Chapter One

The Missionary Training Center

Life is inexorable. It allows for no breaks, no pauses, no chances to rest and catch
one’s breath. As soon as one task is finished, five more line up and clamor for attention.
To bask in the glow of a job well done is a luxury few can afford. Thus it was when I
returned home, after a mission well served, in June of 1998.
No sooner had I stepped off the jetway when life once more demanded that I live it.
I had to find employment, reestablish relationships with my family, touch base with my
friends, and through it all maintain the high spiritual health I had developed while
serving in Tampico, Mexico. To this end, I continued to pray, read my scriptures, and
attend my Sunday meetings. A month after returning home, my bishop called me to
teach Sunday School to the thriteen and fourteen year old class, of which my sister was a
part.
I was not due to return to BYU until the beginning of winter semester. Thus, I
appraoached the coming months with eagerness and zeal. I spent my time working at the
family business, visiting with former friends, and volunteering in the baptistry at the
Denver Temple. The enthusiasm and momentum from my mission carried me saftely
through the first few months of awkward readjustments. However, as summer faded into
autumn, a profound meloncholy and restlessness entered my life. Though I had tried to
recconnect with my former friends, I had learned to my sorrow that the intervening years
had moved us all onto separate paths, moving us in different directions. Many brisk
September evenings found me wrapped in a moody lonliness.
For three more months I waited, looking forward to going back to school and once
more progressing with my life. During those days, I was still able to find moments of
hope and happiness, times when I could lift my head above the smog of self-pity. I found
joy in temple service, and though my friends and I had parted ways, I developed an
honest friendship with my parents. Although my life was not onerus, I was nevertheless
anxious to continue with my education.
 WALKING THE DUSTY ROAD

In January 1999, I returned to Brigham Young University, where I officially declared

my major in Geology. It was a large departure from my original educational goal, but I
had prayed about the decision in the temple and felt confident about my direction. I
moved into an old, two-story apartment complex across the street from the Taco Bell on
9th East, a twenty minute walk from campus. As I began attending classes once more, I
made new friends, and was even able to reconnect with old friends in a way I had not
been able to back in Colorado.
My new student ward was like many congregations at BYU. The first semester get-
to-know you activities were not repeated at the commencement of the second semester,
and many of the year’s friendships and circles had already been formed. Although some
effort was made to greet those of us new to the ward, no one stepped forward with a
welcoming hand or tried to integrate me into the ward family. As the semester
progressed, I found it more and more difficult to find the motivation to attend my
meetings. Who would miss me? I asked myself. I determined that I could find more
spiritual growth by reading Bruce R. McConkie by myself then spending two hours in
classrooms with a group of strangers. I began a slow decent into inactivity.
At my lowest point, when I felt lost and lonely and confused, I saw a light at the end
of the proverbial tunnel. One day, while walking to class, I crossed paths with William
Griffin, with whom I had served in Mexico. He told me of his recent trip to Tampico and
I began to think that perhaps that far off time and place were not so very far off after all.
As my heart longed for renewed spiritual feasting, I began to reason that the best way to
start a spiritual revival in my life was to return to the place where my spirit had been at
its strongest—Tampico, Mexico.
And so the idea of returning to my erstwhile fields of labor was born. It was more to
me than just a friendly visit, or a chance to check up on the people I loved so dearly. For
me, it was a pilgrimage. Somehow, somewhere, in the last year, I had lost the vision and
drive that was so necessary for a life well lived.
As my excitement grew, I spent more and more time not only dreaming of the
upcoming trip, but also remembering the past. This would not be the first time I had
travelled by myself into an unknown future. Three years previous, I said a tearful
farewell to my friends and family and began the greatest adventrue of my life.

Wednesday, June 5, 1996

I left home this morning at eight. We went and picked up Beckie and
Grant. We then drove to the airport. Jason, Shawn, RJ, his mother, Michelle
Douglass, and Mel Cruz were waiting for us there. My flight was delayed twenty-
five minutes. I received my father’s copy of A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, by
LeGrand Richards from RJ’s mother.
When my family had slipped into inactivity eight years previous, they gave
away most of their church books. One of these was the abovementioned book. It
was the copy my father had used on his mission. When I started going back to
church in my freshman year of high school, Sister Roxanne Phillips, who was then
in possession of the book, planned for this day, and planned on giving me this
very special copy of Elder Richard’s book. Since I had already bought my own
copy, and felt like I didn’t need two, I gave away my extra copy to Melanie Cruz,

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who was not a member of the Church. This was, it seems, my first proselyting as
a missionary. My father’s copy of A Marvelous Work and a Wonder became one
of my most cherished possessions and helped me to feel a connection with my
father during the hard times of my mission.
I left my family and friends, my mother cried, and I flew to Salt Lake City.
They drove me to Provo in a van. I rode with two other elders, one from
Maryland going to Detroit, and the other from Seattle going to Pittsburgh. We
arrived in Provo at one o’clock. My former roommate, Tim Chartrand, was there
to meet me. We put my luggage in a room and went to an orientation and
welcome. The two of us paid very little attention to the presentation; we had both
bid farewell to so many friends in the last six months that we knew all the beats in
the presentation and were able to crack the jokes before the speaker did.
I then said good-bye to Tim, left the room, left the building, got in line,
had my picture taken, and received my nametag and house key. I was told to get a
haircut, and then they checked my immunizations. I received my books and
supplies, which included a Spanish-English dictionary, a copy of the discussions
in both English and Spanish, and “Spanish for Missionaries.” I then went to my
dorm, got my haircut, retrieved my luggage, and unpacked. I met my roommates
and my companion.
We went to dinner, where I saw Noah Huntsman—who no one thought
would serve a mission, but was scheduled to leave for Ecuador soon—and Jared
Hutchings—who was leaving for Uruguay a few weeks after Noah. I talked with
them both. Dinner that night was a choice of spaghetti or meatloaf. Neither
looked that appetizing to me, but since the spaghetti meal came with a side of
garlic bread, I chose the former. I also had a helping of Waldorf salad. We then
went home (that is, to my dorm). Later, we went to a meeting with the Assistant
to the President, and then met our teachers with the rest of my district. We came
home and I started writing in my journal.
I’m a little nervous about this whole MTC thing. Saying good-bye wasn’t
as hard as I thought it would be, though I’m already missing my family. Seeing
friends tonight really made a difference. I hope I do well. I can’t believe that I’m
a missionary already! Still hasn’t sunk in that I’ll be gone for two years.
Still in shock.
Looking forward to and dreading the future.
I am happy.

Thursday, June 6, 1996

We woke up at six, and then showered and ate breakfast. I attended an

orientation with President Barney. It lasted three hours, but was very interesting.
I even took notes. This was one of the only meetings in my entire mission where I
took notes. It was about teaching with the spirit, and I found the topic and style of
presentation to be fascinating. However, I soon learned that there are a plethora
of meetings at the MTC, and I quickly lost momentum and didn't take notes in
many other meetings.

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We ate lunch and then attended our first class—P.M. Class: Commitment
Pattern, Brother Meik teaching. Brother Meik was the oldest of our instructors, in
both age and time spent teaching at the Mission Training Center. He had a
pregnant wife and a receding hairline. Hermano Meik (pronounced MEEK) was
energetic, enthusiastic, and very obedient to mission rules. We tried to sing
“Spirit of God” in Spanish, but it sounded horrible. We went to dinner and then
attended a meeting with President Gappmeyer, our branch president. I like him. I
had a short interview with him. He asked me to bear my testimony to the district.
I did so, came home, and showered.
I love it here. The last couple of days have been slow and it’s been hard
for me. But I’m starting to feel the spirit of this place—a spirit matched only by
the temple. My roommates are cool and I am looking forward to the next few
months serving and growing with them. They are:
Elder Jared Callister: from Boise, Idaho. He’s my companion. Seems to
be an agreeable and likable fellow. He was a very relaxed missionary, but also
very obedient. He was also the first in our group to become senior companion,
and was made district and zone leader shortly thereafter. He served as ZL for
over a year and then finished his mission as a branch president in Tanquian. He
had grown up in Hawaii and still carried with him the relaxed attitudes of that
culture.
Elder Michael Felley: from San Diego, California. He’s a Latino and is
pretty active and vocal. He had more energy than could have possibly been
contained in his wiry frame. He picked up the language much faster than the rest
of us and was often a guide and an inspiration, as well as a provider of comic
relief, for the entire district. His best friend from high school was later called to
the Tampico Mission, and eventually the two of them served together in Ciudad
Victoria and broke nearly every mission record. He finished his mission as an
Assistant to the President.
Elder Chad Fister: from Fullerton, California. He’s a tall and athletic type.
So far, he’s pretty cool. He was one of only three freshmen to play on BYU’s
varsity basketball team in 1995, and his love of sports often dictated our P-Day
activities. He set the mission on fire when he was a zone leader in Victoria by
baptizing an unheard-of eleven people in a single month. He was Assistant to the
President towards the end of his mission, and finished as a zone leader in
Tampico.
Elder Clark Taylor: from Monticello, Utah. He’s quiet but can be very
funny. I think we’ll have fun. Elder Taylor was very devout and serious about
his mission. He was often worried about serving in Mexico, mostly because he
threw up three or four times a week during our first month at the MTC.
Nevertheless, he was one of the first of us to become a zone leader, served several
months as a branch president in Soto La Marina, and finished his mission in the
offices as Secretary to the President.
Elder Michael Stauffer: from Afton, Wyoming. He’s really quiet.
However, I think he’ll make a great missionary. His frame was compact and
muscular; he was a wrestler in high school. Stauffer was quiet and unassuming,

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and could stay focused on Scripture study, even while Elders Felley and Hasty
were clowning around. He thus earned the nickname “The Rock." Elder Stauffer
finished his mission in Tampico as a zone leader.
Elder Michael Tonks: from Los Alamos, New Mexico. He was incredibly
intelligent and smart. Tonks was often the brunt of our jokes but always took it
with extreme good humor. He was my zone leader in Madero for a time before
being called to the offices to serve as Assistant to the President, where he finished
his mission.
Elder David Watkins: from Idaho Falls, Idaho. Of the twelve of us in the
district, he was the only one who had taken no high-school Spanish. He struggled
so hard to learn the language, and as our MTC district leader, we often rallied
around him. He finished his mission as a zone leader in Valle Hermosa.
We’re all going to Mexico Tampico. Bonds to last a lifetime will be
forged.
The other two elders in our district were:
Elder Geoffrey Hasty: from somewhere in Vermont, though he got tired of
saying that and started telling people he was from northern Utah, where he had
lived for the last year. He and Felley were the class clowns, often bouncing jokes
back and forth off each other to the point where we could no longer breathe for
laughing so hard.
Elder Jose Castillo: from Salt Lake City, UT. He was a convert and often
struggled with the rules and regulations of the MTC. He and Felley became fast
friends, and I think that Felley had a powerful impact on Castillo’s mission.
Both Elders Hasty and Castillo were preparing to serve missions in
Tijuana.

Friday, June 7, 1996

I had an interesting experience today. We discovered a fount of

information: Hermano Frandsen, an instructor down the hall who had served in
the Mexico Tampico Mission a year and a half previously. I had asked him the
uppermost question on my mind—if he had ever gotten serious diarrhea. The
sisters in the district, Hermanas Bachman and Leipic, were shocked that I even
asked such a question. I realized then that I had said something not befitting my
calling as a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ. It was nothing horrendous or
heinous, yet it was still wrong.
An hour and a half later, one of the sisters in the district mentioned my
earlier comment. I was ashamed. I planned to apologize to the two sisters at the
end of class. However, when the end came, I lost my nerve. But, I later found
myself alone for a brief time with them. I realized that I had been given the
opportunity to make amends for my misdeed. It is such a small thing, yet by small
and simple things are great things accomplished. By small and simple things we
can know the Lord loves us.
Perhaps this story is a bit melodramatic, but I was trying so hard at the
time to be an ambassador of the Lord Jesus Christ. I wanted to be the best

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missionary ever and even had delusions of grandeur—often dreaming of the great
and marvelous works that I would bring to pass in Tampico. This experience
reminded me of two things—that I am human, and that the Lord loves me,
imperfections and all.

Saturday, June 8, 1996

After gym today, we all took showers. However, no one remembered to

bring a key. It was quite humorous. We were locked out of our room—all six of
us, all naked and wet. Elder Hasty from next door helped us out by running to the
office for a spare key. We decided that day that since we were living in a small
community of God’s chosen servants there was no need to lock our door. This
was also the day that one member of our district decided that wearing a towel
was a waste of time, and began trekking to the bathroom and back naked as the
day he was born.
I need to learn quiet dignity. I’ve never learned it before, but have always
longed for it. I guess I should do so now. I wish my district didn’t screw around
so much. We have fun, but sometimes at the expense of our studies. I am guilty
of this spirit of levity, also. Often times during periods that were supposed to be
for personal studies, we would instead talk and laugh and joke. Some of us made
a pretense of studying, but mostly we just goofed around. Stauffer, the Rock, was
the exception.
During these first two months of training I suffered from my most intense
mood swings. This was the first of a downward swing. I wanted so much to be a
great missionary, serious, and full of faith and power, but more often than not, I
made jokes, laughed, and had a good time. It wasn’t until later in my mission that
I realized that the Lord does not want perfect, homogenous soldiers, but rather,
He wants us to be ourselves, so that He can use our unique talents to bring souls
unto Him.

Sunday, June 9, 1996

I need to change the views that I’ve always had about my life. I have
always believed that I would someday be a leader of men—a great, moving force
in the kingdom of God. However, this is just not going to be. Elder Watkins was
called to be our district leader. This seemed very natural to all of us, since Wattie
was such a sincere and humble missionary. However, at one level, I was
disappointed, because I still harbored unrighteous aspirations of leadership. It
took me time and effort to overcome those feelings, but overcome them I did, and
was all the more blessed for it.
I am an ordinary man. I have come to know that the most important thing
I can do in this life is to raise up a righteous family unto the Lord. I will serve
Him all my life, but as a common soldier in His army, not as a general. For now, I
will serve. I do not need to lead. Only to serve the Redeemer of my soul, the

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Creator of Heaven and Earth, the Lord Jesus Christ, whom I love with all my
heart. And so it is written, and so it must be, and so I must accept it.

Monday, June 10, 1996

I feel like we’re finally settling in to the demanding schedule of the MTC.
The day went smoothly, and everyone in the district is learning to conduct
themselves with quiet dignity, even Elder Hasty. I find it interesting how a group
of young men and young women, total strangers to begin with, thrown together
24/7, can mesh together as a team in less than a week. I am confident that my
district can handle any problem, conquer any challenge, face down any situation,
take on the world. I also find it interesting how quickly a reputation can be
formed. Already I am the intellectual scriptorian. Ay caramba!
That night, I finally met up with an old friend from high school, Benjamin
King. He was leaving for Rome the following day, and it was exciting to see how
much he had changed in the brief years since we had last seen each other. I
hoped that such changes were in store for me, as well, during my sojourn in the
Mission Training Center.

Tuesday, June 11, 1996

Today was P-Day, and despite this fact, I broke my spiritual block. I just
haven’t been feeling the spirit as strongly as I thought I should. That first week
was long and arduous. Fatigue wore us all down, and by the time this first
Preparation Day came around, I was so tired that I felt spiritually out of step.
But when I walked into the Celestial Room of the Provo Temple, the spirit
washed over me like the waves of the sea. I nearly cried.
I wrote six letters (To my family, to Adrianne Nash, and to a few others)
and bore my testimony in each of them. The spirit just continued to grow. Then, I
sang for Richard G. Scott in the MTC Choir and then learned of the Atonement
from him. He spoke about searching the scriptures, and bore his testimony, a
testimony, he said, that went beyond faith. He knew. At the end of his talk, he
dedicated time for questions and answers, and in typical talk-show style, had
ushers with microphones on the prowl.
I am on fire now. The spirit is pulsing through my veins. I want to bring
this joyous message to all the world, and share the message of love and hope. I
am ready to lose myself in the work and learn what my Father can teach.

Extracts from a Letter to my Parents

“I love it here! The MTC is awesome. A spirit exists here like no other. It’s
a cross between a monastery and a military camp. A monastery because you’re so
secluded and sheltered, and a military camp because of the rigorous schedule we
keep. It’s also cool to think of the 3,000 missionaries here who are building
themselves physically, spiritually, and mentally to go into the world and bring souls
to Christ.

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“My schedule is as follows: wake up every morning at 6:00 am. Eat breakfast
at 6:30. We are in class by 7:15. We spend 45 minutes in personal gospel study.
Brother Thomas comes in at 8:00 and teaches us how to teach the discussions. We
get out of class at 11:15 and go to eat lunch. At 12:30 we have some sort of activity.
On Mondays it’s a Large Group Meeting. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays
it’s gym. On Wednesdays and Fridays its personal study time. We are in class again
at 1:45 p.m. and read the Book of Mormon in Spanish. Brother Meik comes at 2:00
and teaches us the Commitment Pattern—how to use and develop our skills to teach
the gospel. We get out at 5:00 and go to dinner. Then we’re back in class at 6:00
and read the Book of Mormon in English for a half hour. Sister Brady comes at 6:30
and teaches us Spanish until 9:30. We then go home, write in journals, etc. and go to
bed at 10:30. That’s over nine hours of classes!!! All in the same room!!! I love it!!!
“The Sunday schedule is different. We wake up at 6:00 am, like always.
However, breakfast is not served on Sundays, so we take a nice leisurely shower. Or
about as leisurely as can be expected in a community bathroom—15 showers and no
hot water, usually. We have a one-hour district meeting at 7:00. Priesthood meeting
at 9:00, gospel study at 11:15, and then lunch. Sacrament doesn’t start until 3:00
p.m. and we have a light supper afterwards. At 5:15 my comp and I go to the choir
practice, and then there is a fireside and another gospel study (kinda like Sunday
School).
“Today was P-Day, and our schedule is like this: wake up at 6:00 am. Service
project (cleaning the gymnasium) from 6:30 to 7:30. Breakfast, temple, lunch,
laundry, and letters. And then sleeeeeeeep!!! Tonight we have a fireside (Richard G.
Scott of the Twelve) and a district meeting. P-Day is officially over at 6:00 p.m..
“I’m really getting into the spirit of the work. The other day, we practiced
street contacting. Brother Meik put us on a timer, as we role-played the scenario
with our companions. First we had to do it (that is: approach, build a relationship of
trust, prepare the contact to feel and recognize the spirit, give the contact a Book of
Mormon, and make an appointment) in seven minutes. Then we had three, then one
and a half, then 30 seconds. Then we moved up, to one and a half, then three, then
seven again. The purpose of the activity was to figure out the most essential things
that need to be said, and build on those, rather than on other, less important
statements. However, the overlying lesson in this and all my classes, is let yourself be
guided by the spirit.
“In all my district, I’ve taken the most Spanish. This has automatically
promoted me to Spanish Tutor. Its not an honor I would like nor am comfortable
with—I was never very good at Spanish (I got B's). However, I do help where I can
and learn what I must.
“I’ve also found myself in a role that I’ve played before. Elder Hasty claims
that I have the entire Standard Works memorized. Now, this is a role (scriptorian)
that I’m comfortable and familiar with. I can deal with it easily.”

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Wednesday, June 12, 1996

I became so truly humble today. I noticed an aspect of my personality that

I’ve always made excuses for, and looked it squarely in the face. I wish I knew
how to overcome pride, for every time I humble myself, I feel proud that I’ve done
so, thus negating my humility. Ay caramba! Before my mission, I was the only
person in my family that actively attended church. Because of this, I often lost
myself to an overabundance of zealotry and devotion.
I reviewed my old Spanish grammar tonight and am now feeling much
more confident. I am filled with excitement. I had actually been feeling a little
worried about speaking real Spanish to real Mexicans, and I was having trouble
remembering some of the tenses that I had learned in Mrs. Joseph’s Spanish class
back at Gateway High School. This night, I forged ahead in our Spanish text
book, reviewing those forgotten tenses, and went away from the exercise feeling
much more confident about the future.

Thursday, June 13, 1996

My excitement has given way to homesickness. That happened rather

fast, don’t you think? I received my first letters from home and I miss it! I’m not
adjusting well to having a companion—I’ve always been a solitary worker, even
among my friends. Callister was a difficult person to get close to and I often felt
alienated and alone. Fister and Felley were instant best friends, and at the same
time, I was struggling to get to know my companion.
I was also struggling with some very personal issues. My struggle with
pride is a losing battle. I’m not ready to serve a mission; I’m still so immature. I
have some growing up to do. And I miss my family, my friends: Shawn, Zach,
Rebekah, Jason, Darren. . . . And yet, I know this is where I should be. I still can’t
help longing for the life I left behind.

Friday, June 14, 1996

I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that the curse of my life has returned with
force. If it ever had, in fact, left me. I still suffer from a low self-esteem, though
it manifests itself in tricky and subtle means. I know who I am and where I am
going, but this does nothing for this new manifestation of the old curse. My views
of myself and relationships with people are of a klutzy, spastic, awkward kid. I
know I shouldn’t worry about this now, but I ask myself, why? Why am I not
confident in my relationships with others? Why does this curse follow me
around? I am walking a thin line between pride and self-pity.
Frequent mood swings were the norm for me in the MTC. However, since
then I have thought that much of what was wrong with me at that time was Satan
whispering to me that I was going to fail as a missionary. On this day he
reminded me of my sub-standard social skills. I didn’t know how to talk to people

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comfortably, having spent my youth and adolescence with my nose in various

books. Where do I turn? Only one place—my Lord and Savior.

Saturday, June 15, 1996

Never mind. I’m better now. I had a dream last night about my last
weekend in Colorado with my friends at a local amusement park called Elitch
Gardens. It brought to my remembrance a few forgotten things. I also received a
letter from Jeff Baker, a high school friend who often had more faith in me than I
did. All in all, I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. I guess this was the first of many
up-and-down cycles. It was a culmination of many things. The Lord, though, in
His ultimate goodness, has given me a chance to be happy. I can’t explain it (how
my dream helped), but I was much happier this morning.
More than anything, the dream reminded me of the love of my friends back
home and the fact that they believed in my abilities and often forgave me of my
shortcomings. The events recorded in this entry taught me a profound truth:
things often look better in the morning. During my mission, I learned to leave the
most pressing and hopeless problems for the morning, and in the light of a new
day, filled with hope, I found inspiration and answers. I am confident in my
abilities and in my future. I have faith and hope in God.
Things of import today—Hermano Curtis subbed for Hermano Thomas.
He told us horror stories from his mission in New York City. Hermana Brady said
“De nalgas” to a group of elders which means something entirely different than
the standard “De nada” which the situation called for.

Sunday, June 16, 1996

Good Sabbath day. I feel so excited again about missionary work.

Priesthood, district, and sacrament meetings were all focused on Christ. District
meeting focused on charity. Priesthood meeting focused on the Book of Mormon
insights into His life, and sacrament meeting on heroes and examples. Our
Sunday school was about Baptism, another great topic and talk. Evening fireside
was about families. And the final meeting was by far the best. It was about the
Book of Mormon and the power thereof. Use it! Read it! Share it! It was
designed by God for the conversion of the peoples of the Last Days. The Bible
was written only to members of the Church. The Book of Mormon was written to
convince people that Jesus is the Christ; it proves the Bible is true, and in so
doing, proves its own veracity. We need to use the proper tools for the proper job.
This was humbling because I have an arsenal of Bible scriptures to prove
the Book of Mormon. My preparation has been wrong. I should have been
learning how to listen to the sprit, how to share the spirit, and how to use the Book
of Mormon. I’ll not let Blake make the same mistake. It’s the spirit that matters
most in missionary work, and it’s the Book of Mormon which invites, sustains,
and retains the spirit. Use it, Read it, Share it, Love it!

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Monday, June 17, 1996

It’s time for some serious self-reflection. And so I turn to the source that
has always made my thoughts so clear: my journal. For the Holy Spirit works its
way into my writing. I return now to the subject of humility, and more
specifically, leadership aspirations. I have always aspired to leadership positions,
but very rarely have I served in them. Right now, I am serving under Elder
Watkins, my DL. He is a man of rich family background, yet is the most humble
guy I ever met. He’s struggling to learn Spanish, but he’s got the biggest heart of
anyone I’ve ever known. I love him and I love serving him. He’s a great leader.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I need to learn how to be happy with
being an ordinary soldier with superior mental attributes (not to be prideful, just
trying to consider the facts objectively). Here I am simply trying to lay the
situation on the line and be honest with myself. I had learned in the past year or
so that I had certain mental gifts, among them memory and intelligence. I
recognized that they are gifts, and as such come from God. I also recognized that
I was lacking in other important abilities.
I need to learn how to serve, being aware of my strengths, but placing
those strengths at the service of my leader. I think this is an important lesson I
must learn—how to accept authority. I sustain Elder Watkins with all my heart,
yet still long to lead. Maybe if I learn and appreciate lines of authority, I will
someday be a better leader. Maybe then, when I’ve truly learned humility, the
Lord will deem me worthy. Until I overcome my prideful nature, the pride that
puffs up my heart, I will never truly be a great leader.
I got mad at Felley today, ate lunch with Watkins and Tonks. Several days
previously, during an exercise in which we all took turns reading out loud, the
district decided that my reading voice had a decidedly professional sound to it.
They thought that the rhythm, the cadence, the enunciation and articulation
sounded like what you would hear on a book on tape. I vaguely recall that on this
day, Felley made reference to this ability of mine, and did so in a way that he
thought was funny, but offended me. The fact that I can’t even recall what the
comment was demonstrates that the whole affair was rather trivial and
unimportant. He later apologized for hurting my feelings, and I apologized for
being a weenie.

Tuesday, June 18, 1996

My lessons in humility were for a purpose. Tonight, I was called to serve

as Assistant to the Branch President. I’m excited about the calling and a little
scared. The most telling point is that the branch presidency had not made a
decision on who to call until tonight. As in, after last night’s important lesson.
After the district meeting, a member of the Branch presidency, Brother
Merrill, asked a few of us to bear our testimonies, and I was included in that
small group along with Elders Felley and Watkins. Sometimes I finish bearing a
testimony wishing I had said more or said it differently. Not so tonight. I felt

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good about what I said. The branch presidency had known since the fifth of June
that somebody from our group would have to fill the position that Elder Gillespie
would be vacating, but their choice was held in abeyance until this evening. I was
honestly shocked when the call was extended to me, and in a Forrest Gump-like
response, I replied simply “OK.” I realized that I should reply with greater
formality and quickly amended my response. My duties as Assistant to the
President included orienting new missionaries, planning sacrament meeting, and
assisting the district leaders in their responsibilities.
In addition, as I walked down my hall tonight, I heard a group singing
“God be with you till me meet again.” Think, Nathan. Last summer, what that
song said to you. Perhaps God has forgiven you and you are again on the right
track. On a visit to the Temple Square the summer after I graduated from high
school, I left the Tabernacle with this song playing on the organ. I felt certain
that someday I would be a leader in the Kingdom of God. This evening I thought
that perhaps the promise had been renewed, that I was to lead people in
righteousness someday. However, not only did I still struggle with leadership
aspirations, I still struggled with learning how to be a leader.

Extracts from a Letter to my Parents

“Well, it’s P-Day again. And again I’m doing my laundry. Only this time my
roommates and I are here in the laundry room at 4:45 am to beat the crowds. Last
week, we did it at 1:00 p.m. and it was impossible to find a dryer; this week we’re on
top of things.
“I said the opening prayer in sacrament meeting on Sunday. We have
branches at the MTC, not wards. Branches are quite a bit smaller. We have 48
missionaries in our branch, possibly fewer, I’m not sure.
“This upcoming week is going to be hectic. Not only are we going to have a
record number of missionaries here, but there is also a new mission president’s class
going on all week. It’ll be cool because all sorts of General Authorities will be
coming through here.
“I’m learning and growing a lot. I can bear testimony in Spanish, as well as
pray and sing in Spanish. Now, if only I could carry on a conversation. I’m doing
fine, you can put your mind at ease for another week.”

Wednesday, June 19, 1996

God is so awesome! This week, 138 new mission presidents are attending
classes at the MTC, including President Dennis Brown, from my home ward. I
was hoping to see him, to remind me of home. And I did. At the precise moment
I was thinking of it. Five years later, Sister Kathy Brown would be instrumental in
keeping me active in my home ward. I was going through a tough time in my life,
taking a semester off from school, and not feeling very connected to anyone or
anything in the ward. Sister Brown found me one Sunday, reading a church book
in the foyer during Sunday school, and asked me to substitute as a temporary
primary teacher (she was Primary President). I said yes, and three weeks later,

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in sacrament meeting, I was sustained to that position in a more or less

permanent capacity. Sister Brown was such a spiritually perceptive woman, and
that September she found a way for me to feel needed in my home ward.
Lessons in leadership: Today I made a comment to Tonks. Whereas
yesterday it would have been just another dumb joke, today it was unrighteous
dominion. The previous night, we had learned about how to word our prayers in
formal language. Tonks didn’t quite do it right today, and after the prayer, I
made a silly comment about it. Perhaps, some of the others thought that I was
correcting him in my capacity as AP, and thus overstepping the bounds of my
calling. I was just being myself, making a silly joke, and thus annoyed a few
members of my district. People watch leaders, and I don’t like it. I’ve never been
good under scrutiny. I feel like I need to set an example, yet my personality is
lacking. I tend to make stupid jokes at inappropriate times and know nothing of
righteous leadership. I’m not equal to the task, and I’m afraid I’ve already lost
district and companion support. Today we heard talks from Elders Joseph B.
Wirthlin, Dallin H. Oaks, Thomas S. Monson, and Boyd K. Packer.

Thursday, June 20, 1996

Not a lot happened today. I taught Hermana Lipiec (pronounced LIP-ic)

the fourth principle of the first discussion, relating to her the Joseph Smith Story.
We had not yet started teaching the discussions in Spanish, but that day I really
felt the spirit.
I’m having a few problems with my companion. I feel like he’s not
opening up, giving our companionship 100%. I feel like he’s very cold and
distant towards me. As mentioned earlier, Callister was a hard person to get to
know, a very private individual. He was the youngest in his family, and all of his
older brothers had served missions. His presence in the MTC was a matter of
course for him, while for me every new experience set me on fire and filled me
with the spirit. Perhaps it was this difference in our varied approaches that
brought me to this unfair assessment of his character.
I’m on fire with the spirit. I can’t wait to get into the field. Felley
received a pair of pants from Hermano Thomas. Of all our teachers, we were
closest to Hermano Thomas. He was a young man, recently married, and
expecting his first child. Hermano Thomas served his mission in Chile, and he
understood how the MTC could at the same time both thrill and numb the soul.
The endless monotony could really tear down a missionary’s enthusiasm. To
remedy this ailment, he often took us on unauthorized walks around the MTC
compound, walking backwards in front of us and quizzing us in order to justify the
time outside of the classroom. He knew that getting us out of the classroom, even
for a short time, would be enough to renew our vigor and our studies would be all
the more disciplined because of it. He understood us and understood that rules
sometimes had to be broken in order to bring about a grater good. We were his
last MTC district, and before we all left, he gave us each a neck tie, except for
Felley, who for some reason, received a pair of pants.

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Friday, June 21, 1996

I’m loving life again. I’m feeling confident again in my abilities.

Hermano Meik and I discussed my relationship with Callister and prayed about it.
Every Friday, we had a personal interview with one of our instructors. Hermano
Meik was the most spiritual of our three MTC teachers. He had served his
mission in Argentina, and as our instructor in the Commitment Pattern, taught us
much about listening to the spirit and helping others to feel the spirit. In our
interview today, he demonstrated how the Commitment Pattern could be used in
real life, helping me to find my own answers to the problems I was facing. He
helped me to bridge the gap with my companion.
At dinner, Callister and I talked more than we usually have done. Later, I
learned that he comes across as somewhat distant with some others in our district,
as well. I had an opportunity to ask him if I had done anything to upset him. He
replied in the negative. God does answer prayers.
In two days, I’ll be AP. I know that God will help me in this calling.

Saturday, June 22, 1996

I overcame homesickness today in remembering my “Crowning

Philosophy.” Before my mission, I often thought about the nature of Romantic
Love. My conclusions were what I called my Crowning Philosophy, and included
such things as the importance of a solid friendship and the need for a mutual
testimony of the gospel. That day, I had been reminiscing about past girlfriends
and wondering about my future, and in all making myself homesick. As I
remembered these earlier musings, I was reminded me of where I should be
placing my focus.
Elder Callister and I have been talking and laughing a lot. God is
awesome. He knows how to best heal my pains. I love Him and will serve Him
forever. I recommitted myself once again to the Work.

Sunday, June 23, 1996

Another great Sabbath. I was made AP today. Found out that Amanda
Cochran, whom I home taught at BYU, is coming into the MTC this week and
will be in my Branch. She received her mission call to Germany a week before I
received mine to Mexico, and shortly thereafter, we attended an endowment
session together at the Provo Temple. I’m looking forward to seeing her again.
I had a humbling experience tonight, concerning pre-judgment. In our PM
Gospel Study, one young elder seemed rather odd. He raised his hand and told a
story about hearing voices in the temple, and talking to the person for whom he
was going through the endowment session. Our entire district looked at each
other in bafflement, thinking that this guy was crazy. Elders Felley and Hasty
exerted an admirable effort to stifle their laughter. However, the closing hymn

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for that meeting was “Love One Another,” which humbled me. I should not judge
my fellow servants. In a similar meeting a month later, this same individual told
a story in which he revealed that he grew up in a polygamous colony and was
physically and sexually abused. Why he chose to share this in a large group
meeting, I do not know. What I do know is that I should not judge another, for
“in the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can’t see.”
Not a lot to say. I’m tired. Just preformed first official act as AP—I
checked the Captain out of his room. Captain Moroni was Hasty’s nickname for
one of the two enormously tall elders who occupied the other two bunks in his
room. Wilt the Stilt and the Captain were both going to English-speaking
missions, and so left us after only three weeks.

Monday, June 24, 1996

Today was a cool experience. During our evening class, we began

discussing the gathering of the Lost Tribes of Israel. I found myself, all of a
sudden, in the middle of a group consisting of Tonks, Watkins, Felley, and
Callister as I expounded on some of the things I’ve learned in my own studies. I
loved it! I loved helping other people. I loved leading others in their pursuit and
desire for knowledge. All of a sudden, I wanted to learn more. I want to know
the entire History of Israel and Judah. And so, after class, I started reading the
Bible Dictionary.
This morning I taught Discussion 1, Principle 1 to Tonks and Fister in
Spanish. I think I did okay. This was our first teaching experience in Spanish.
Afterwards, we went to a Large Group Meeting on the spirit. It was dang cool. I
loved it.

Tuesday, June 25, 1996

Noah leaves for the mission field in Guayaquil, Ecuador tomorrow. I

swung by his apartment tonight and said good-bye. I’m proud of that slug. He
was the only one of my high school buddies that no one thought would serve a
mission, not even himself. I’m going to miss him.
The mountains are on fire, and I can see the smoke and flames from my
apartment. Pretty cool.
Change of MTC presidency tonight. Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin was on
hand to reorganize the power structure. I had the opportunity to sustain the new
president. I’m on fire still. I know this work is true and I want to be the kind of
missionary that is obedient and stuff.
I have an AP meeting. Every Tuesday night there was a meeting of all the
AP’s in the building. I can’t remember who presided at these informal
gatherings, but it was a time to air out frustrations and resolve conflicts between
branches. I love it here.

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Extracts from a Letter to my Parents

“On Saturday, we started learning the discussions in Spanish. The words are
written right there on the page, but we have to come up with our own questions.
“¿Que cree que es Dios?” (How do you believe God is?) or “¿Que piensas de Dios?”
(What do you think about God?) Everybody is having a good time teaching and
learning the Spanish charlas (discussions).
“Tomorrow, I have twenty-three new missionaries coming into the branch. I
remember how dazed and confused I was on that first day and how thankful I was
for Elder Gillespie and his orientation meeting. I’m excited about returning the
favor by helping this new group fit into the MTC lifestyle.
“After three weeks now together, everyone has buckled down and begun to
study. We’re even more of a team now than ever before. Elder Watkins, our
fearless leader (he’s our district leader), is so rad. I wish I could be more like him.
He leads in such a quiet, humble, loving, dignified way. And we’ve got some
awesome individuals besides him, too. There’s Sister Lipiec from Ontario, Canada
who has a dying mother back home, whose best friend committed suicide on the
weekend before she entered the MTC, and so forth. She is so strong. I admire her
faith and perseverance.
“One of the other teachers, who teaches the class next to ours, is a returned
missionary from Tampico. Hermano Frandsen is his name. He comes in often and
we ask him tons of questions about the mission. It seems that it’s not too far behind
America, meaning they have McDonald’s and stuff. However, there are no hot
showers, he said. In one area, he even had to sleep on a dirt floor.”

Wednesday, June 26, 1996

I welcomed the new districts today. Since we had two in-coming districts,
President Gappmeyer suggested that I ask Elders Hasty and Castillo to aid me in
my tasks. Callister and Castillo took one district, and Hasty and I took the
Germans. Hasty, as the district clown, was much more relaxed in front of the
group than I was, which made me feel all the more inadequate. I had not, as yet,
developed my own personal leadership style, and I thought that I had to bring the
best of Hasty, Felley, Fister, and Watkins to bear in my own personality.
After the meeting, I reflected on my apparent shortcomings. I now have an
ugly fact staring me in the face. I am not the Great Leader I’ve always wanted to
be. I am neither strong enough nor courageous enough to lead people. Maybe
God only gave me this position as AP to show me my weaknesses and teach me a
lesson about aspiring to leadership. Even though I’m serving in a capacity that is
beyond my abilities, I am going to give it everything I’ve got. I’m going to try my
hardest. I owe it to the branch, to the church, and to my Savior to serve with
100% of my heart. I will not let my Lord down. I will do my best.

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Thursday, June 27, 1996

Another day, another doubt. Can I really be a leader of men? Am I strong

enough to be an example? Am I courageous enough to set the standard? Only
time and the Lord can tell.
Today I went onto BYU campus to go to the Health Center for Callister’s
ankle. He had twisted it during a basketball game during gym on P-Day and had
been hobbling around for the last two days. We finally convinced him to get some
medical attention. It was nice to drive through my old haunting grounds. I miss
Suzie and Weston. She was one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He helped me
through a tough period in my life. He was my freshman year roommate. She was
his girlfriend. They were my closest friends during that first lonely year away
from home. I hope everything works out between them. In the final analysis,
Suzie "Dear-Johned" Weston, not just the customary one time, but after repenting
of that mistake, she "Dear-Johned" him an unprecedented second time.
I enjoyed the day; I think I’ve earned the trust and respect of the new
districts. If this were true, what was I whining about at the beginning of the
entry? I think that I had once again overstepped my authority and done
something that I should have delegated to Watkins. My district may have been
mad at me.

Friday, June 28, 1996

Another day, another doubt. I don’t mean to be negative. I’m having a

great time. I’m learning much and loving the complete focus I have on the gospel.
It’s just that I’m not sure how to be a leader. I want to set an example: study hard,
etc. I had this image of what a righteous leader should do and say, and I was not
measuring up to that internal standard I had set for myself. I had not yet realized
that righteous leadership is as varied as the individuals who serve, and there are
many different ways that I could have made my mark.
My hang-up today was the following. By my very nature I love to laugh
and have fun, sometimes at inappropriate times. “I frequently fell into many
foolish errors, and displayed the foibles of youth and human nature. . . I was guilty
of levity."”(JS History 1:28). Joseph Smith has always been my hero. I want to
be more like him; I want to lead like him, to know God and serve God as he did.

Saturday, June 29, 1996

Fighting monotony. It’s been encroaching for the last three days. I’m
down on myself for not giving 100% of my best effort. Again, I felt that laughing
and goofing off was not part of the righteous missionary’s day. Because of that,
I’ve just not been extremely happy the last couple of days.
I met Pedro today. He’s from Mexico and he bore us his testimony in
Spanish. We met him at lunch after Hermano Thomas’s class. He was at the

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MTC to serve as an investigator to a group practicing the charlas. He bore us his

testimony and it moved all of us. I cried. Lipiec cried. Everyone cried.
I also bore my testimony in Spanish to a new district down the hall from
my own. I was on fire. I was excited. And then the monotony returned.
Monotony is a constant risk in the Mission Training Center. Oddly, the
experience is both new and exciting and boring and old, all at the same time. Our
district began combating the debilitating effects of monotony by dreaming about
Wattie’s cabin.
We had discovered that Elder Watkins, our DL, came from a fairly rich
and affluent family, though none of us would have guessed it from his humble and
unassuming personality. His family owned a cabin outside of West Yellowstone,
Montana, and so we began to make plans for a District 60-B reunion after the
mission was over. Talking and daydreaming about visiting the cabin, water-
skiing on the lake, and hiking through the woods, became an activity that we
would resort to during the times when the interminable nature of our studies hung
depressingly over us. The dream took on a life of its own, becoming a symbol of
what would be ours if we would only serve faithfully and complete our missions
with honor.

Sunday, June 30, 1996

Well, I woke up this morning realizing I haven’t been praying as much as I

should be. The opening song at sacrament meeting was “Did You Think To
Pray?” The opening song at the fireside was “I Need Thee Every Hour.” The talk
at the fireside was about prayer. Holy guilt trip, Batman.
Earlier that evening, I faced my first serious challenge as Assistant to the
President. I had a talk with AP59, who had a problem with my District E.
Apparently the district under discussion was making a lot of noise at night,
celebrating their imminent release from the MTC into the field. AP59 asked me to
do something about the level of rowdiness in my branch. While we were talking,
Elder McCormac, the DL of district E, inserted himself into the conversation and
began arguing with AP59. I stood idly by, confused, not knowing what was
expected of me. I finally came down on the side of AP59, and Elder McCormac
stormed off.
We continued our discussion when we were yet again interrupted by
members of the district. District E took it personally, and it nearly came to blows.
One elder had to be physically restrained. I prayed to Heavenly Father that he
would make me equal to the task. This all happened immediately before our
evening gospel study, and I suffered through that whole meeting, wondering what
I was going to do, how I was going to mend my relationship with District E.
During that time, the spirit whispered to me a scripture about righteous
leadership, which admonishes leaders to show forth an increase of love after a
sharp rebuke. I talked to McCormac, the DL. Everything is good. I talked with
the entire district in a spirit of love, expressing to them that I was on their side,
but that I didn’t want them to get into trouble or break the rules.

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This was my first leadership challenge in the mission field. I was never
really comfortable talking to people, and especially not when they were angry
with me. This was the first time that, as a leader, I had to lay down the law and
call someone to repentance. This was also the first time that I realized that I had
a leadership style of my own, as I went about fixing the situation, not with harsh
words or blown-up polemics, but with a spirit of love and reconciliation. I did not
have to be bold and daring as a leader, I just had to love those I served.
The district leaders for the new districts were called tonight. Watkins and
I trained them. One of the new District Leaders was an Elder Nathan Smith,
called to serve the German district. He had been the best friend of one of my
college roommates, and, perhaps because of this fact, he and I quickly became
close friends during our time together in the MTC. I spent long hours in his room
talking to him and learning from him. I like being a leader, sort of. I still think
I’m only an average one.

Monday, July 1, 1996

Happy Canada Day, eh! Yesterday I caught my second wind and today has
been great. I’ve refocused on the work, placing upon the altar of sacrifice
everything I have or have had. I press forward enjoying my time at the MTC, yet
looking forward to getting into the field.
Today I taught the first charla in Spanish to another elder. This mysterious
other elder was a member of another Spanish-speaking district who was perhaps
two weeks behind us. There were many opportunities like this to practice on
other elders, though most practices remained within our own district. Towards
the end of our seemingly interminable training, we practiced more and more with
other districts. I think Callister and I did fairly well.
I am looking forward to P-Day tomorrow and catching up on my sleep.
It’s amazing how tired you become sitting down twelve hours a day. Oh well.

Tuesday, July 2, 1996

Another great day. I still have a lot to do tonight: a hall council, brief talks
with my district leaders, and scriptures.
I wonder if the elders in my District are treating the hermanas with the
proper respect that I’ve always believed women should be treated. I don’t know if
I should say anything, maybe just set the example. This is a perfect example of
why I failed so often as a leader in the MTC. I often went along with the group
until my conscience pricked me. However, by then it was too late. I could never
ask those I led to change and repent when I myself had participated in the
transgression. It didn’t matter that I felt remorse and desired a change in myself
as well. To those I was called to lead, I was often just another one of the
participants. In this case, the lack of respect that I agonized over was just simply
treating the sister missionaries like one of the guys—joking with them, often
passing gas in the middle of class, and so forth. This also explains why I had

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much better luck leading the other districts in the branch—they never saw my
everyday imperfections.

Wednesday, July 3, 1996

I torqued off Sister Brady tonight. I wasn’t taking my Spanish lessons too
seriously, and was making dumb jokes instead of applying myself. She would cast
a sharp look in my direction and I would feel sheepish and ashamed. However, in
trying to make it better, I only made it worse. I would apologize, and then I would
just go back to doing the same thing. She finally snapped at me and said that if I
were truly apologetic I would quit with the dumb jokes. Then the fire alarm went
off and we were excused early. Good thing, too. Another five minutes in that
room and she would have killed me.
I welcomed a new district today. They are English speaking, going to
Texas. Now, of the four districts in the branch, ours is the most senior. This only
adds to the weight of authority and responsibility that is already burdening my
shoulders. How could I ever have aspired to this and more?

Thursday, July 4, 1996

We got to stay up to 11:00 p.m. to watch the fireworks display from

Cougar Stadium. We had the best seats in the MTC—the top floor of the tallest
building. From our vantage point, Callister, Stauffer, Taylor and I could almost
look down into the stadium. Behind the stadium was a fascinating electrical
storm, and thus we saw fireworks shooting up from the stadium and lightning
flashing across the sky in between launches. We sat in a darkened classroom and
enjoyed our extra half hour of leniency. It was dang cool.
Not much else happened today. I’m having more doubts about myself as a
missionary. I’m just too scared of people. I’m not good at social situations. We
all have strength and we all have weaknesses. As indicated earlier, I felt that my
strength was intelligence; I had a sound understanding of the scriptures and of
the gospel. However, my weaknesses seemed glaring at times—my social skills
were underdeveloped. People made me uncomfortable, and the idea that I might
have to tell a complete stranger to repent and change his mode of living
frightened me. Without this key skill, how could I ever succeed in the mission
field? I think I’m going to live out the remainder of my days as an old hermit and
bachelor. Just me and Zach and the Couch.
I saw Brent today. Made me both happy and sad. I almost wish I were
home. What am I doing here?

Friday, July 5, 1996

I can’t believe that I’m already halfway done with my experience here at
the Empty Sea. In just over a month, I’ll be in Mexico. Ay caraches!

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I figured something out today. There is a reason why I struggle with pride
one minute, and low self-esteem the next. It’s a question that has followed me for
some time. I talked about it briefly in one of my other journals. It’s not “Who am
I?”, but it’s closely related. Where do I belong? What role do I play in the
Kingdom of God and in the world in general? What meaning will my life have?
Callister and I were walking in the front of the MTC today and saw one of
our new elders, sitting on the grass, his bags packed. He was being sent home! It
really dampened my day. Especially since he was one of the three elders that I
was going to recommend as district leader.
Deep philosophical musings today at dinner, about the meaning and value
of life, and the price and cost of following Christ.

Saturday, July 6, 1996

I’m having problems feeling confident in my social skills. How can I be a

missionary if I can’t talk to people? I can find my place someday, but how do I
overcome these manifestations of low self-esteem? Other than this, I’m having a
great time. I’m learning a lot and feeling confident as a minister of Christ. If I
can only overcome this low self-esteem.
At some point during these weeks, a screw came loose in my glasses, and
they fell apart on me in the middle of class. I sent them back home, remembering
that the store that sold them to me had a one-year guarantee. My parents fixed
them up and sent them back. For a whole week in the Missionary Training Center
I walked around in a blurry haze.

Sunday, July 7, 1996

Wow! Another great Sabbath. I taught the new district in the morning; I
feel like I did a good job. Usually, the DL is in charge of teaching (or delegating)
the lesson for the morning district meeting. However, in a new district without a
DL, the AP would teach the first lesson. Thus, I rarely had the opportunity to
attend my own district meetings.
Every week, all the district leaders met with the branch presidency, to
discuss the needs of the branch. Sister Lipiec also met with us; she served as
Head Sister for the branch. It was a calling that no one else in our district knew
she had. She was a very caring individual and tried so hard to be a friend to all
the sisters in the branch. In that morning’s meeting, we discussed a sister, whose
name I know not, who is having severe emotional problems. Sister Lipiec has
been handling the situation at the expense of her sleep, but today we discussed
professional help. I pray for her, that she might overcome.
During the mission conference, which was held on the first Sunday of
every month, we heard of the “Jesus Seminar,” a group of left-wing minister that
has declared that the Resurrection is a myth and that Jesus was not the literal Son
of God. The Book of Mormon says otherwise. I foresaw a time when the

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knowledge of Christ shall wane, and “Mormons” shall be the only ones to declare
that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God.
In his capacity as our spiritual leader, President Gappmeyer had the
responsibility of conducting three interviews with each member of our district—
an entrance interview, a mid-term interview, and an exit interview. That Sunday,
our district had our mid-term interview with the branch president. President
Gappmeyer told me I was doing a fine job as a leader. He says that other elders
he’s talked with have a lot of respect for me. That’s all good, I suppose.
Tonight we had a great fireside about being who you want to be, and then
another one about drawing closer to the Savior. I haven’t been as close to Him as
I should be. I need to rely on Him like I never have before. The focus of the work
is not my own abilities, but on the love of the Savior and His Atonement.

Monday, July 8, 1996

This was the day of my most extreme emotional burn-out. We were

practicing with each other, doing an exercise in which we extended the invitation
to pay tithing. My companion, playing the investigator, brought up some very
good doubts, and realizing that I would have to give satisfactory answers to real
people suffering real economic hardships and struggling with real issues, I froze.
I stared vacantly into space, wondering what the heck I was doing as a
missionary if I lacked the ability to read a person’s emotions, and from that to
know what to say.
Hermano Meik, seeing the bleak gaze of despair on my face, pulled me
from class, and found an empty room. In tears, I told him there was no way I
could be a missionary, since I had no idea how to deal with people, nor the
courage to say something that, while righteous and timely, could still be very
offensive and hurtful. I had a long talk with Hermano Meik. I had hit a wall that I
felt was insurmountable. My confidence in talking to people had completely
disappeared and I was uncertain if I would be able to fulfill my obligations as a
messenger of the Lord.
I love Hermano Meik. We talked it out. I’m ready to go on, with full
reliance in the Lord. I just wish I knew who I wanted to be. I have no tact,
basically no social skills whatsoever. Anyways, I’m this dichotomy of confidence
and inconfidence. I know the gospel; I can’t work with people.

Tuesday, July 9, 1996

Our district was assigned to clean the gym, and felt lucky that we had
drawn such a choice assignment. Other districts vacuumed dorms and scrubbed
toilets; ours swept the indoor track and cleaned off the basketball courts. Of all
the chores we had to choose from, I enjoyed the solitary ones the most. I loved
sweeping outside, because I enjoyed being alone in the early morning air.
It was on such a morning that I had this amazing epiphany. Today, I was
sweeping outside the gym, singing “Last Farewell,” a song by Jeff Goodrich that

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speaks of the martyrdom of the Prophet. Of a sudden, the spirit filled me and I
remembered all I had learned about the life of Brother Joseph. I then cried, for I
knew that he was a prophet. I cried because I finally understood the immense
power of the Spirit of God. I could rely upon this spirit to testify to my
investigators with the same power that it testified to me that morning. I could rely
upon this spirit to carry my insufficient words to the hearts of my listeners with
conviction.
I placed some names on the prayer roll, among them the nameless sister
whom we had discussed in correlation meeting. Later, our district went through
a hearing impaired endowment session. They had an extra television set next to
the large screen, and on the TV was a video with a lady translating the
endowment into American Sign Language. I took part in the prayer circle. I had a
great endowment, and once again felt the spirit’s purifying influence.
Then, later tonight, Carlos E. Asay spoke about the Prophet. It was
wonderful. I know that he was a prophet. The talk focused on eight tests of a true
prophet. This was another of those rare moments when I took notes, and I
actually carried those notes with me for the rest of my mission.
Last night, the whole district gathered in our dorm room, laughing,
talking, having a good time. In the middle of it all, I slipped out and went next
door to the other dorm, now empty. There I knelt down beside Elder Tonks’ bed,
and poured out my heart in prayer. I cried to the Lord. I said, “This is what I’ve
done wrong in my life. If you still want me to serve, let me know.” Wham! The
spirit filled me. I said, if I were to serve, I needed Him to make me equal to the
task, to help me to overcome my fear of people. If I’m going to succeed as a
missionary, I need Him. I know He’ll help. I felt an outpouring of love from on
high; I received my answer, returned to the district, and determined that I would
face the future with hope and optimism.

Extracts from a Letter to my Parents

“My Spanish is coming along great, better than it ever was in high school. I
think part of it is that we have incentive to learn; we’ll be using it in a month. Most
important, however, is the spirit. You just really can’t beat God as a tutor.
Sometime I can speak well, sometimes I can’t. The difference is that sometimes I
have the spirit, and sometimes I don’t.”

Wednesday, July 10, 1996

You know what? If I try to please everyone, I end up pleasing no one,

myself included. If I try to be everything, I only end up making myself depressed.
The only One who matters is Christ. Worries about friends and family fade in the
face of His Atonement. He is the only One I need to please. And if I play to my
strengths, and admit my weaknesses, He will make me an instrument in His
hands. This last thought was something that the spirit had whispered to me
Monday night, as I knelt in prayer next to Elder Tonks’ bunk. The Spirit told me
that I should use my talents unabashedly, yet be fully aware of my limitations, and

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then the Lord would bless me. “If the Lord should command me, I could do all
things.”
Today, Felley pushed me over a chair. Very funny. This occurred during
a rather boisterous class exercise. Felley bumped into me, and overreacting, I
toppled over my desk. He felt bad, which was precisely why I did it. I was very
upbeat this afternoon. Part of it may have been because we finally got our travel
plans.

Extracts from a Letter to my Parents

“Just a quick note to let you know that I have my travel plans. They go as
follows:
“I leave the MTC at 3:30 in the morning on August 5. I leave Salt Lake on
United flight 776 at 7:10. I arrive in San Francisco an hour and forty-eight minutes
later, 7:58 local time, 8:58 your time. We have a three-and-a-half-hour layover in San
Fran.
“We leave San Fran at 11:30 on United flight 1011. We arrive in Mexico City
four hors and thirteen minutes later, 5:43 local time, 4:43 your time. I have a three-
hour layover in Mexico City. I leave Mexico City at 8:35 on Mexicana flight 748. I
arrive in Tampico fifty-five minutes later, 9:30 local time, 8:30 your time.
“Just thought you’d like to know.”

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District 60-B
Front row: Elders Callister, Stauffer, Tonks, Sisters Lipiec and Bachman.
Middle row: Elders Taylor, and Hasty.
Back row: Elders Fister, Felley, Castillo, Watkins, and Barrett.

Elder Barrett
Studying the gospel

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Hermanas Lipiec and Bachman

with Elder Callister studying in the Mission Training Center

Yet another study period

Elders Tonks, Watkins, and Stauffer

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