one called Strawberry Fields, where nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about.

Elder B. is doing great, and I think he may very well become a zone leader before I go home.[2] He makes my job pretty easy.

This is also the first time I have not had a car at all. We've been doing a lot of walking, because the snow is still piled so much that in many places there is not much of a shoulder, if any. Therefore, we do not think it safe or wise to bike. Where we live is not centrally located at all, so it can get annoying to walk home for meals.

I was totally not expecting to be transferred. I was sad that I got your package on transfer call day, because I no longer need quarters to do laundry, and I had to leave behind all my Valentine candy. I did bring the hot chocolate, however. The MoTab CD would be nice, although some missionaries can't stand it, but Elder B. and I are not among those.[3]

I feel old. Listen to these facts:

I probably only have one more area after this, although the pattern could change, since we will get a new mission president.

I am now the only missionary in the group who came out with me who has not trained, unless you count the Spanish elder Elder Gutierrez, who went home after four months.

I feel like I have a laundry list when I tell members where I've served.

I knew all five of the missionaries who just went home, one of whom (Elder C.) was a companion.

Our district meetings combine two small districts, and three of the missionaries in these districts have shared a past companion with me, and two of those are home.

My district leader came out in the group when the first of my MTC group trained.

I was one of four English elders to come out in my group. One of those is a district leader, two are zone leaders together, and all have trained twice. I am glad I don't have those burdens.

Not to mention being with a companion who hits his year mark a month before I go home.

Anyway, it's weird to adjust to Idaho license plates and 208 zip codes instead of 509. When I was a pre-missionary scared out of my mind I found comfort in the fact that Idaho was in my mission, and Idaho bordered my own state. Now, I think, "Idaho? I'm from Utah. I need to be in Washington!" I did meet someone in another ward here (I believe his name is Tim Shirtz) who was a bishop in Fillmore about twelve years ago. He talked about how he could always go in the lumber store and ask Grandpa Boyd anything about lumber. That was fun.

I bought a green tie for St. Patrick's Day, and I bought an orange hat to make us more visible at night, but it looked ridiculous, so I tried to experiment with it and ultimately threw it away.[4] Three dollars in the garbage.

I hope to write longer next week on Monday![5]

Love,

Elder Melville


[1] The title of my email is a line from Toy Story.
[2] Elder B. did not become a zone leader, but he did become a district leader. Once I made the mistake of telling him I thought he would be a zone leader, and he let it go to his head.
[3] My mom asked if I wanted the Tabernacle Choir’s Consider the Lilies because she got an extra copy.
[4] My first year, I asked my family to send me an unquestionably green tie, but the tie they sent me was not really green, and even they questioned it. I knew I couldn’t trust them to get me a green tie, so I bought one (and still use it). The orange beanie I bought was too small, so it looked like a swimming cap. I tried to make it go around my neck, but that looked bad too.
[5] We emailed on Tuesday because the library was closed for Presidents’ Day.

Sunday, February 10, 2019

Why must we pay for hellos that we say--pay when we sigh an adieu? (2/9/09)


[1]Saturday was an interesting day. It was very hard to focus because we  were itching for our transfer calls. But we managed to do some work and Elder W. made a cake for our baptism.

It was wonderful to have the baptism. It was a pretty good turnout, and it was the first time Jason Johnson[2] had ever used his priesthood. (He passed the sacrament for the first time the next day.)They had a lot of nonmember family come, and we hadn't even thought beforehand to tell them not to take pictures of the actual ordinance. Maybe we can ask them to delete the pictures. There were a few mishaps; I had to direct them how properly to hold their hands. We selected to sing hymn 180, which has a disclaimer on the bottom to sing verses 1-4 for sacrament and to omit 4 but sing 5 and 6 for baptisms. So we put on the program to sing verses 1, 5 and 6, and it was announced, but the chorister just went on with the first four. It does bother me that no one ever pays attention to the extra verses on the bottom. So, we sang a sacrament song for a baptism.

This was my favorite baptism. Cassandra, the fifteen-year-old, is actually my oldest baptism, and I think the most sincere. She's also the only one I've baptized that I've taught all the way through. When we started the day before Halloween we wondered if she was just taking the lessons to please us and/or her family. But after not quite three months we asked what she thought and she agreed to be baptized.

And thus it was very sad and shocking to receive our transfer calls. All day we were speculating what could happen. We knew  that something was happening since our zone leaders didn't call us.[3] But I'm being transferred to Hayden Lake, ID. It's my first Idaho area. I'm going to be companion to an Elder B., who is just done training, and thus in mission lingo I'm going to be his mom.[4]

Since a missionary in Cheney killed off his companion we're with him today and I'm stuck at a 30-minute computer, so I don't have too much time. The baptism and confirmation was the most exciting, but transfer calls were also noteworthy. I thought I'd be here at least four transfers, but nope. Now I probably only have two areas left--a three-transfer area and a four-transfer area. An elder in Wenatchee was there ten months, so it could be my last area! :(

Running out of time (in more ways than one),

Elder Melville

I was granted extra time (this week's email Part II)


The friendly computer gave me an extra thirty minutes, so I can write a few more details.

Another sad occurrence about transfers is another person we're baptizing probably in March, Jessica P.[5] She came to church as she should, and her husband did too. He's a less-active member, and she asked him what he thought about her learning and baptism, and he said he didn't want her to do it alone, so he's coming back.

We had to teach the lesson in Gospel Essentials. It was on our Heavenly Father. It was a short lesson so we allowed for a lot of discussion. So I talked about how we receive commandments for our benefit, and that living these, like the Word of Wisdom and the law of chastity, makes us happier. Then we asked if there were any questions, expecting more discussion about God. But Jessica piped up, "What's chastity?"  She struggled with the word, but her husband helped her say it correctly, so I hoped he'd tell her what it was, but he didn't, and no one else was answering, so I had to. Then she kind of uncomfortably dropped it, but Elder W. told me later he worried that it was going to turn into a five-minute sex discussion.

That was better, though, than when we had to teach the law of chastity as the whole lesson back in November or December. That day the class consisted of me and my companion, never married; our branch mission leader and his wife; a single sister in her fifties or sixties, also never married; and an excommunicated member, who was also a sex offender. She had just had an interview with the branch president about being rebaptized, and had addressed her WoW issues with him. Then in the lesson we got to the part that said, "Breaking the law of chastity can make you commit an even greater sin--abortion." At this point the ex'ed member chimed in, "Oh, I forgot to tell him about that. It wasn't my fault; the government made me do it." Yep, she has no shame, and it's going to be a long road for her.

Anyway, I was also excited for a woman whose husband is the high priests group leader, but she had her name removed. We were walking down the street last week and saw her and she asked for a Book of Mormon. She talked our ears off and said various pastors and stuff try to get her to badmouth the Church, but she doesn't. She also said she's not ready for "discussions" (which they're not discussions anymore, and as a former member she wouldn't need them, but we'd gladly give them anyway), but it was interesting she said she wasn't ready, not that she didn't want them. She's consistently been attending church, bringing their ten-year-old son, whom she didn't allow to be baptized at eight, but she may allow for it now.[6]

I loved the story of Preston and David the ghost.[7] The pictures I've seen of Franklin are darling. It seems you keep changing your mind. Last I knew you were planning on shipping me to Tennessee when I got home. Honestly I'd rather them come out, but as long as I'll get to see my nephews, it will be good.[8]

Love,

Elder Melville


[1] My email title came from a song from the 1972 movie Snoopy, Come Home.
[2] This was the dad of the family. I feel like I can include the full name since it’s so common. I haven’t been able to find them. The summer after I came home from my mission, I went back, but they had moved.
[3] The mission president would call us if one of us was being transferred, but the zone leaders would call us if we were staying.
[4] You were in training for two transfers, and your trainer was your dad. If you got a second companion while you were still being trained, that was your step-dad. And your companion for your third transfer was your mom. This was not official, of course, but my mission president did tell me, “You’ll be momming him.”
[5] She didn’t get baptized in March, but she did get baptized within a year.
[6] The mom and the son got baptized after I left the area. I was Facebook friends with her in 2011, but she thought I was a different missionary and later unfriended me.
[7] My nephews were in Taiwan while my brother was still at home. My mom wrote me this in her email: “Preston has decided that David is dead, that is why they don't see him.  Dave has tried to talk to him on the phone to reassure him but Preston won't talk to him.  He finally told Ya-ping that the reason he won't talk on the phone is because dad is a ghost so that is too scary.”
[8] My mom’s email said they were going to bring my nephews to Utah for Christmas when I came home, and that is indeed what happened.


Sunday, February 3, 2019

It's Groundhog Day, and we awoke to a dusting of snow (2/2/09)


This week it warmed up quite a bit, getting almost to fifty degrees. Ritzville hardly has any snow, but Davenport still has crusty glaciers everywhere, with broken tree limbs strewn all over the place. It was nice to walk around without a bulky coat, but we're getting closer to the peculiar March period. I like March, but I always get really weird feelings from after Valentine's Day through Easter.[1] It did get colder again later in the week.

We're excited for the work that's going on. We're having a baptism on Saturday. We didn't expect that her dad would be able to do it, but the branch president approved it. We also have a baptism set up for the end of the month. Transfers are in a week, and I hope I'm not transferred, but I don't think I will be. All of my companions have been two transfer companions except for Elder B., and that's only because he was going home. I kind of hope Elder W. will leave the area before I do, because I do think this is my favorite area so far. There are definitely disadvantages to serving in rural communities, but I feel privileged to be here.

We were at a members' home this week (where we taught the woman who called us the next day, and said she felt peace about being baptized) and we were looking at a map they had on the wall. It had a lot of cities and towns on it that kind of surprised me; for example, they had Pulaski.[2] I looked for Bettendorf, and it was there, but it was interesting when I saw Davenport. When I first learned of my area I kept thinking of the Iowa Davenport, but when I looked at the map I could only think of the Washington Davenport.[3] I do like Ritzville better, though. It's a cleaner town.

We just got a new Davenport branch presidency, and none of them actually live in Davenport. The branch takes in surrounding towns and communities of Reardan (where the new president is), Edwall (second counselor), Harrington (first counselor, who is the same), Seven Bays (a resort settlement--I think it has its own zip code but I'm not positive), Lincoln (another resort place, right on Lake Roosevelt), and Creston. Ritzville takes in Lind (where our new on-date lives), Hooper, and Odessa. Of all these towns Odessa is the most quaint, with German architecture, flowers painted on walls in European style, and "Haus" in the name of half of the stores, but it also seems to be generally the least friendly of all our towns. I'd say it by far has the most Do Not Contacts. (All those Germans immigrated before the Holocaust, so I don't think it can be because they're Nazis.)

I actually sent a package home this week, containing all my Christmas stuff and your picture frame. It is depressing to know that the next time I listen to my Christmas music I will be home. It was a big box, and should be there this week some time. I sent home some garments I don't wear and just take up space. I like to send home a package each time I'm transferred, to keep my possessions reasonable, so if I do get transferred, you'll get two packages within a relatively short time of each other. One of these times I may send History of the Church home. I will have to sometime before I go home anyway, and though I have learned a lot from it, I don't use it that often. It just makes my suitcase heavy. We'll see what happens the next time I send something home.

I can't think of anything else I immediately want to tell you. I need to catch up with writing back to all the people who wrote me over the holidays, but being fifty miles from home each preparation day, I'm bound to forget something I need to write.

Love,

Elder Melville

And one more thing


I'm losing my voice. But I don't get sick. I lost my voice about this time last year. It's not fun because my throat gets all uncomfortable, and I sound really weird, and I get bad tastes in my mouth. But I simply do not get sick. I don't think I've really been sick since seventh grade. I get stuffy or lose my voice (or my cookies) now and then, but I don't become ill. It's quite nice actually; I'm practically invincible. I just hope I don't jinx it.


[1] In 2012, I called these weird feelings “lemits.”
[2] My great-grandmother lived in the small town of Pulaski, New York.
[3] My cousin Tammy lived in Bettendorf, Iowa, which was right next to Davenport, Iowa.