Lying for the Lord

21 August 2021

 Let me share a story from my mission, one where a little lie went a long way. So my companion and I invited Jose and Cherity to church. During the service their baby started crying so Jose took him out into the hallway to calm down & Cherity stayed in the chapel. After sacrament, I asked Cherity if she was gonna stay for Sunday School and she responded "I dunno, what does Jose want to do?" so I quickly go find Jose and ask him and he responds "I dunno, does Cherity want to stay?" 

I went back to Cherity and said "yeah Jose wants to stay" lolz I manipulated the situation to make them both think the other wanted to stay. 


 Haha I came clean a few days later, and they thought it was funny. It was what got them to stay at church and thankfully they both had a good time. Cherity said "it was the first time I've stayed all 3 hours for church since I was 14." We were
really hoping to baptize Jose, and man alive I loved Jose, he really loved us too. But it didn't happen while I was there. Maybe it was because I told lies to get them to come to church lol. Well of course I lost contact because I'm like that. But here we are nearly 8 years later, and I get a text from Cherity. She sent me a picture of Jose in front of the baptismal font, about to baptize their son. And they're so beautiful and happy and I was ecstatic to hear this!

I've been thinking a lot lately how if I could go back in time, I would choose to not serve a mission. So this text came at a funny time. I realize anybody else would've done just as good a job as I did on the mission, I was nothing special. I don't exactly align with the church as much as I did back then. And I kinda hate the part of the country I served my mission in. South Dakota. Lolz the lamest mission God could send me to. I absolutely hate Mt. Rushmore. I hate that the US government took a holy mountain, Six Grandfathers, and carved their own idols into it. It's kinda a haunting metaphor though, because here's a picture of me all proud of how good of a white savior I am. (I know it's not an exact metaphor, land disputes are not the same as a family's spiritual journey) 


I've grown and changed. And I don't know if I regret the mission or not. I'm incredibly grateful that I lived on the Standing Rock Reservation for a winter, I learned so much about cultural trauma and racism. I'm grateful for the intensity of my relationship with Jesus Christ. I'm grateful that I went on the mission a boy, and came back a man. But it was 2 years of incredible stress and no rest.


Here's where the story gets much darker. The missionary I replaced died. He was Native American (I never knew his tribe, he was from Arizona though) and he was sick as a teenager and decided to serve a mission even though he might not come back home alive. And I can't even fathom that kind of faith. To say permanent goodbye to your family and go to South Dakota to invite others to come closer to Christ. He met Jose and Cherity before I did. I hope he's in heaven looking down on Jose baptizing his son. I hope I did him right by being a good missionary.


I wonder what was more influential, the faith of this missionary that was willing to die for the chance to serve a mission, or my little lie to get Jose to stay at church. But that's a silly little thing to wonder about, there's no answer.

Love you all.

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