Op Zending

(One of our young Elder shared this with me and I wanted to pass it along)

        As I jumped on board my flight from Miami to Salt Lake City, I paused for a moment to catch my breath.  Seated near the front of the plane was an excited young man, probably 19, sitting with his parents.  His hair was short and his clothes new and sharp.  His suit was fitted perfectly and his black shoes still retained that store bought shine.  His body was in good shape, his face clear, and his hands clean.  In his eyes I could see a nervous look, and his movements were that of an actor on opening night.

He was obviously flying to Utah to become a missionary for the Mormon Church.  I smiled as I walked by and took pride in belonging to this same Church where these young men and women voluntarily serve the Savior for two years.  With this special feeling, I continued to the back where my seat was located.

As I sat in my seat, I looked to the right and to my surprise, saw another missionary sleeping in the window seat.  His hair was also short, but that was the only similarity between the two.  This one was obviously returning home, and I could tell at a glance what type of missionary he had been.

The fact that he was already asleep told me a lot.  His entire body seemed to let out a big sigh.  It looked as if this was the first time in two years he had even slept, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

As I looked at his face, I could see the heavy bags under his eyes, the chapped lips, and the scarred and sunburned face caused by the fierce sun.

His suit was tattered and worn.  A few of the seams were coming apart, and I noticed that there were a couple of tears that had been hand-sewn with a very sloppy stitch.

I saw the name tag, crooked scratched and bearing the name of the Church he represented, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints”the engraving of which was almost all worn away.

I saw the knees of his pants, worn and white, the result of many hours of humble prayer.

A tear came to my eye as I saw the things that really told me what kind of missionary he had been.  I saw the marks that made this boy, a man.

His feet, the two that had carried him from house to house, now lay there swollen and tired.  They were covered by a pair of worn-out shoes.  Many of the large scrapes and gouges had been filled in by the countless number of polishings.

His books laying across his lap were his scriptures, the word of God. Once new, these books which testify of Jesus Christ and His mission, were now torn, bent, and ragged from use.

His hands, those big, strong hands, which had been used to bless and teach, were now scratched and cut from knocking on doors.

Those were indeed the marks of that man.  And as I looked at him, I saw the marks of another man, the Savior, as he was hanging on the cross for the sins of the world.

His feet, those that had once carried him throughout the land during his ministry, were now nailed to the cross.

His side, now pieced with a spear.  Sealing his gospel, his testimony with his life.

His hands, the hands that had been used to ordain his servants and bless the sick were scarred with the nails that were pounded to hang him on the cross.

Those were the marks of that great man.

As my mind returned to the missionary, my whole body seemed to swell with pride and joy because I knew, by looking at him, that he had served his Master well.

My joy was so great, I felt like running to the front of the plane, grabbing that new, young missionary, and bringing him back to see what he can become, what he can do.

But would he see the things that I saw, could any one see the things I saw?  Or would he just see the outward appearance of that mighty Elder, tired and worn out, almost dead.

As we landed, I reached over and tapped him to wake him up.  As he awoke, it seemed like a new life was entering his body.  His whole frame just seemed to fill as he stood up, tall and proud.  As he turned his face towards mine, I saw a light about his face that I had never seen before.  I looked into his eyes.  Those eyes, I will never forget those eyes.  They were the eyes of a prophet, a leader, a follower, and a servant.  They were the eyes of the Savior.  No words were spoken.  No words were needed.

As we unloaded, I stepped aside to let him go first.  I watched as he walked, slow but steady, tired but strong.  I followed him and found myself walking the way that he did.

When I came through the doors, I saw this young man in the arms of his parents, and I couldn’t hold it any longer.  With tears streaming down my face, I watched these loving parents greet their son who had been away for a short time.  And I wondered if our parents in Heaven would greet us the same way.  Will they wrap their arms around us and welcome us home from our journey on earth?  I believe they will.   I just hope that I can be worthy enough to receive such praise, as I’m sure this missionary will.

I said a silent prayer, thanking the Lord for missionaries like this young man.  I don’t think I will ever forget the joy and happiness he brought me that day.

                                                           Author Unknown

I can't believe how quickly the time is moving along.  We leave in a few months and sometimes it seems that we just arrived.  There is so much more that we need and want to do but feel totally helpless at times.  Some of you have asked how life has been for my Russian friend Luydmila and I really have no great news.  I think her situation may never change and she is still struggling to keep her head above water.  She and her three children now live in a lovely house in a cute village but who knows how long they will be able to continue living there.  Finances are such that she can hardly get by.  She does get some help from the government but her permit to stay may by taken away at any moment, so even with the help of an advocate who helps her deal with all the paperwork and appointments she still can not see a light at the end of the tunnel. She is not able to find a job but has arranged to do some volunteer work several mornings a week. That will keep her mind off the situation at home and help her feel useful.

We have been pretty busy lately and putting a ton of kilometers on our little car.  At times I think we spend more time driving than visiting because of the long distances we need to travel.  Shell oil is really appreciating us I'm sure. The scenery of course makes the drive worth while and we will really miss that when we leave. It may sound silly but one of my favorite scenes is a herd of black and white cows in a beautiful green field with a windmill turning in the background.  Of course there are tons of canals, boats and bridges along the way and even waiting for an open bridge can be delightful.

The university will start next week so we should be seeing more Jo Vos at Family Home Evening and Institute.  Yes more cooking but that is fine.  Always room for more right? We even had a new fellow walk in last night.  The sisters had met him on the street and invited him but they really did not expect him to come. He heard the last two minutes of the lesson and enjoyed playing a game and visiting with the young ones there.  Hopefully he will return and be part of this crazy lovable group.


Our favorite hobby on Saturday was eating so of course we had a table full of goodies to give us the energy to work as well as visit.  A great day with good friends and it was fun to see our young  Missionary Sisters enjoying themselves also. These two are so upbeat and are a real joy to have in the branch.

One afternoon at camp was set aside for service projects that involved everyone and turned out to be one of the best days.  The senior Elders were asked to drive and help their group in various areas around town.  They worked in yards and gardens as well as hand sanding and painting sheds.  The senior sisters stayed behind and entertained 25 mentally challenged adults who were bussed in. We broke them into groups and had them rotate around to different activities.  We played  games, ate Dutch pancakes "pannenkoeken" draw or paint.  At the end of the little workshops there was a stage set up along with a Karioki machine and watching them sing along and dance to the rhythm was delightful.

 I was able to help several of them paint and play games.  Roy who is almost totally blind was the first one I helped and it was very difficult for me to keep my emotions under control.  Having a blind grandson made me realize again how difficult it is for them to get around and participate with those around them.  I'm glad he could not see the tears running down my cheeks.




Daniella who was very nervous and did not want to leave my side would calm down when I just held her close and convinced her that all would be O.K.  At the end she ended up on stage with her best friend singing along with one of her favorite songs.

What a week we had last week at Jo Vo camp. We had the privilege and honor of rubbing shoulders with about 100 young ones which was sometimes great but also at times very tiring.  Where they got the energy to stay up most of the night and then run around the whole next day is beyond me.  Of course we are a "few" years older but that should  have nothing to do with it right?

Senior couples did not have to share a room with the screaming girls or yelling boys so that was a plus.  Our little and I mean little room was just off the kitchen and dining room making it very easy to hear all the commotion during midnight snacks.  We had one set of bunk beds just behind the door so one of us had to sleep on the top bunk, guess who that was. We had barely enough room to turn around next to the bed but that was O.K. because we did not spend much time in there with all the thing we had to do anyway.

 There was a dance on the second night that really showed off our youth in their party duds. It is amazing  how many English song were played during the dance and how the kids seemed to know all the words.  We should have brought our earplugs along but it was fun to watch them dance and jive to the music.

It is really sad that not more people are interested in learning about the scriptures or  even the basic principles of the gospel.  I'm not talking about those who have never heard of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day saints,  I am talking about those members who come to church each week and sit in the meetings with blank looks on their faces. You can tell they have not even read the lesson, bring their scriptures into the building for three hours and then stash them away until next week.

These unfortunate souls are great people who are kind to their neighbors, love their families and work hard to provide for them but just have not taken the time to study and apply those marvelous teachings into their daily lives.  I have learned that once you start to not only read but study the scriptures, a new world is opened up.  The more I learn the more I also learn how much I don't know.  I will never have all my questions answered but  I am searching for those answers and have found much more than I had ever expected.  I admit that I have an advantage by being married to Ben and I truly am grateful for him and his knowledge. (besides, he's a pretty good husband as well)

We do have two sisters here who are interested in studying and it has been great to meet with them.  We get  together, discuss a subject that has been studied and have a meal.   Ben has a huge library on his laptop and is able to help us with any questions that may come up.  They have both learned English mainly to be able to read the material that is not available in  Dutch (which is a ton) We have wondered why more of the church literature is not translated into this language but now realize that there really is not  a great demand for it. Why supply them with something that will not be read anyway?

We will keep trying to get more people interested in learning and hopefully someone will wake up and share dessert with us. We still have some time to work on this and we simply will not give up trying.