One thought on something I learned this morning. Jesus planned for Peter to accomplish great things and trained him accordingly. When the fishers returned with empty nets, Jesus told them to go out to the deep waters and told them exactly where to cast their nets. They followed his guidance exactly and the boats started to sink because of the size of the catch. So it can be with us as missionaries, fishers of men. We have been called to go out to the deep waters I have been blessed to have several beautiful experiences during my time in Italy. My boat was under construction, but now is ready to set sail. I have already witnessed multiple miracles through my willingness to trust the direction of the Holy Ghost to leave the safety of the shore and venture into the deep waters.
I am so busy teaching that we have never set aside time to do finding on the street, much less going door to door. I have been guided to the people who Heavenly Father specifically places in my path because in His grand plan I was trusted to bring the light of the gospel to their lives. I have the companion who will be my support and mentor as I obtain the vision of all that I can truly accomplish during my limited time here. There is so much joy in our service. Even as we run around our house because there is so little time, our hearts of full and we glory in our opportunity to act as instruments in the hands of the Lord to bring about the full knowledge of the blessings He desires for each and every of His children. I have gained a deeper appreciation of those blessings as I recognize the contrasts.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
La vita italiana
Today I thought to share a bit more of the typical day my life here.
First off, my companion. Sorella Teichert hails from the proud state of Wyoming where she grew up the oldest of six children. She can't remember how old she was when she first learned how to ride a horse and has spent every summer helping out on the family ranch. Before the mission, she was studying genetics with a minor in international development at BYU and is one year away from graduating. I couldn't ask for a better companion and consider myself lucky to serve with her.
The sun rises well before six and we can hear the cars of those leaving for work all morning long. I smile when I hear them honking, as the horn simply acts an extension of the Italian persona. They are quick to use it and never want to be left out if someone else starts using his or hers.
When we leave in the morning, the women have their small carts for doing their shopping at the various small stores (There is one store outside of town about the size of Walmart call Auchan, but the Italians consider it exhausting to shop there). We have many friends that we pass each day who have known generations of sister missionaries. They are very kind and never miss the chance to say hello. Each morning we pass the men's club, a group of older gentlemen who sit in the park and talk all morning..afternoon..whenever. There is also a man who like to sit by himself and always bring leftover pasta for the stray dogs, especially the large dog that my predecessors named Samson.
From one to four, PRANZO. The entire city shuts down for lunch. We are not allowed to make calls or visits during this time outside of a scheduled lunch visit, so we return to our apartment to study. We often see all of the children heading home to have lunch with their families.
Life begins again slowly in the afternoon. I've learned not to count on any store being open until around five or five-thirty. We pass the afternoon/evening teaching, attending the Relief Society Activity or Young Women Activity, or teaching English courses.
The sun sets early here. Yet as we live across from the PalaMazzola (the basketball/volleyball stadium), we can often here the shouting roars of the crowd at every exciting moment of the match.
Today we wandered the streets of Old Taranto, were regaled stories of how the Greeks settled Taranto in 706 B.C., and made friends with the toothless Carmella, who doesn't read or write, but gave me some great insights on how to improve my skills at the Italian style of crocheting. It brought back many memories of living in Siena: narrow streets, tall palazzi, and university students heading to class in various parts of the city. Sorella and I continued the city's tradition of putting a lock with our names on the Ponte Girevole, signifying that a part of our hearts will always remain here in Taranto.
I can hardly believe that I have almost lived a month in this beautiful city. I can't wait to see what opportunities and experiences the next month will bring, much less the next sixteen months.
Until next time,
Sorella Lovell
First off, my companion. Sorella Teichert hails from the proud state of Wyoming where she grew up the oldest of six children. She can't remember how old she was when she first learned how to ride a horse and has spent every summer helping out on the family ranch. Before the mission, she was studying genetics with a minor in international development at BYU and is one year away from graduating. I couldn't ask for a better companion and consider myself lucky to serve with her.
The sun rises well before six and we can hear the cars of those leaving for work all morning long. I smile when I hear them honking, as the horn simply acts an extension of the Italian persona. They are quick to use it and never want to be left out if someone else starts using his or hers.
When we leave in the morning, the women have their small carts for doing their shopping at the various small stores (There is one store outside of town about the size of Walmart call Auchan, but the Italians consider it exhausting to shop there). We have many friends that we pass each day who have known generations of sister missionaries. They are very kind and never miss the chance to say hello. Each morning we pass the men's club, a group of older gentlemen who sit in the park and talk all morning..afternoon..whenever. There is also a man who like to sit by himself and always bring leftover pasta for the stray dogs, especially the large dog that my predecessors named Samson.
From one to four, PRANZO. The entire city shuts down for lunch. We are not allowed to make calls or visits during this time outside of a scheduled lunch visit, so we return to our apartment to study. We often see all of the children heading home to have lunch with their families.
Life begins again slowly in the afternoon. I've learned not to count on any store being open until around five or five-thirty. We pass the afternoon/evening teaching, attending the Relief Society Activity or Young Women Activity, or teaching English courses.
The sun sets early here. Yet as we live across from the PalaMazzola (the basketball/volleyball stadium), we can often here the shouting roars of the crowd at every exciting moment of the match.
Today we wandered the streets of Old Taranto, were regaled stories of how the Greeks settled Taranto in 706 B.C., and made friends with the toothless Carmella, who doesn't read or write, but gave me some great insights on how to improve my skills at the Italian style of crocheting. It brought back many memories of living in Siena: narrow streets, tall palazzi, and university students heading to class in various parts of the city. Sorella and I continued the city's tradition of putting a lock with our names on the Ponte Girevole, signifying that a part of our hearts will always remain here in Taranto.
I can hardly believe that I have almost lived a month in this beautiful city. I can't wait to see what opportunities and experiences the next month will bring, much less the next sixteen months.
Until next time,
Sorella Lovell
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Buona Festa!
As hard as it may be to believe, Taranto is gearing up to
celebrate another holiday tomorrow. I think I have discovered why they have to
attend school Monday-Saturday: They simply wanted to be able to pick a
different day off every week. Since my arrival, there has been a major holiday
every week. The other night there were even fireworks and we have no idea why.
Italians simply enjoy a good party.
Last week, we arranged our first meeting with a woman that
Slla. Teichert contacted on the street some weeks ago. Emi has left me amazed
everytime that we meet. Whenever we read a scripture, she instantly responds to
the question that we never asked of what we can learn from this scripture.
All I can say is that there are those who lead themselves to the truth because
of the immensity of their faith. Our task is simply to teach the information
that she needs to learn and she accepts it as though she had always known it. I
feel humbled to have the opportunity to know the power of her complete faith in
the love and miracles of Heavenly Father. We have continued to meet often with
her and her family. It has been an amazing experience.
Because of my companion's sister's departure to Jordan this
weekend, we called our families last Sunday. It was a special experience to
reunite with a few of those who are so dear to my heart. Their love touched my
heart in a way that nothing else ever will. I feel very blessed for my family.
Even in the short time that I have spent away from them, our memories together
have become even sweeter. Yet I revel in the opportunity that is now presented
me to strengthen families in a society that seems determined to fight against
them.
I hope this letter finds you well in whatever you are doing.
Sorella Lovell
Friday, May 4, 2012
First Weeks in Taranto
I am starting to learn what it means to live in southern
Italy during the summer. I have officially changed skin color in the past two
days. I'm hoping to pass from my white of the Utah winter to tan with as much
grace as possible. It's going pretty well so far, though the elders laughed at
me when I borrowed an idea from the Asian tourist and took my umbrella to use
as we were in the sun for P-Day this morning. My first Zone Conference is
tomorrow, so I have no desire to show up feverish and unable to move thanks to
a fresh, blistering sunburn. Even so, our visit to Taranto Vecchio, or old
Taranto, was awesome, complete with old Greek/Roman/Spanish/Byzantine/Italian
Castle/Fort/Prision/City Attraction thanks to the local Navy Base.
I have to run, but the work here is definately different
then I expected. We are not short of people who want to listen to us or meet
with us. The question is how to help them transitioning from listening to
feeling. I am hoping to receive some insight at conference tomorrow.
Tanti Cari Saluti!
Sorella Lovell
First Day in Rome
This is a picture that Erica's Mission President sent us of her first day in Rome. It's in front of the Mission Office. We're so glad that she arrived safely, and we're very excited for all the experiences that are to come in her first months on her mission.
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