Foust in Fort Worth: Hablo puqito espanol.... Yo quiero dos tacos por favor. (and i don't know how to spell either.)‏

Monday, February 27, 2012

Hablo puqito espanol.... Yo quiero dos tacos por favor. (and i don't know how to spell either.)‏

Well, this week I was another good one. The first big thing that happened was on Tuesday we went on exchanges with one of the district Leaders, Elder Soto, who is the DL over the Spanish missionaries in the zone. I went to work in their area with his companion Elder Hansen, and we did Spanish work. It was fun. Sometimes I found myself just smiling, laughing as I picked up a word or two, but luckily most of the people spoke a little English anyway, so they avoided Spanish. It was funny; we walked up to one house of an investigator he wanted to stop by. He told me he had no idea if they spoke any English at all, because all he had heard them speak was Spanish and it was thick and really fast. The kids were outside so he asked, in his still new Spanish, (he's been out for only 4 months) if their parents were home. The kids replied "no, they're not home right now, they'll be back tomorrow" in perfect English with no accent. It was hilarious.

After a day of Spanish work, it was good to be back in my area. We spent a lot of time out in the country part of our area. It was a good day.

I want to tell y'all a cool story.

I read in Preach My Gospel that we should be using all the resources we have available, and so I set a goal to use one I never have before. I decided I was going to give out a Proclamation to the World. One day, about 2 weeks ago, Elder Fibke and I had everything fall through at night. So we told our exchange they could drop us off early, and then we went to a gas station to contact, and use the restroom. While I was in the restroom he talked to a police officer that had just gotten off work and was getting something in this 7-11. I got out and we went outside to wait for this man. He came out and we talked for just a second longer. He told us that he and his family had just been hurt and offended by the church they belonged to and were not ready to go back to religion soon, but that he had seen The Other Side of Heaven on TV a couple nights before and it really touched him and peaked his interest. So when we came and started talking to him he was more open than he even expected. We talked for just a minute, and then he went to get in his minivan where his family was waiting. I asked him if I could give him something, and I pulled out the Proclamation to the World I had planned to give out, and I wrote our number on the back. He took it and left. We began praying for him that night.

Jump ahead another week. It is Wednesday night and we are waiting for our exchange, which is also our dinner appointment, to pick us up. He is a half hour late. But we just get in and go when he gets there. He always takes the missionaries to New York Subs (which is amazing by the way, and cheaper than subway). We get there and get our food and sit down. There is only one other group in the restaurant. I hear the man tell his kids "don't stare" so I know they are looking at us. I steal a glance and low and behold, the police officer is there with his wife and girls. We continue eating and after they finish to get up and leave, Elder Fibke gets up to talk with them, but I stayed behind to keep our exchange company (and it may have been to keep him from getting up and ruining the situation, but that's not an important detail). Elder Fibke comes back just grinning. The man told him that a couple days after we had talked to him at the 7-11 he was in the doctor's office and a couple started talking to him, and they gave him a Book of Mormon. And then when he saw us in NYsubs, he said he knew it couldn't be coincidence. (I personally believe that that is the reason this member took us out on this night, and was late.) Know, we are praying for him a lot. He said his wife is still skeptical and doesn’t want to invite us over yet, but he is working on her.

God is preparing the hearts of the children of men. I love this stuff.

Friday we had Zone Conference. It was awesome. It was at the weatherford stake center, which is about 70 miles from our apartment, so we had a 150 mile day (yes, I can do math, we drove around Denton and Krum after it was over). Luckily we had been preparing for it all month so it didn't hurt our mileage. And the sisters in one of the wards out here had a member offer to drive some down in her 15 passenger van. Score. We only had 3 out of like 7 cars drive down that could have, so it really saved us a lot of miles. At ZC we learned about Zion, about what Zion means, and how to be a zion society. Zion is a reference to places (city of Enoch, New Jerusalem, etc.), a way of life (4 Nephi) and sometimes groups of people. We talked about what it takes to achieve that. We talked about how to build a Zion companionship, a Zion District, a Zion Zone, and a Zion Mission. The characteristics of Zion are mostly the Christ like attributes. We need to develop those. It is all so simple that the world doesn't comprehend it.

One big thing I noticed is that After Christ appeared in the Americas, it was a Zion society, because all of those people had a perfect knowledge of the savior. They saw him, felt the wounds, and were healed by him. They KNEW. As the generations passed, it went from a first hand experience to a second hand, and so forth. The knowledge became faith again, and as we know about apostasy, faith eventually becomes weak. So in order for us to achieve Zion, we need to have a perfect knowledge. In order to do that, we need to do what Alma talks about in Alma 32, and experiment to find truth and apply it. Then it becomes a perfect knowledge.
That was pretty much the highlights of the week, and the things I learned, all wrapped up in one big metaphorical burrito of truth and righteousness.
I love you all! Thanks for your prayers, you're in mine too!

-- --Elder Braxton C Foust--

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Be of Good Cheer

Be of good cheer. The future is as bright as your faith. My dear brothers and sisters, I express my love to you. I am humbled by the responsibility to address you, and yet I am grateful for the opportunity to do so. Since last we met together in a general conference six months ago, there have been continuing signs that circumstances in the world aren’t necessarily as we would wish. The global economy, which six months ago appeared to be sagging, seems to have taken a nosedive, and for many weeks now the financial outlook has been somewhat grim. In addition, the moral footings of society continue to slip, while those who attempt to safeguard those footings are often ridiculed and, at times, picketed and persecuted. Wars, natural disasters, and personal misfortunes continue to occur. It would be easy to become discouraged and cynical about the future—or even fearful of what might come—if we allowed ourselves to dwell only on that which is wrong in the world and in our lives. Today, however, I’d like us to turn our thoughts and our attitudes away from the troubles around us and to focus instead on our blessings as members of the Church. The Apostle Paul declared, “God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” 1 None of us makes it through this life without problems and challenges—and sometimes tragedies and misfortunes. After all, in large part we are here to learn and grow from such events in our lives. We know that there are times when we will suffer, when we will grieve, and when we will be saddened. However, we are told, “Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.” 2 How might we have joy in our lives, despite all that we may face? Again from the scriptures: “Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you.” 3 The history of the Church in this, the dispensation of the fulness of times, is replete with the experiences of those who have struggled and yet who have remained steadfast and of good cheer as they have made the gospel of Jesus Christ the center of their lives. This attitude is what will pull us through whatever comes our way. It will not remove our troubles from us but rather will enable us to face our challenges, to meet them head on, and to emerge victorious. Too numerous to mention are the examples of all the individuals who have faced difficult circumstances and yet who have persevered and prevailed because their faith in the gospel and in the Savior has given them the strength they have needed. This morning, however, I’d like to share with you three such examples. First, from my own family, I mention a touching experience that has always been an inspiration to me. My maternal great-grandparents Gibson and Cecelia Sharp Condie lived in Clackmannan, Scotland. Their families were engaged in coal mining. They were at peace with the world, surrounded by relatives and friends, and were housed in fairly comfortable quarters in a land they loved. Then they listened to the message of the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and, to the depths of their very souls, were converted. They heard the call to gather to Zion and knew they must answer that call. Sometime around 1848, they sold their possessions and prepared for the hazardous voyage across the mighty Atlantic Ocean. With five small children, they boarded a sailing vessel, all their worldly possessions in one tiny trunk. They traveled 3,000 miles (4,800 km) across the waters—eight long, weary weeks on a treacherous sea, watching and waiting, with poor food, poor water, and no help beyond the length and breadth of that small ship. In the midst of this soul-trying situation, one of their young sons became ill. There were no doctors, no stores at which they might purchase medicine to ease his suffering. They watched, they prayed, they waited, and they wept as day by day his condition deteriorated. When his eyes were at last closed in death, their hearts were torn asunder. To add to their grief, the laws of the sea must be obeyed. Wrapped in a canvas weighed down with iron, the little body was consigned to a watery grave. As they sailed away, only those parents knew the crushing blow dealt to wounded hearts. 4 However, with a faith born of their deep conviction of the truth and their love of the Lord, Gibson and Cecelia held on. They were comforted by the words of the Lord: “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” 5 How grateful I am for ancestors who had the faith to leave hearth and home and to journey to Zion, who made sacrifices I can scarcely imagine. I thank my Heavenly Father for the example of faith, of courage, and of determination Gibson and Cecelia Sharp Condie provide for me and for all their posterity. I introduce next a gentle, faith-filled man who epitomized the peace and joy which the gospel of Jesus Christ can bring into one’s life. Late one evening on a Pacific isle, a small boat slipped silently to its berth at the crude pier. Two Polynesian women helped Meli Mulipola from the boat and guided him to the well-worn pathway leading to the village road. The women marveled at the bright stars, which twinkled in the midnight sky. The moonlight guided them along their way. However, Meli Mulipola could not appreciate these delights of nature—the moon, the stars, the sky—for he was blind. Brother Mulipola’s vision had been normal until a fateful day when, while working on a pineapple plantation, light turned suddenly to darkness and day became perpetual night. He was depressed and despondent until he learned the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ. His life was brought into compliance with the teachings of the Church, and he once again felt hope and joy. Brother Mulipola and his loved ones had made a long voyage, having learned that one who held the priesthood of God was visiting among the islands of the Pacific. He sought a blessing, and it was my privilege, along with another who held the Melchizedek Priesthood, to provide that blessing to him. As we finished, I noted that tears were streaming from his sightless eyes, coursing down his brown cheeks and tumbling finally upon his native dress. He dropped to his knees and prayed: “O God, Thou knowest I am blind. Thy servants have blessed me that my sight might return. Whether in Thy wisdom I see light or whether I see darkness all the days of my life, I will be eternally grateful for the truth of Thy gospel, which I now see and which provides the light of my life.” He rose to his feet and, smiling, thanked us for providing the blessing. He then disappeared into the still of the night. Silently he came; silently he departed. But his presence I shall never forget. I reflected upon the message of the Master: “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.” 6 My brothers and sisters, each of us has that light in his or her life. We are not left to walk alone, no matter how dark our pathway. I love the words penned by M. Louise Haskins: And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: “Give me a light, that I may tread safely into the unknown!” And he replied: “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than [a] light and safer than a known way.” 7 The setting for my final example of one who persevered and ultimately prevailed, despite overwhelmingly difficult circumstances, begins in East Prussia following World War II. In about March 1946, less than a year after the end of the war, Ezra Taft Benson, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, accompanied by Frederick W. Babbel, was assigned a special postwar tour of Europe for the express purpose of meeting with the Saints, assessing their needs, and providing assistance to them. Elder Benson and Brother Babbel later recounted, from a testimony they heard, the experience of a Church member who found herself in an area no longer controlled by the government under which she had resided. She and her husband had lived an idyllic life in East Prussia. Then had come the second great world war within their lifetimes. Her beloved young husband was killed during the final days of the frightful battles in their homeland, leaving her alone to care for their four children. The occupying forces determined that the Germans in East Prussia must go to Western Germany to seek a new home. The woman was German, and so it was necessary for her to go. The journey was over a thousand miles (1,600 km), and she had no way to accomplish it but on foot. She was allowed to take only such bare necessities as she could load into her small wooden-wheeled wagon. Besides her children and these meager possessions, she took with her a strong faith in God and in the gospel as revealed to the latter-day prophet Joseph Smith. She and the children began the journey in late summer. Having neither food nor money among her few possessions, she was forced to gather a daily subsistence from the fields and forests along the way. She was constantly faced with dangers from panic-stricken refugees and plundering troops. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks to months, the temperatures dropped below freezing. Each day, she stumbled over the frozen ground, her smallest child—a baby—in her arms. Her three other children struggled along behind her, with the oldest—seven years old—pulling the tiny wooden wagon containing their belongings. Ragged and torn burlap was wrapped around their feet, providing the only protection for them, since their shoes had long since disintegrated. Their thin, tattered jackets covered their thin, tattered clothing, providing their only protection against the cold. Soon the snows came, and the days and nights became a nightmare. In the evenings she and the children would try to find some kind of shelter—a barn or a shed—and would huddle together for warmth, with a few thin blankets from the wagon on top of them. She constantly struggled to force from her mind overwhelming fears that they would perish before reaching their destination. And then one morning the unthinkable happened. As she awakened, she felt a chill in her heart. The tiny form of her three-year-old daughter was cold and still, and she realized that death had claimed the child. Though overwhelmed with grief, she knew that she must take the other children and travel on. First, however, she used the only implement she had—a tablespoon—to dig a grave in the frozen ground for her tiny, precious child. Death, however, was to be her companion again and again on the journey. Her seven-year-old son died, either from starvation or from freezing or both. Again her only shovel was the tablespoon, and again she dug hour after hour to lay his mortal remains gently into the earth. Next, her five-year-old son died, and again she used her tablespoon as a shovel. Her despair was all consuming. She had only her tiny baby daughter left, and the poor thing was failing. Finally, as she was reaching the end of her journey, the baby died in her arms. The spoon was gone now, so hour after hour she dug a grave in the frozen earth with her bare fingers. Her grief became unbearable. How could she possibly be kneeling in the snow at the graveside of her last child? She had lost her husband and all her children. She had given up her earthly goods, her home, and even her homeland. In this moment of overwhelming sorrow and complete bewilderment, she felt her heart would literally break. In despair she contemplated how she might end her own life, as so many of her fellow countrymen were doing. How easy it would be to jump off a nearby bridge, she thought, or to throw herself in front of an oncoming train. And then, as these thoughts assailed her, something within her said, “Get down on your knees and pray.” She ignored the prompting until she could resist it no longer. She knelt and prayed more fervently than she had in her entire life: “Dear Heavenly Father, I do not know how I can go on. I have nothing left—except my faith in Thee. I feel, Father, amidst the desolation of my soul, an overwhelming gratitude for the atoning sacrifice of Thy Son, Jesus Christ. I cannot express adequately my love for Him. I know that because He suffered and died, I shall live again with my family; that because He broke the chains of death, I shall see my children again and will have the joy of raising them. Though I do not at this moment wish to live, I will do so, that we may be reunited as a family and return—together—to Thee.” When she finally reached her destination of Karlsruhe, Germany, she was emaciated. Brother Babbel said that her face was a purple-gray, her eyes red and swollen, her joints protruding. She was literally in the advanced stages of starvation. In a Church meeting shortly thereafter, she bore a glorious testimony, stating that of all the ailing people in her saddened land, she was one of the happiest because she knew that God lived, that Jesus is the Christ, and that He died and was resurrected so that we might live again. She testified that she knew if she continued faithful and true to the end, she would be reunited with those she had lost and would be saved in the celestial kingdom of God. 8 From the holy scriptures we read, “Behold, the righteous, the saints of the Holy One of Israel, they who have believed in [Him], they who have endured the crosses of the world, … they shall inherit the kingdom of God, … and their joy shall be full forever.” 9 I testify to you that our promised blessings are beyond measure. Though the storm clouds may gather, though the rains may pour down upon us, our knowledge of the gospel and our love of our Heavenly Father and of our Savior will comfort and sustain us and bring joy to our hearts as we walk uprightly and keep the commandments. There will be nothing in this world that can defeat us. My beloved brothers and sisters, fear not. Be of good cheer. The future is as bright as your faith. I declare that God lives and that He hears and answers our prayers. His Son, Jesus Christ, is our Savior and our Redeemer. Heaven’s blessings await us. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Hablo puqito espanol.... Yo quiero dos tacos por favor. (and i don't know how to spell either.)‏

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