I've been reflecting a little bit on a question dad asked me during the Skype call: Does it feel like you're a missionary? It kind of took me off guard when he asked it, but it's something my mind has been dwelling on because I can't always say I do feel like a missionary. I think part of my expectation coming out as a missionary was that I was going to be stopping devout Catholics on the street and watch them change their lives as they read and accept the Book of Mormon as the word of God. Instead, my days have been spent with Nigerian refugees.
I love Nigerians so much and they have such a strong faith in God, but it's hard holding them to commitments. Most of the people I teach don't read very well and the Book of Mormon is not a book of little words, yet we ask them to read it after every lesson. The people I teach do not speak Italian and yet here we are inviting them to an
Italian church every Sundayy. The Nigerians here have churches where they worship God by dancing and singing- in their own language with their own people. I know this Gospel is true for every soul, not just
the souls that can understand the Book of Mormon or the talks on Sunday.
I am in a very interesting country at a very interesting time. I know I was called here for a reason, but I'm still searching for exactly why.
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| P-day Slacklining |
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| Elder Buckles and gelato! |
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| Michael |
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