Feb. 10, 2014
Dear family and friends,
Happy Valentine's Day on Friday! I hope you have a wonderful one. Take time to remember to show your love to the Savior.
Happy Valentine's Day on Friday! I hope you have a wonderful one. Take time to remember to show your love to the Savior.
I had QUITE the intense week. It's been raining since Thursday! Craziness. Rain! I LOVE the rain! It's a little different being out and working hard to bring souls to Christ in it rather than watching it from the safety of my front porch, but I love it nonetheless :) And the fact that it rained for 4 days SOLID. The Napa Valley is looking GORGEOUS, especially the vineyards in St. Helena and the mountains of Angwin.
I don't think I've ever been somewhere that has had a solid stream of rain for days at a time. I love it. I love the puddles so much. It's hard not to jump in them, but there are two things that stop me from doing it: 1. My feet will be wet all day long, and 2. I remember that I'm in a skirt and that I'm a missionary, so it probably wouldn't be appropriate to be jumping around in puddles.
I don't think I've ever been somewhere that has had a solid stream of rain for days at a time. I love it. I love the puddles so much. It's hard not to jump in them, but there are two things that stop me from doing it: 1. My feet will be wet all day long, and 2. I remember that I'm in a skirt and that I'm a missionary, so it probably wouldn't be appropriate to be jumping around in puddles.
OKAY! I have a funny story for you, as well as a crazy story of something that went down Friday night.
Maybe I'll start with the serious story and lighten it up at the end. Alright deal. So here's the serious one, taken from my journal:
______________________________
"We weekly planned all day and were feeling pretty squished and claustrophobic by the end. We have also been feeling a little flustered because the Spanish sisters are having a lot of success while we can't seem to get things going. It makes it harder that our branch members give us literally no support (except for Pres. and Sis. Garate and the Roney's). We felt alone in the work. But tonight we hit the realization that we are not alone - God is with us every step. He is guiding the work, and He won't leave us hanging.
So. After planning, we got onto Facebook. We were trying to focus and teach online at the library in Calistoga, but this Chinese man wanted to Bible bash with us and wouldn't leave us alone. We finally began talking with him and this other woman next to us got all sorts of upset we were talking religion in a public library and walked to the front. She asked the librarian for a set of behavioral rules of the library and proceeded to meticulously pore through the rules. It really bothered me for some reason. Then the Asian man slapped this weird magazine down and told us to read it. We didn't read it, but we flipped through to see what it was about...weird stuff, basically. There wasn't a single picture of Jesus Christ in this supposedly "Christian" magazine. We leaned over to the woman and apologized for disturbing her. She didn't even look us in the eyes - like we were worth NOTHING. She lifted a newspaper over her face and mumbled, "I'm just going to be reading this." She, to make her dislike even more obvious, turned her body away from us. It felt very disheartening and unnecessary. Then to make the evening even harder, no one in the branch signed up to feed us that day, so we drove home to our apartment and are dinner alone.
After dinner we drove to downtown Calistoga in the pouring rain and contacted on the streets. It was rainy and wet, so people were in a hurry to get from their cars to their restaurants or from their restaurants to their cars. No one was kind to us. Mostly, they ignored us or gave us some harsh reply. By this time we decided to drive to St, Helena and contact there for 20 minutes before we drove to the Garate's for a member-lesson.
The drive there was quiet, except for the sound of the rain and the windshield wipers doing their job, in those quiet moments tears came to my eyes and a few slipped out. Sis. Harston asked how I was feeling. I told her the truth - not so good. I felt alone, sad, upset, downtrodden, angry at how rudely people were treating us. Sis. Harston felt the same way.
St. Helena. We parked on a small side road and walked down Main Street to contact a few more people. There were 3 people standing outside of a bar, so we tried to say hello to them. The older man (we found out his name is Dennis), about 40, rudely remarked, "I'm Roman Catholic. Move on." And waved us forward. The other two, a young couple, replied, "I'm Atheist. I'm a Satanist." They were all 3 of them rude and improper as could be and began slamming on the Church and Mormonism. Dennis folded his arms and shrewdly inquired, "So. Tell me your little spiel." Sister Harston and I both tried to share the unique, sweet message the Gospel provides when he interrupted with, "Who forced you to come out here?"
That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. In the pouring rain, and soaked through and through by this point, tears poured down my face like the rain around us and I bore my testimony that regardless of their thoughts or opinions, I volunteered to come out here and leave my family, my friends, my home, my comfort zone, my familiarity, my schooling - EVERYTHING - because I know it is true. And people can be mean to me, and treat me like I am nothing, and I won't lie when I say it is hard. But I know it is true.
The 3 parties were dumbfounded. And embarrassed. The young man in the trio asked if I wanted to come inside out of the rain and have a beer. I declined. Then Dennis and the other two started asking us questions. And we preached the Gospel to them in the soaking, cold, windy, rainy night, all the while getting more and more wet while they stood underneath a dry awning. At one point Dennis looked at us both and said, "I am sorry for coming off so harshly. I want you to know that what you are doing is the Lord's work. Don't let anybody, including someone like me, tell you otherwise. Keep your heads up and keep going."
It was crazy, because I felt almost like God was speaking those words to Sister Harston and I through the man. It was just what we needed to hear.
A few minutes later into our conversation a young lady in her late twenties came outside to smoke. Her name was Adrianne, and she expressed sincere interest in the Church. At first she, like everyone else it seems, ripped us apart, but as we quietly but determinedly testified of the Restoration of the Gospel, her heart softened and she was asking all sorts of questions. We ended up teaching her the entire Restoration lesson on the street in front of a bar. At the end, she asked us for a Book of Mormon she could read - we ran back to the car and grabbed a dry one and gave it to her with our names and number inside. She said to us, "You know, I'm going to read this book and see if it's true." I don't know what's going to happen with Adrianne, but it proved to me that we we're supposed to be there at that time to talk with her.
Even though that was hard, my heart just burned within me as I bore my testimony. I felt like Jesus Christ. Rejected, tired, aching for people to listen and feel the soothing balm the Gospel brings. But I will NEVER lie and say I don't know this Gospel is true, because I know it for a fact. And even though people may try to tear me down, the more often it happens, the stronger and stronger I get. The more I know this is true. The more not just my testimony grows, but my conversion."
______________________________
It was amazing, and hard, and scary. But SO great. That's just a taste of how hard a mission can be, but I love every single minute of it, good and bad, hard and easy!
And now for the funny story:
Something that happened last Sunday at Sacrament Meeting in the Veteran's home:
85+ year old men prepare, break, bless, and pass the Sacrament in the Veteran's home. It was a normal Sunday, and as usual Bro. Graham, the brother in charge of overseeing Sacrament Meeting in the Vet's Home, passed the Sacrament to the congregation after it was blessed and broken by two 90s-age priesthood holders. Our Relief Society president from the St. Helena branch, Sis. Baker, lives near the vet's home, so she was sitting in the congregation as well. The Sacrament gets passed to her and she exclaims in the silent room, "WHOA!" Then Bro. Graham passing the Sacrament whispers to her, "Sorry!" As the Sacrament gets passed to Sis. Harston and I, I found out why the exclamation. Those sweet veterans don't have very steady hold with their hands anymore and couldn't rip the bread into small pieces. Thus, we both took basically half a slice of bread for the Sacrament!
The exclamation and finding out what it was over was pretty comical, but I gained an amazing insight pondering afterwards. These veterans are incredible - the perfect example of enduring to the end. Even with feeble hands, aching backs, and shuffled walks, they continue to keep their covenants they made to The Lord and continue to fulfill their priesthood duties. I have so much respect for these men who fought for our country to keep its liberties and to defend the weak.
And that was my week! It was a refining week, but going through the refiner's fire hurts so good.
______________________________
"We weekly planned all day and were feeling pretty squished and claustrophobic by the end. We have also been feeling a little flustered because the Spanish sisters are having a lot of success while we can't seem to get things going. It makes it harder that our branch members give us literally no support (except for Pres. and Sis. Garate and the Roney's). We felt alone in the work. But tonight we hit the realization that we are not alone - God is with us every step. He is guiding the work, and He won't leave us hanging.
So. After planning, we got onto Facebook. We were trying to focus and teach online at the library in Calistoga, but this Chinese man wanted to Bible bash with us and wouldn't leave us alone. We finally began talking with him and this other woman next to us got all sorts of upset we were talking religion in a public library and walked to the front. She asked the librarian for a set of behavioral rules of the library and proceeded to meticulously pore through the rules. It really bothered me for some reason. Then the Asian man slapped this weird magazine down and told us to read it. We didn't read it, but we flipped through to see what it was about...weird stuff, basically. There wasn't a single picture of Jesus Christ in this supposedly "Christian" magazine. We leaned over to the woman and apologized for disturbing her. She didn't even look us in the eyes - like we were worth NOTHING. She lifted a newspaper over her face and mumbled, "I'm just going to be reading this." She, to make her dislike even more obvious, turned her body away from us. It felt very disheartening and unnecessary. Then to make the evening even harder, no one in the branch signed up to feed us that day, so we drove home to our apartment and are dinner alone.
After dinner we drove to downtown Calistoga in the pouring rain and contacted on the streets. It was rainy and wet, so people were in a hurry to get from their cars to their restaurants or from their restaurants to their cars. No one was kind to us. Mostly, they ignored us or gave us some harsh reply. By this time we decided to drive to St, Helena and contact there for 20 minutes before we drove to the Garate's for a member-lesson.
The drive there was quiet, except for the sound of the rain and the windshield wipers doing their job, in those quiet moments tears came to my eyes and a few slipped out. Sis. Harston asked how I was feeling. I told her the truth - not so good. I felt alone, sad, upset, downtrodden, angry at how rudely people were treating us. Sis. Harston felt the same way.
St. Helena. We parked on a small side road and walked down Main Street to contact a few more people. There were 3 people standing outside of a bar, so we tried to say hello to them. The older man (we found out his name is Dennis), about 40, rudely remarked, "I'm Roman Catholic. Move on." And waved us forward. The other two, a young couple, replied, "I'm Atheist. I'm a Satanist." They were all 3 of them rude and improper as could be and began slamming on the Church and Mormonism. Dennis folded his arms and shrewdly inquired, "So. Tell me your little spiel." Sister Harston and I both tried to share the unique, sweet message the Gospel provides when he interrupted with, "Who forced you to come out here?"
That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. In the pouring rain, and soaked through and through by this point, tears poured down my face like the rain around us and I bore my testimony that regardless of their thoughts or opinions, I volunteered to come out here and leave my family, my friends, my home, my comfort zone, my familiarity, my schooling - EVERYTHING - because I know it is true. And people can be mean to me, and treat me like I am nothing, and I won't lie when I say it is hard. But I know it is true.
The 3 parties were dumbfounded. And embarrassed. The young man in the trio asked if I wanted to come inside out of the rain and have a beer. I declined. Then Dennis and the other two started asking us questions. And we preached the Gospel to them in the soaking, cold, windy, rainy night, all the while getting more and more wet while they stood underneath a dry awning. At one point Dennis looked at us both and said, "I am sorry for coming off so harshly. I want you to know that what you are doing is the Lord's work. Don't let anybody, including someone like me, tell you otherwise. Keep your heads up and keep going."
It was crazy, because I felt almost like God was speaking those words to Sister Harston and I through the man. It was just what we needed to hear.
A few minutes later into our conversation a young lady in her late twenties came outside to smoke. Her name was Adrianne, and she expressed sincere interest in the Church. At first she, like everyone else it seems, ripped us apart, but as we quietly but determinedly testified of the Restoration of the Gospel, her heart softened and she was asking all sorts of questions. We ended up teaching her the entire Restoration lesson on the street in front of a bar. At the end, she asked us for a Book of Mormon she could read - we ran back to the car and grabbed a dry one and gave it to her with our names and number inside. She said to us, "You know, I'm going to read this book and see if it's true." I don't know what's going to happen with Adrianne, but it proved to me that we we're supposed to be there at that time to talk with her.
Even though that was hard, my heart just burned within me as I bore my testimony. I felt like Jesus Christ. Rejected, tired, aching for people to listen and feel the soothing balm the Gospel brings. But I will NEVER lie and say I don't know this Gospel is true, because I know it for a fact. And even though people may try to tear me down, the more often it happens, the stronger and stronger I get. The more I know this is true. The more not just my testimony grows, but my conversion."
______________________________
It was amazing, and hard, and scary. But SO great. That's just a taste of how hard a mission can be, but I love every single minute of it, good and bad, hard and easy!
And now for the funny story:
Something that happened last Sunday at Sacrament Meeting in the Veteran's home:
85+ year old men prepare, break, bless, and pass the Sacrament in the Veteran's home. It was a normal Sunday, and as usual Bro. Graham, the brother in charge of overseeing Sacrament Meeting in the Vet's Home, passed the Sacrament to the congregation after it was blessed and broken by two 90s-age priesthood holders. Our Relief Society president from the St. Helena branch, Sis. Baker, lives near the vet's home, so she was sitting in the congregation as well. The Sacrament gets passed to her and she exclaims in the silent room, "WHOA!" Then Bro. Graham passing the Sacrament whispers to her, "Sorry!" As the Sacrament gets passed to Sis. Harston and I, I found out why the exclamation. Those sweet veterans don't have very steady hold with their hands anymore and couldn't rip the bread into small pieces. Thus, we both took basically half a slice of bread for the Sacrament!
The exclamation and finding out what it was over was pretty comical, but I gained an amazing insight pondering afterwards. These veterans are incredible - the perfect example of enduring to the end. Even with feeble hands, aching backs, and shuffled walks, they continue to keep their covenants they made to The Lord and continue to fulfill their priesthood duties. I have so much respect for these men who fought for our country to keep its liberties and to defend the weak.
And that was my week! It was a refining week, but going through the refiner's fire hurts so good.
I hope you all have the most wonderful Valentine's Day! Remember that I love all of you very much and pray for you often :)
Love always,
Sister Nikole Decker
Sister Nikole Decker
P.S. Mom, Dad, Justin, and Bryce - you should invite Jessica Hardman and the rest of the Hardman family to the Gilbert Temple open house, if it's still going on! Perfect, amazing missionary opportunity where they can see that they can be with their family forever :)
P.P.S. I am SO jealous of Dad and the boys for going skiing in Utah. That sounds SO fun!!
P.P.S. I am SO jealous of Dad and the boys for going skiing in Utah. That sounds SO fun!!
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