Christ Makes the Bitterness Sweet

Written by Carter. While we were in Dunedin, I spent over an hour looking at (and reading about) the stained glass windows in a beautiful Anglican cathedral. What exquisite artwork! Faye asked me to come to a store that sold Scottish things. I bought a tie with the Macrae (how they spelled it “back when”) tartan; my maternal grandmother’s maiden name was McRae. I also bought a booklet with some of the clan’s history. Turns out that my Young ancestors also came from Scotland! I didn’t know that until I looked on my Family Tree app while I was in that store!
I also visited the New Zealand Sports Hall of Fame in Dunedin. That was interesting!

The Auckland Mission nurse will complete her mission and return home in a couple weeks. She is a good person, a good friend and a good nurse. I met her replacement, a retired midwife from NZ. I look forward to getting to know her and her husband, to working with her in caring for the health and safety of the missionaries in that mission.
We attended a “new member lesson” with Sarah. Another single member woman was there. She was baptized in 2003 and seems to be solid in the Church. She asked me to give her a blessing after the lesson. It was humbling to be God’s mouthpiece in pronouncing that blessing and to catch a glimpse of how much He loves her!

We called our granddaughter, Sadie, for her birthday. I’m thankful for technology that allows us to keep in contact with family!

The person in the area offices who is over employee health asked me to conduct some sessions where I check blood pressures on the employees who are interested. My first session was Friday. It was nice to get to know some of them better.

I participated in a Zoom training that originated from Salt Lake City. It was for all the area medical advisors around the world. I noticed that there were 130 attendees! It’s humbling to be a small part of such a grand effort to care for the young missionaries, the Lord’s ambassadors who are inviting others to come unto Christ! Mike LeSueur emailed and said he saw that I was in the meeting; I had forgotten that he and Susan and also serving in the same position Faye and I are…but in the southwest part of the US! Cool!

Yesterday, two other senior couples and we went for a ride on segways through Devonport, which was originally a naval town. There are some beautiful Victorian homes from the 1880’s there. Learning to ride the segways was fun!
I often chat with a man from India who lives in our apartment building and who is Zoroastrian. I remember learning about that when I took a “world religions” course in college. We have shared various literature about our respective beliefs over the past several months. We have come to be good friends. His daughter invited me to her son’s 2nd birthday party today. The Indian food was delicious!

While at the birthday party, I chatted with a young couple in their early 30’s who are from Omsk, Russia. They both work in IT. They have a 1.5-year-old son. She is interviewing for a job tomorrow. She’s nervous about her English, but it was very good when I spoke with her. She seemed relieved when I told her that.

Also at the party, I chatted with another man from India who is Catholic. He asked about our church’s beliefs and how they differ from Catholicism. I had a wonderful time getting to know those people today!

I had a good email exchange with a lifelong friend this week. I don’t know if I heard this from someone else or if I made it up…but I believe this statement: “You can’t have too many good friends!”

I’m also reminded of the paradox of being “strong enough to cry.” Similarly, being “strong enough to ask for help” is a gift so needed in today’s world. One of our main purposes on this earth is to serve; do we have a “duty” (maybe there’s a better word)  to allow others to serve us? I think we do! Is it hard to have others serve us? Absolutely! It takes a certain amount of humility to do that…and humility often does not come naturally!

One of our speakers in our church meetings today reminded me of when the Lord commanded Moses to put a tree into the bitter and undrinkable water at Marah. Doing so “cured” the water so the children of Israel could drink it. This is a type of Christ, who was lifted upon a tree (cross) as part of His Infinite Atonement, which (if we allow it) makes the bitterness of our lives sweet and nourishing to our souls.

“I’m not never gonna get a turn!”

Written by Carter
I’m writing this letter from Dunedin, in the South Island of New Zealand. What a beautiful place! 

I’ve had pain in my right hamstring for over a year now. Thanks to guidance and exercises from a physiotherapist (as they are called here) and a good sports medicine doctor, the pain is gradually resolving. I saw the doctor this week for (I hope) the last time before we return home in June. He has been very helpful! I told Faye I wished I could take him home with me! He asked me what activities I wanted to participate in over the next several months. I told him that I wanted to hike up Rincon Peak in October with some family and friends. He gave me some tips on how to prepare for that hike and how to hike using proper technique. 

The doctor told me how to watch the America’s Cup yacht races being held in Auckland. They beat an Italian team 7 races to 3 races. Aucklanders were sure excited about their defense of that Cup!

At the end of the doctor’s visit, I gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon, with a brief introduction. I pray that the book will find whoever needs to read its truths. The day before, I got a haircut. My favorite barber told me that that was his first day back after being off for a month because of breaking his collarbone when he wrecked on his bike. He has been trying to quit smoking to help improve his health. I said, “I have a suggestion that many have found helpful in quitting smoking: Read the Book of Mormon [which I had given him several months ago]. It will help you quit smoking!” He said he would! I’ll follow up in a few weeks. 

I frequently see a homeless man whenever I walk around our neighborhood. He sleeps in the park where I walk. I jokingly asked him one time when I was going to meditate near where he was going to sleep, “Is it OK if I meditate in your living room?” We had a good chuckle together. I asked him once if he had somewhere to stay dry when it was raining; he said he did. I also asked if someone was helping him find somewhere to live; he said, “If I wanted to live in a house, I would have done that a long time ago.” He has been living outside for two years! Interesting! I wonder what leads someone to deliberately live outside? I love the cartoon that says, “If I have to be homeless, I prefer that it only be during the daytime.” I gave this man a Book of Mormon, also, and told him I would pray for him. I think we have a pretty good friendship…though I don’t know his name.

Last week, I mentioned the “rough patch” I went through a few months ago. One of my lifelong friends emailed me last week that he wanted to read it; that simple email touched my heart, made me cry. For those who are interested, there are three posts on that topic on our blog, ashtonslegacy.com. Another friend recently shared his journal entry from the day of Ashton’s funeral. Again, I felt loved and comforted. Whenever I write about the hard times, I sometimes wonder if admitting “It hurts” is complaining. I guess I don’t see it that way. Again, for me, writing about my pain helps me understand my pain and learn from it. I also hope my experiences help someone else. I appreciate the many comments and messages of love, support and encouragement in my grief and healing journey. My primary “love language” is “words of affirmation.” These comments and messages mean more than I can express. It reminds me of Proverbs 17:17, “A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” How true that is! I hope to “pay it forward” by being a friend and brother to others who have been injured on their personal “road to Jericho.”

Last Sunday, we discussed Elder Holland’s General Conference talk, “Waiting on the Lord,” in the men’s group at church. That discussion reminded me of a family video we have from when our older children were young. They were getting ready to go down a playground slide. A boy their age was waiting on the ladder and said, “I’m not never gonna get a turn!” Of course, he did get a turn…he just needed to wait a little while. It reminded me of my struggles with patience to see the Lord’s hand in my life. As Inigo Montoya says in Princess Bride, “I [too often] hate waiting!” But God knows more than I do; He has an eternal perspective. He knows what I need now…and when it is in my best interest to wait. In the Joseph Smith Translation of Genesis 15, Abram asks God how God will give him the land for his inheritance. God replies, “Though thou wast dead, yet am I not able to give it thee?…and [Abram] believed in the Lord; and the Lord counted it unto him for righteousness.” I pray that God will help me wait more patiently for His blessings and promises. I acknowledge His hand in my life and in everything good around me. He is even able to make weak things strong; He can make beautiful things out of ashes of our lives. The scripture I am “ponderizing” right now is Revelation 21:4, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” I believe that with all my heart!

Rough Patches in December and January, Part 3 of 3

The following portion was written February 7, 2021:

I decided to not send the parts of this post that I wrote on January 31 until the last two days; it was just too personal, too painful. This week has been SO much better! Now that I am feeling back to “normal” (for me), I feel like I can end my letter on a positive note. I have my energy and enthusiasm back. I’m so grateful for the healing power of God and Jesus Christ in that healing. Besides just the passage of time and the grace of God, something else I think has helped: I listened to an audiobook: The Power of Now. I don’t agree with all of the author’s conclusions, but most of what he said rang true for me. One thing he talked about was “surrendering to what is.” My son is dead; I can’t change that. What I CAN change at this present moment is accepting that fact. I will still probably feel sad at times, but I can then choose to accept that sadness. I’m not saying it as well as the author did, but how he put it has helped me. My doctor in NZ recommended this book last year when I told her I was having a hard time after Ashton’s angelversary. I never got around to listening to it…but when I was having a hard time again this year, I thought I’d check it out…and am glad I did.

As we are learning about the early history of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I was struck by an early event: Mount Tambora in Indonesia erupted in 1815, spewing enough ash into the atmosphere that climates were affected throughout the world. The following year became known as “the year without summer” in Vermont because of snowfall and killing frosts during the growing season. This was the “last straw” for Joseph Smith, Sr., who then decided to move his family to western New York. This led to a series of events that led to the founding of the Church, but, geographically speaking, it put Joseph Smith, Jr. in proximity of where Moroni had buried sacred golden plates over 1400 years earlier. By divine guidance, Joseph was shown where these plates were and he translated them into the Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Jesus Christ. In thinking of my own life, Ashton’s suicide has been my Mount Tambora eruption: it has been catastrophic and devastating…but I think it has helped God put my heart where He wants it to be right now. It has also led to serving two missions where I can serve other missionaries like Ashton. 

As I read about the surgery on Joseph Smith Jr.’s leg when he was 7-years-old (in a last-ditch effort to avoid amputation, the doctor cut out a piece of infected bone without anesthetic, because there weren’t any in 1812), my sympathy in the past has been for the boy Joseph. However, this time, my compassion this time was for his father, who had to hold his son during this excruciating operation. How helpless he must have felt to not be able to provide his son with some relief. Before Ashton died, I also felt very helpless as I knew he and everyone else were doing their best to bring him some relief. Perhaps this gives me a small glimpse into how God, the Father, felt when He watched His Perfect, Only-Begotten Son suffer in the Garden of Gethsemanae and on the cross. The Father, of course, could have rescued His Son. Jesus could have rescued Himself…but They chose to go forward with that excruciating experience because of Their love for us. I’m grateful to believe in a God Who weeps when I weep, Who rejoices when I rejoice. No, I am not strong…God is strong. Any strength you think you see in me…is Him.

Another thought: God no longer asks us to sacrifice a firstborn lamb; instead He asks us to give to Him our broken hearts and contrite spirits. Why does He want us to have broken hearts? Comparing it to growing wheat (or other grains): The ground must be broken to plant the seed. Seeds must be broken before they sprout. Clouds must be broken to release the rain to water the plant. When harvested, the grain is often broken/milled to make it more digestible. God wants my heart to be broken so I can turn to Him for healing. So I can grow. My spirit must be contrite (submissive) to the current circumstances. I am striving to surrender to what is at this very moment.
I’ve read some on “post-traumatic growth,” the positive psychological change experienced as a result of adversity and other challenges. I pray that I can allow some of that to happen in my life…and to recognize it when it does.

One of my sisters emailed me the week of Ashton’s angelversary and said, “Your hearts will be in my heart.” One of my brothers wrote about working with Ashton the days before Ashton’s death. Those gestures meant so much to me! I believe in angels! So many of you have been “angels” of love and compassion to me! Thank you!

Thanks for listening and for your love and prayers.

Carter

Rough Patches in December and January, Part 2 of 3

This was also written on January 31, 2021.

On January 28 (Ashton’s angelversary), Faye and I went for a walk in a redwood forest near Rotorua, New Zealand. We stopped partway, sat on a bench and meditated. As I walked, the scripture in Alma 36 came to my mind, so I looked it up. Adapting it to my situation, this is the part that resonated with me: “…as I was thus racked with torment, while I was harrowed up by [my grief], behold, I remembered to have heard…concerning the coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the [grief and pains] of the world. Now as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy no me, who am in the gall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting chains of [grief]. And now,…when I thought this, I could remember my pains no more;…I was harrowed up by the memory of my [grief] no more. And oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold;…my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!”

I can’t say that this happened instantaneously…but as I cried out in my heart over and over, “O Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy on me…” I gradually felt lighter and not so weighed down with grief. I am grateful for that answer to prayer that came as I asked and according to God’s will and timing.

Also while we walked, I thought about a conversation between Winnie the Pooh and Piglet:”Today was a difficult day,” said Pooh.There was a pause. “Do you want to talk about it?” asked Piglet? “No,” said Pooh after a bit. “No, I don’t think I do.” “That’s okay,” said Piglet, and he came and sat beside his friend. “What are you doing?” asked Pooh. “Nothing, really,” said Piglet. “Only I know what difficult days are like. I quite often don’t feel like talking about it on my difficult days either.” “But goodness,” continued Piglet, “difficult days are so much easier when you know you’ve got someone there for you. And I’ll always be here for you, Pooh.” And as Pooh sat there, working through in his head his difficult day, while the solid, reliable Piglet sat next to him quietly, swinging his little legs…he thought that his best friend had never been more right.” As I thought about this fictitious conversation, I thought of Faye and many other friends and family who can’t take my pain away, but are willing to just (metaphorically) “sit with me,” I cried in gratitude for their compassion.

One night during this recent “rough patch,” I was trying to go to sleep, but my mind and heart were weighed down with grief. I felt alone. I cried out in my heart, “Heavenly Father, it’s just You and me right now. Please help me.” And He did! Within a short time, my mind and heart were calmed and I was able to go to sleep.

When the Prophet Joseph Smith was illegally imprisoned for six  months in Liberty, Missouri, he received several revelations from God. Reading one of them today [written January 28] brought me comfort, “My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; and then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.” Right now, grief has been one of my “foes.” I also read this quote today by Elder Lawrence E. Corbridge: “…suffering and joy are not incompatible but rather essential companions. You can suffer and never know joy, but you can’t have joy without suffering.” In the moment, I can’t say that I’m grateful for grief and suffering. However, I believe they have enhanced my ability to experience joy. It’s like they have stretched and even “broken” my heart…a painful experience…but doing so has allowed my heart to grow, making more room for more joy and happiness.

I recently read an article that resonated with me. Again adapting to my situation: I have two hands. In one of them (metaphorically speaking), I am holding grief; in the other, I am holding joy. With time, my grip on the grief I’m feeling becomes less intense and my grip on the joy I’m feeling becomes more intense. I can attest that it is possible to feel both grief and joy simultaneously.

Another article talked about “cleaning up debris” after a catastrophic life event. I think my occasional grief spells are helping me accomplish that. I’m trying to learn to welcome grief like I would a friend. This time, I tried to welcome “him” into my home, to sit with him and see what he has to teach me. Like I might prepare for the visit of an important person, I am trying to prepare my heart for grief’s periodic visits. After he leaves, there are some things that need to be picked up and put away.

I also thought of patients whose joints swell up and become painful when the weather is stormy and of how these same grief spells might be likened to those symptoms: painful, but usually transient.
(to be continued…)

Rough Patches in December and January, Part 1 of 3

Written by Carter

This portion was written mostly on January 31, 2021.

As an introductory caution, this post will not be an “Insta-perfect” travel log. The absence of photos is deliberate. I will talk about some hard things. Why not just focus on the positive? Certainly, most of what is going on in my life right now is very positive and uplifting. Everyone goes through hard times; I understand that. I also understand that the worst pain is your pain. So why even bring up hard stuff? How does that make things better? Why am I writing this? Well…certainly, nobody need feel “obligated” to read what I write…but I am writing this for two reasons: a) To help me understand myself and my situation; and b) perhaps others can learn from me, both my successes and failures. I claim no expertise except for what is like to be Carter Mayberry right now…and even that is very much a “work in progress.” I read something that reminded me that I am uniquely qualified to be me. I’ve had all the experiences I need to prepare me for right now.

For those familiar with the Myers-Briggs personality types, my personality (ISFJ) is very good at some things (like all types)…but I am also prone to certain weaknesses (like all types). One of my personality’s weaknesses is that we sometimes tend to dwell on the negative. Acknowledging that is at least half the battle for me. “Why not just think more positively?” you might ask. Great question! My response: I’m working on it; I haven’t found a “switch” to make it happen immediately, so think it will probably be more of a gradual effort for me.

So…here goes:

I’ve had a couple of rough patches the past few months. In mid-December, I was with some other senior couples serving in Auckland. I asked them a question that popped into my head, “What’s your favorite movie?” One of them narrowed the question further and asked, “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?” Several of them named their favorites. Someone mentioned, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” with Jimmy Stewart. I thought, “Yeah, that’s a good movie; I think I’ll watch that!” And I did watch it. I don’t remember where Faye was at the time, but I watched it by myself. It didn’t occur to me that the main character almost ended his own life by jumping off a bridge toward the end of the movie…but an angel was sent to save him. That scene “blindsided” me; I forgot it was in there. I don’t think I had watched that movie since Ashton’s suicide. It brought me down more than I had anticipated…and I felt down for several days after that. I know that it was a fictional story and doubt that angels really do rescue people from suicide the way the movie depicted…but I’m sure there are many people who are pulled back from the brink of suicide by various influences. I felt happy for all those to whom that has happened. At the same time, I felt sad for those (including Ashton) who are not rescued from that point of crisis. I don’t expect to understand why/why not during this lifetime, but know that God loves all His children and trust His plan for all of them.

The other “rough patch” was the week of January 28, which was the seven-year anniversary of Ashton’s suicide; we call it his “angelversary.” It seems like the first few years after Ashton’s death, that day was harder for Faye than it was for me. The last few years, it seems to be harder for me than for Faye. I’m not sure why that is. I’ve done some soul-searching, prayerfully asking, “Lord, what lack I yet?” I set some goals around New Year’s Day, wanting to be more emotionally-, physically-, socially- and spiritually-prepared for January 28. I believe God expects us to exert our best effort at the same time as we reach out for His grace. I think all those personal efforts…along with the grace of God…helped me so January 28 wasn’t as hard as it has been the last few years…but it was still hard. I honestly can’t think of anything I should have done (or not done) in preparation for that day that would have made it any better. I have concluded that this must be part of the “normal” process of healing. Why is my healing taking so long? I don’t know; I’m trying to sit with my grief when it comes, acknowledge it, feel it, see what it has to teach me. How do I feel on those days? I just feel sad/down/heavy/tired. I need to take longer naps and get to bed earlier. After a few days, my energy level is usually close to “normal” for me. I’m self-diagnosing, but I don’t think I need to see my physician to change my antidepressant…since it’s better in a few days.  I’ve also read about “complicated grief” and none of those features apply to me; I just feel kinda yucky for a few days.

(to be continued…)

Baptisms

Written by Carter. One of the missionaries had surgery on Monday. To preserve confidentiality, I will refer to the missionary as “they” or “them” and won’t give more details. Because it was in Auckland (and involved a complicated situation), Faye and I drove them to the surgery. They wanted me to be present when the doctors were talking to them before surgery. Faye and I waited in the waiting room during the surgery, which seems to have gone well. The missionary was in a fair amount of pain and was very tired after the surgery, so we brought them to our apartment to rest until their companion could be with them again. It was a blessing to serve them. “Mama Faye” did a great job “mothering” them!

We have been participating in lessons with Sarah, an amazing woman in her 30s who was so ready for baptism yesterday! Last Sunday, she said, “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the next six days! I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin because I’m so excited about being baptized!” She calls us her “Church parents”! How awesome is that?! (We will definitely be carryng a New Zealand “daughter” in our hearts when we come home!) She even asked me to baptize her! Sarah’s lessons have been at the church building and the missionaries have invited us to attend them. On Thursday, she invited us (and the missionaries) to her apartment so we could bless it to be a place where she can be protected both spiritually and physically. I felt guided by the Spirit as I was voice for that blessing. Experiences like these are yet another evidence that this is The Church of Jesus Christ, where His authority is dispersed to as many men who are willing to be obedient to His commandments and are authorized to exercise His priesthood in His name (rather than one or a few men who are leaders, as is the case in all/most other churches).

The baptismal service yesterday was very inspirational! Sarah was glowing before, during and after the service. One of the young missionaries confirmed her a member of the Church today and blessed her to receive the Holy Ghost. When I think of how her “countenance” was when we first met her a few weeks ago…compared with how it is now…it is truly miraculous to see that conversion, that transformation. What a privilege to have a front-row seat and to be a part of this experience! Jesus Christ can do miraculous things with people who are willing to turn their lives over to them.

A man in his 30s was also baptized yesterday. He is from Peru and is an engineer on the temple being built in Auckland. He helped build a temple in Peru and another in Chile…but just was not ready to join the Church at that time. Because I speak Spanish, the missionaries invited me to several of his lessons and I helped explain some of the more complex ideas to him in Spanish. It has also been a privilege to be a part of his conversion process.

On Friday, we had a phone interview about possibly being on the podcast, “Bereaved But Still Me.” A friend who lost her daughter to congenital heart disease and is involved with the podcast invited us. It was a good experience to talk to them, then for Faye and me to review the script for the actual podcast. We hope it will be useful for those who need/want to learn from our experiences. (It was also interesting to catch a glimpse of how podcasts are created. There was a lot of prep work going on behind the scenes!)

I did a Zoom training for the incoming president (and his wife) for the mission that includes Vanuatu/New Caledonia/Solomon Islands (island nations in the south Pacific). We covered the Church’s resources that are available to help them care for the missionaries’ physical and mental health. They sure seem like great folks…as mission leaders always are!

I have been reading the Book of Mormon over the phone with a lady from Mexico who lives in NZ with her husband and son and who wants to speak better English. She reads a verse aloud in Spanish (for comprehension), then again in English…and I help her with pronunciation and subtleties of the English language. I’m sure glad I learned English as a child! It sure seems hard to learn as an adult!

Yesterday, I called one of my former mission companions…from 39 years ago! It sure was good to hear his voice again! It was good to hear about him and his family. Serving as mission companions sure creates some lasting friendships!
One of the families who live in our apartment complex are from India and they practice Zoro-Astrianism. The man has shared several videos and articles with me about his religion. I shared a Book of Mormon with him and some other things about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Here are some things that I have read, heard and/or thought about recently:

  • The great law of the Iriquois is that our most sacred duty is to think seven generations ahead when making any decision.
  • Life is like a fitness center; growth is hard and is sometimes painful.
  • Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.
  • I like to think of God encouraging me with these words: “You don’t know everything, but you know enough. You are strong enough for this…because I am with you.”
  • I listened to the audiobook of “The Boy Crisis,” which I recommend. In it, the author talks about “Hero Intelligence” vs “Health Intelligence.” Why are more men and boys dying from suicide? Could it have something to do with society rewarding boys for developing “Hero Intelligence,” at the expense of their “Health Intelligence”?
  • As I read in the scriptures about adversity, I wondered: How did the righteous/believing women and children being burned bless their righteous surviving men who were cast out of Ammonihah before this atrocity was committed against their loved ones (Alma 14)? I don’t think the scriptures comment on that, but I believe God blessed in some way for their faithfulness amidst affliction. Thinking about this caused me to ask myself this question: How have I been blessed because of Ashton suicide? I will give that some thought and write what comes to my mind and heart, then share as appropriate.

I haven’t written as much lately partly because I went through a “rough patch” for a couple of months. I am working on a letter with more details about that; I hope to send it out this week — for those who are interested. Overall, I think my grief is improving. One measure of that observation is this: Last year, we went to a party at a local family’s house, celebrating the signing of the Waitangi Treaty between the British and the Maori in 1840. It was about a week after the anniversary of Ashton’s death. When I’m feeling low, it’s hard for me to be around people for very long; after about an hour last year, I was ready to go home. This year, we went to the same party…and I was still feeling good after being there for two hours! I commented to Faye on the way home about how much better my “party stamina” was this year! What a blessing!

I love yous all! (This is how people from Tonga and Samoa commonly say “you” when several people are included.)

Praying for Suraya

Monday, March 1, 2021. Written by Faye.

This morning, I walked with a group of ladies to the beach for our morning walk. We wanted to collect shells for a project we are doing. We saw a big flock of birds out on the beach surrounding something. We thought it was a fish, but it was a little hammerhead shark! It was still alive so a man tried to save it by throwing it back into the ocean. On our way back we found the shark washed back up on the beach. It didn’t look good at all. Poor little thing! I was wondering where it’s momma was. A local woman decided that it needed to be thrown away so the birds and dogs don’t start playing with it. We told her we would do it but we took some pictures before we did. Finding that shark was pretty exciting, even for the locals. On the way home from the beach walk we got caught in a downpour and were soaking when we got back home but it was fun!

We are on lockdown again in the Auckland area for a week as of Sunday because there’s one new case in the community that can’t be traced to a source. They think it’s one of the new strains. We are back to level 3. The grocery stores are open and we can get take out but everything else is closed…. and no church meetings. We were supposed to fly out to the South Island Sunday morning but the trip got canceled. We have another trip planned to Dunedin in March. I hope we get to go on that one.

About 3 days ago, I was getting in the elevator on the bottom floor to go up to our 4th floor apartment. A lady from India got on with me and pushed the 1st floor button. I wondered why she was using the elevator if she was only going to the first floor. She was quiet but I saw her looking at my missionary badge. I smiled at her and just before she got off she said, “Can you pray for me? My foot is not healing. My name is Suraya.” And then she spelled her name slowly…. S.U.R.A.Y.A. (Pronounced like Mariah) I told her  of course I would pray for her and thanked her for asking me. She stepped off the elevator with a little limp and I rode up to my floor. When I walked in my apartment I told Carter what happened and I got teary thinking of the trust she had in me to ask me to pray for her. She must have been desperate for help. It’s another testament that who I represent is so important. I wonder if she would have asked me to pray for her if I didn’t have that badge on. Carter suggested we kneel and pray right then. We did. I put her name on the prayer roll of the Gila Valley Temple and we have been praying for  Suraya. I have been asking Heavenly Father if I could meet up with her again to see how she’s doing. I know she lives on the first floor in building A but I don’t know which apartment.

Love to all ….Faye