Count your many blessing and say no to creepy phone calls.

This week was stressful to say the least.  Alternatively, miracles abounded to balance out the walls we ran into with those in our teaching pool. 

Someone, somewhere has been advertising Sister C and I as the town shrinks because everyone and their dog's great grandma has unloaded all of their problems on us. 

I've heard before that missionaries are the world's bartenders (minus the alcohol and twice as much listening on our part), but seriously, the problems just keep coming. 

It brings a whole new meaning to representing the Savior. Sister C and I are just a couple of 19 year old girls and here we are seemingly trying to solve the world's problems. That's our first instinct anyways. 

I think of Jesus and His perfect pattern to help those in need. From what I can tell it was so much about pervasive and persuasive love. His reaction to all in whatever circumstance stemmed from pure and powerful love. As a missionary trying to emulate all of that, I can't help but feel smaller than the mandated task. 

Fortunately, I've learned something new this week. As humans, it's way too easy to transform into a puddle of discouragement; to count up our wrongs instead of counting our blessings. 

This week several of those we love dearly have crashed and are burning. 

This week I shed a few tears over the circumstance of one of our recent converts. 

Last night I was slightly snappy with one of our ward mission leaders.

Hoped for temple trips have been canceled and postponed, stomach aches have been experienced, bleary eyed mornings have been grumbled through, the mission president has been called (about the circumstances of one of our investigators), and creepy phone calls have ruined evenings. 

Ugh. 

On the lighter side, this week we took a recent convert to the Mesa Visitor’s Center.

This week a friend has decided that she is willing to make big changes that are necessary. 

This week we had the most fun tracting experience of our lives, grew our relationship with a potential investigator, made some new friends, came up with some snazzy secret handshakes, joined a couple of service projects, laughed until we cried, survived a creepy phone call, napped during dinner hour, felt the spirit during choir practice, and were continuously guided and upheld by God himself. 

THIS WEEK WE HAD 6 INVESTIGATORS AT CHURCH AND THIS WEEKEND WE HAVE A DOUBLE WAMMY BAPTISM (pics to come). 

What I've learned is that while I run around attempting to put out fires, I can't lose sight of what I'm really here to do. Most importantly I cannot forget the Lord whose errand I'm on. 

Today, I commit to appreciate the daises amidst the fires of life, and to never lose hope in the shower of blessings that is bound to come. 

I love you all! 

Sister Barlow

PS. About the creepy phone call... 

We were on the way home from the Mesa Visitor’s Center when we got a call from some other zone leaders in the mission telling us that they had a referral for us. Apparently a girl from Utah had been meeting with the missionaries, had recently moved into our area, and now wanted to know the info for which YSA she would be a part of. They gave us her number and then we played phone tag with her for a while. 

We finally were able to catch her at the tail end of our dinner time. Our conversation was slightly bizarre and altogether pretty normal (although parts of her story were not lining up), but the whole time the spirit was hardcore anti-ing her. Sister C and I both felt awful the whole time. She felt like crying, I felt like vomiting, and we both agreed that we needed to get off the phone and not meet with her.  Listen to the Spirit folks. That is all. Bye.