"Guapitones"

As we walk around Cáceres we are constantly told we are "guapos" or "guapitones". It is not surprising that these compliments come from the older women that no longer can see well but, hey, we'll take the compliment. 

A bit of a slower week with more lessons falling through than being had, but we looked for other ways to serve! We sent videos to members to hype them up and called others that lived far out in the country. That said, even 6 lessons, or whatever it was, is still 6 opportunities to share the gospel. I am told that sometimes we do not see the fruits of our labors, I can only hope that that is true. If nothing else, I can be happy knowing I did all I could.

Last Monday we traveled to a workshop in Sevilla and then traveled back. That meant a total of 9 hours of travel and 3 hours there in Sevilla. Anyways, it was still fun to meet with other missionaries and learn how to improve our missionary efforts.

This past Friday we had exchanges with the Elders from Badajoz. This time I was with another Elder who only has been here 2 transfers. It was so fun to do contacts and lessons without the help of a trainer. This next week is transfers so we'll see what happens! Regardless, I'm excited to get out of my comfort zone and do more of my own work here. 

This Saturday we had an activity at the church to celebrate La Hispanidad. The majority of the Rama is from other countries so it was fun to see the representations from Peru, Honduras, El Salvador, Mexico and more! They had a talent show and platos tipicos from their respective countries. We made brownies to represent the U.S. haha. I couldn't tell you what I ate that night, but it was pretty amazing. 

I was struggling to think of a spiritual thought to share, but as I wrote this I heard the song "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief". There are certain songs that so perfectly blend music and lyrics that the meaning seems to sink deep into your heart. Whenever I listen to these last verses, I always get goosebumps.

In pris’n I saw him next, condemned 

To meet a traitor’s doom at morn.

The tide of lying tongues I stemmed, 

And honored him ’mid shame and scorn. 

My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,

He asked if I for him would die. 

The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill, 

But my free spirit cried, “I will!”

Then in a moment to my view 

The stranger started from disguise. 

The tokens in his hands I knew; 

The Savior stood before mine eyes. 

He spake, and my poor name he named, 

"Of me thou hast not been ashamed. 

These deeds shall thy memorial be; 

Fear not, thou didst them unto me.”

How beautiful the idea that those we are in contact with every day are divine children of God. The most mundane of our coworkers (even the mailman!) is loved infinitely and has potential beyond comprehension, to paraphrase CS Lewis. Sometimes we forget that fact, that all those we speak to have worries, dreams, hopes, and fears. Sometimes we forget that they matter too, even those that are rude, impatient, and proud. After all, aren't we? 

Elder Dougall