Thankful

It's the last week of the transfer...I've been in Lyon for three (the same amount of time I was in Bayonne), and I've been with Soeur Vidal for two transfers (the most I've ever been with anyone), so I'm thinking something is going to change next transfer. To be honest, what I really want is to go to some tiny village in the mountains and trudge around in the snow and knock on doors for a transfer. all day yesterday, I was thinking, "I don't think I can do this sister training leader thing for another transfer." I feel like I've given all the advice and love I know how to give, and I'm running a little empty. Not so much in a selfish way, but just in "I think my battery has lost its charge" kind of way. Time to recharge before I can be useful to anyone again. Preferably I want to recharge in a little mountain village with lots of snow where we're the only missionaries for miles. Hahaha. But then right after I thought of a story I read about Spencer W Kimball once when he was called to be prophet, and how he battled for a long time with it because he felt he wasn't qualified (obviously this is a bit of a stretch of a comparison.). That's mostly how I feel lately though--that I don't know exactly how to help the sisters I work with, and I feel there are so many other people who really could do a much better job. But then I thought of those stories, and I thought, "Well, if this is where He wants me, then He'll help me do what He needs me to do." I read a scripture in 2 Timothy 1:9 this morning:

Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began.

So that makes me feel better. If I'm called to do this another transfer, He'll teach me what I need to do and how.

This week we've been sharing Mosiah 3:1-9 with a lot of families when we visit them. We're talking and teaching about ministering. I love verse 6, that says that Jesus cast out devils...or in OTHER words, the evil spirits which dwell in the hearts of the children of men. We see this all the time, in ourselves and in others--evil spirits of loneliness and selfishness and miserliness and worry and frustration and grudge-holding and bitterness and fear and self-consciousness and shame and sorrow... I mean, Coldplay calls these things "death and all of his friends." And this is what the Savior does--He chases all these things out of our hearts. And this is what we have power to do, as his disciples, to chase these things out of people's hearts. This is ministering. And so we're asking people who they know who is sad or weak or lonely or scared and needs healing.

Thanksgiving...well, we had district meeting,; then when to a friend's house and ate...curry and nems! (Nems are like egg rolls. They're super good and French people (or maybe just French Mormons, not sure yet) are OBSESSED with them. We made them at a ward activity a couple weeks ago, and there were HUNDREDS left over, so a bunch of members took them home and froze them. Then this week (hahaha) we've been fed nems every time we go to a member's house. Best.) The day was pretty tranquil...didn't really do anything special, actually. 

Funny story of the week: a man on the metro accused me of being a spy. He was like, "My brother works for Interpol. Do you know that the Mormons are spies? Yep. They have a bio on every person living in Europe. They are SPIES." And I was like, "Actually, Monsieur, that is not true." with a big smile on my face. And he was like, "Well you don't know about it, but it's true. You're a spy." And I was like, "Actually...I'm a missionary." Him: "Well I'm a missionary too. But we don't do missionary work in the same way." Me, laughing: "You're right, you accuse people of being spies! I'm just trying to invite you to learn about Jesus Christ!" Hahahaha the whole conversation was HILARIOUS. And kinda sad that he really believes that. But it's okay, he's going to have a really awesome experience with the Spirit one day and then he'll have a good story to tell his grandchildren.

Merry December!