"The Keepers" on red ground

Dear Family and Friends,

I officially now live a "Devil Wears Prada" life.

Let's back up and explain this. On Monday when I wrote last I was living life as normal out in the farm lands eating my sticky rice and pork on a stick.

Oh, well, that has certainly since changed.

There was a mini moves transfer and naturally and unexpectedly, according to "the unorthodox workings of the spirit", Sister Jackson and I moved together to an area that what was once known as "the beast".

I now live in Asoke, Bangkok.

If you want to map that, it's called "Din Daeng". Din Daeng literally means, "Red Ground." My days are now filled with zooming taxi's, light-rails, foreigners, and thousands and thousands of people swarming the streets. Not only this, I live a block from my mission office. So every day as I pass our beautiful lot I think to myself, "I sweep these streets because President Hinckley promised us a temple on that piece of grass."

And then we fly. We teleport from here to there to picking up this and that, all the while looking people in the eyes on the streets to find who we're missing. Over a course of a couple of hours, you probably talk to over 1000 people. In that sift, you find those who are ready.

So as we finished out inviting one day on the streets, we were coming back to get some food- oddly enough harder to find than anything else in Bangkok. But just as I crossed the street, right outside that plot of land that will one be the temple, was a sharp looking young man with his headphones in. I glance at him, then Sis Jackson moving towards what would finally be a meal on the side of the road, and before I know what has happened I have stepped right in front of him and I am showing him a baptismal card.

He pulls out his headphones instantaneously and I look him in the eyes. He is, of course, the last person I would talk to, as so many missionary stories go. And I am grateful that I followed the prompting almost unknowingly.

His name is Bawm. He is a nurse at a prestigious hospital here in Bangkok. He has no Word of Wisdom problems whatsoever, and his sister lives in Salt Lake City.

And his light shined on that Bangkok street brighter than any billboard that day.

I think we never really know what is in store for us on this ride of life. I can certainly say that at the beginning of my mission, at the very start, I could have never looked ahead and seen what I have or prophesied anything I have experienced. As a new missionary you are excited, nervous, not sure what to expect, lots of questions on the mind, optimistic, and ready to go.

This week I gave my bike away. I gave it to a Thai Returned Missionary named Elder Wilamas (or now, Brother Ice.) He is the Branch Mission Leader in Ubon. The night we came down to Bangkok, we looked over all our bags, bikes and things. We quickly realized two sister missionaries arriving in Bangkok in the middle of the night with all this stuff was not going to happen smoothly.

So Brother Ice, one of my dearest friends on my mission, bought a ticket and hopped aboard. My 33rd and last all-night bus ride, was accompanied by someone who has given everything for the gospel. He came in whatever he was wearing and dropped all of his plans with friends and for starting a job. He saw a need and he came to the rescue.

I love the thai people. I love this country with all my heart. I have seen people change their lives and give everything to be true disciples of Christ.

This week I so tenderly saw that in the bright eyes of the five new Thai missionaries from all over Thailand that just got back from the Phillipines MTC. It is hard to describe the feeling you get around brand new missionaries. I have never seen so much faith, so many eager questions, as I did with these sweet Thai members of the church that had newly put-on nametags. One of those new elders was someone my MTC companion had baptized, here one year later as a missionary.

As I was around them I felt a sincere and real difference between when I had once taught with them as ordinary members of the church here, and when I picked them up from the office to take them home with us as new missionaries. Their anticipation and enthusiasm and questions were over-flowing and the spirit that surrounded them was undeniable.

And so, with the enthusiasm and optimism of a brand new missionary, I embark my last three weeks in this land that I love. We're hitting the ground running. Here in Din Daeng the dirt may be "red", but it can be white as snow with the gift of the gospel.

"The field is white already to harvest."

The field has been white where ever I have been. Of that, I have never doubted.

But here in Asoke there is more than just harvesting to do. There are a lot of recent converts here. More than anywhere in the country.

The beloved prophet who dedicated this land and that plot for the temple was the same man who said that if we baptize and do not hold on to the fruits of our labor, then our labor is pointless.

So we have become "keepers". Keepers of light. Keepers of souls. And rescuers and as well finders.

1. Brightly beams our Father's mercy
   From his lighthouse evermore,
   But to us he gives the keeping
   Of the lights along the shore.
2. "You may rescue, you may save."
3. Love,
4. Sister Painter
   
   
   
   
    

Rise and Shine

Dear Family and Friends,

Well, I asked President Senior was I should write about this week, and he suggested that I write and say that I was, "resigned to my hungarian-child crib with illness." .... Thank you President. Inspiring.

But it's true, I was.

I got way sick, and that got really depressing after a while of seeing little change.

But then I decided to get up.

I decided that I was done feeling sorry for myself. My days were up to me, and I didn't have to be 'resigned' to anything, especially feeling sad.

I want to talk today to anyone who feels that they are doomed to what "destiny" has in line for them. Because of the gospel of Jesus Christ, anybody, regardless of circumstance, can be changed, lifted, and set running again.

My friends, we all fall down.

We all get scrapes. Heck, some of us break spiritual arms, so to speak.

But the beauty of the gospel is that broken things can be mended. "Broken minds can be mended as easy as broken bones." -Elder Holland. If you remember back to the Bible story of Christ healing the man with palsy, you'll note that He did it to show that he could heal physically as well as spiritually. For, as He said, "Which is easier?"

Now let me ask you a question. Which is easier, a quick mend or a transformation? A band-aid on a cut, or a shape-shift to a new creature?

But even better than this, even better than a mend, is a transform.

Better than broken pots glued together is a collection of the pieces thrown in a furnace, reheated as clay, and reformed as a new being.

The atonement both has the power and ability to both heal us, and enable us.

Anyone who has ever used it knows what that power entails. It's not just for sinners, it's for anyone who wants to know the truth.

My friends, the atonement has the power to convert you.

When you feel sad, that is never the moment to give up on your righteous desires. That is never the moment to stop going to church, or seminary, or institute. When you are sick, you go see a doctor.

Our spiritual doctor is the Lord Jesus Christ, and his atonement is the medicine and remedy for any infirmity.

This last week I got to see the peak of what would become one of my most precious mission stories. The last couple of months, I watched a brother who was convinced he was going to go inactive on his return home from his trip. He came to Thailand on a vacation with his mom and sister "kicking and screaming".

He slowly opened up to some activities with the branch, and then began helping the missionaries teach. He started finding his own investigators with them on the street. Before we knew it, he had a planner, a bike, and was riding with the Elders everywhere. Yesterday he baptized a man he taught.

I saw the change in this young 17-year old. And better yet, he saw the change in himself. He began to call the mother he once fought with, "แม่ที่รัก" (or my beloved mom) in her native language, which brought her to tears of joy.

Watching the atonement heal investigators was the faith-instilled medicine for him. 'If it could happen for them, why not me?'

I know that the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the true and living church of the Savior.

He is our Savior because His atonement is real. You could say, "I believe it because I've seen it." Not with my eyes, but with a discerning heart. I've seen it happen to others. I saw it with this sweet brother. And even more than that, I've seen it happen to me.

It can happen for you.

So all who feel bedridden, whether spiritually or otherwise;

...rise and shine.

Love,

Sister Painter

Finding the 4000

Dear Family, Friends, and... well, whoever you are!

 

...

We really need to talk. I have a story to tell.

So we remember the story of Jesus Christ "feeding the 5000", right? Today I'm going to tell the story of the beginning of a journey.

 

I'll call this embarkment, "Finding the 4000".

 

I took my 31st overnight bus ride into the street lights and traffic sign local of Asoke, Bangkok. What that means is that I have spent over one month of my mission sleeping on a bus from 10pm to 6am.

....Moving on.

So we arrived at our Mission Leadership Council meeting and by the end President had laid out a vision. We have baptized so many, and last year about 2500 people would come each Sunday across Thailand. After the take-off and the hastening, 3500 people.

"By the end of this very month," he concluded, "the Lord God wants 4000 people attending church each week across Thailand. He can do it, but that's not all. That is very different than the statement, He will do it. .. And he will."

 

We arrived home filled with faith and desire to help our zone catch the vision placed in our hearts. 500 more people in 4 weeks? Where on earth are we going to find 500 more people? That would mean that we need to baptize the same or more AND rescue those who have fallen at the side of the road.

The following Saturday would become a last opposition experience for me, where nobody I called gave me a definite yes on church. By the looks of things on Saturday evening, the odds weren't in our favor.

 

But we didn't ask for luck. We prayed in faith.

 

If there is one lesson that I have learned in its absolutely clarity on my mission, it is that faith precedes the miracle.

 

So on the evening of July 5th, that Saturday night, we set up the chairs in the chapel with the Elders.

Before we knew it, we had filled the room with 150 chairs.

 

Members came in and out watching us and helping, saying, "Why do you keep putting out more?" knowing that last week there was a total on 89 people in that room.

 

But the 150 chairs remained. Who would fill them? No idea. But we knew that room would be filled.

 

Beginning of the month, July 6th-- Fast and Testimony Sunday morning. The air crisp, the breeze slightly cool. The doors of the church stayed open as if welcoming arms.

And oh, did it welcome.

I am a witness that "faith precedes the miracle."

Families I had not seen my entire service spent in Ubon appeared as if from the dust came back like they'd be coming the last ten years. Faces I'd seen in my area book were standing right in front of me. I knew their names! Where had they been?

 

From my translation table in the back with my microphone and headsets, I looked out across what would appear to be an ocean of people. I saw the room full. Members, old and new, investigators, children, a newborn blessed baby, 2-baptismal candidates, a girl waiting for the Holy Ghost confirmation, families since lost, families newly baptized, families just barely found....

 

...and two orange-robed Buddhist monks.

 

That's right. You heard me.

 

A Phillipino man arrived early, saying: "Two months ago I met two sister missionaries at a market, they invited me." .... Two months ago. The miraculous thing? I saw as I walked passed something that caught my eye... his hymn book! What the...? He's not an investigator! He's a member! Since he was 14! He had lived in Thailand for 3 years and had no idea there was a church here.

 

Oddly enough, he had received a prompting this week that it was his time to go back to church, and he promised himself he would.

I testify that God plays 4-dimensional chess.

The ocean of 148 souls I looked over differed in every stage of their lives, whether young in age or young in faith, or neither. I mean, there is the oldest woman I've ever seen here who has out-lived us all on both aspects.

But amongst all these I felt stood angels on our left and on our right.

A higher power had brought these people here, not us. It was the faith.

 

We simply set out the chairs.

Love,

Sister Painter

 

 

 

 

 

(my companion Sis. Jackson)

Sprint Point

Dear Family and Friends,

Announcement #1: Reese's Peanut Butter Cups have hit the shelves of 7-11 for the first time across Ubon.

Announcement #2: I ran out of my missionary fund a few days early because of Announcement #1.

Anyway, this week it has been brought to my attention (with a fairly loud voice) I want to talk about something I call the จุดวิ่ง -- "The Point Where you Start Running" or in more eloquent terms:

 My "Sprint Point."

Before every race comes training. That training isn't a cake walk. In fact, it's a coaching of yourself into being able to keep up with the pack until you can run as fast as the others.

But this is no ordinary race amongst other runners. This is a race against yourself. 

I've got six weeks left towards a finish line that creeps ever closer- and on this last thursday, the last transfer meeting, the signal came, a flag lowered, and a gun shot went off- it's time to sprint.

A sprint point towards a third stake.

Ubon has been stacked with two additional elders, Sis Jackson was called as my Sister Training Leader companion, and our other districts were given some of the most prime missionaries to build and strengthen. When President came last week, he sat down to dinner with us and asked about opening another area to feed into Ubon. He did just that.

On my mission, I have seen so much.

I have witnessed miracles. I have seen, heard and been a part of more than the keyboard is capable of typing out.

But like Elder Packer, from his last conference talk called, "The Witness". He said: "Far from thinking I was someone special, I thought that if such a thing came to me, that it could come to anyone. I still believe that."

I honestly and full-heartedly believe that before any righteous endevour, there will always without fail be some sort of opposition to try to "last minute" end that great thing before it starts. That's one of the most profound lessons we learn from Joseph Smith's experience, and one I've seen with almost every investigator on a Saturday night before that Sunday they'd be baptized.

So, we baptized a girl named Ame yesterday. I found her within the hour she was at a hospital donating blood. The invitiation was smooth, accepted, and by the end, I hugged her I felt like she was that close to me. I loved her instantly. 10 days later after our first meeting, she was baptized. On Saturday evening, she felt some last minute questions. Last minute uncertainty. She prayed for last minute comfort. "Is this all true?"

Yesterday after watching the Joseph Smith movie with her after her baptism, she came out and said, "I prayed, and... I got it. I got my answer. You might not believe this, and I might not either, but it happened. In one year, I probably have a dream 2 or 3 times and that's it. But after praying and falling asleep-- or at least in the period between sleeping and wakefulness, I had a dream. It was white, it was beautiful, it told it I was doing the right thing. I felt in my heart I knew it was true. ... And that's what happened to me last night."

I honestly believe her. Each of us are no more special than someone else. We're all entitled to receiving "a witness".

And so I testify again, that any missionary, investigator, new convert, or old-time member, regardless of where you may be, can receive the same. "I still believe that."

I sprint towards a temple. Six weeks towards a stake. Three stakes towards a temple.

"So run, that ye may obtain." -1 Corinthians

Thank you to all the people across the world that have sent me mail to help me run. I cannot express my gratitude enough. The letters that begin, "You don't know me, but...." are some of my most prized.

Thank you. Because of you, I run faster even still.

Love,

Sister Painter
   My birthday box container.

 

  I love transfer reunions. Me, Sister Embley, Sis. Packard

The Twenty and Second Year

Dear Family and Friends,

 

I turned 22 years old this week. That was a little unreal.

Especially when they brought out the "23 yrs old" cake and my eye twitched and luckily it was a mistake and NOT real life.

So I'm going to take you back in time just a tiny bit with my journal. Back when I wrote this:

 

"I'm 21 years old- this is my only year to be a missionary. I don't want to waste a single moment. This is the time! And I can make it just as this of Moroni: "Behold, there never was a happier time among the people, since the days of Nephi, than in the days of Moroni, yea, even at this time, in the twenty and first year." I was promised success before I came, so I look forward to what my 21st year entails!"

And then a month ago:

"I remember writing about how my 21st year of life would be the most memorable- turns out that was an absolute understatement. I saw more, did more, and believed more than I ever have."

This week I saw what it looks like to be transformed by the gospel through Brother Game. He quit smoking, drinking, wearing idol necklaces, long hair in a ponytail, the works, to be a member of this church. I saw him yesterday in his clean shirt and neatly done conservative hair and thought to myself, "I didn't tell him to do that."

 

It reminds me of the book "Our Search for Happiness" by Elder Ballard. He said that he met a man that had a life that needed to be cleaned up in every way. Each day they visited, he noticed something had changed. A clean apartment, cut his hair, stopped drinking... why? "Just thought it was the right thing to do."

 

This week my "younger brother never given to me in a normal American family situation" got baptized. AKA my Cornelius.

 

I have no pretty words to be able to describe what I saw, but it was indeed the best birthday present I have ever received to see someone I love so dearly get baptized. I'm sure all of you know who Joe is from Roi-et if you've ever read my emails before. Dome was my second promised brother.

 

And yesterday I saw him go into the waters of baptism, come out, and later find out he said to Elder Astle as they came back into the sacrament room after changing, "Why do I feel so different? I want to wear white every day."

 

He got up to bear his testimony and said, "I came to this point through my own willingness and my own faith in God. I know this is a good change for me, and will lead me to happiness. I am so happy I was baptized on this day."

 

And you know what? I can echo him.

 

"Behold, there never was a happier time among the people, since the days of [the twenty and first year], than in the days of [Sister Painter], yea, even at this time, in the twenty and second year."

 

It was, a happy birthday indeed.

 

Love,

Sister Painter

I FOUND CORNELIUS!

Dear Family, Friends.... Facebook onlookers I've never met? Sure.   This week will go down in the history of my books as the rollercoaster of highest highs and lowest lows. As President says, "The funnest part of a rollercoaster is going down!" .... Not in particularly true for this comparison of successes and defeats, but in the Lord's work, I have yet to truly lose     I witnessed Thailand get it's 2nd stake ever in history. My last area was just created into a stake. The Donmueang branch is now the Donmueang Ward in the Bangkok North Stake. . I want to talk today about the cost versus return of being a missionary. When I say cost, I'm not talking about dollars or even about time. I'm talking about giving of yourself. A mission is a personal investment. It's not a game of cost vs. benefits but rather a journey of personal sacrifice vs. ultimate reward-- not only for you, but for all those who benefited from your sacrifice.               So I'm going to start off by telling a story. You know I love stories. For this particular story, I'll have to go back in time to when I spent 9 weeks in Bangkok. (Mind you, this is called the Thailand Bangkok mission, and as you may recall, I've only ever entered a Bangkok area that one time for 9 weeks.) While I served in Donmueang, the presiding bishop of the church Bishop Stevenson arrived and gave us a sermon that left my heart totally expectant that the blessings of my mission that I was promised would absolutely come to pass. In past letters, as you may recall, I wrote about "Finding my Cornelius." What that means, for all of you just tuning in, is this, and I quote myself: "I say that, because Peter was called out to go find a certain man who beckoned to him from a land far away, and this man was a Greek. His name was Cornelius, a centurion at Caesarea. The baptism of Cornelius marked the way for the gospel to be preached to the Gentiles. Peter had a dream, and was immediately there-after called upon by this man Cornelius. He straight-way went out to find him, and Cornelius was baptized that very day. My whole mission, I have had several of these shining finds. But during my time in Bangkok, I was burning inside, feeling I was not yet done. Somewhere afar, I felt a call. I have walked into the land of my Cornelius." I said that in April, and I have been searching ever since for that person. And then I met that boy that I mentioned last week. A boy that was "hungry". His name is Dome. Last week, as you remember, he told us in that Tuesday lesson that he didn't want to get baptized because he knew he couldn't quit smoking. The next day he woke up without any desire to smoke and has never smoked since. Now it's the next Tuesday and President Senior and Sister Senior themselves are here in Ubon. Dome is waiting for his appointment right after a way fun English class we had had at the church that evening. No rush, no hurry. He moseys around until we're ready for him. What's this? Sister Senior wants to help us teach him? By all means. So here we are, in a circle with us two missionaries, my mission president's wife, and two recent converts. He lays out his concerns and says that he's not ready but he believes in God with all confidence... just does not believe in himself. In this lesson, the spirit runs strong, bright and powerful. It is so strong that Sister Senior testifies in english, and by the power and translative native of the Holy Ghost, Dome understands everything she says and responds in english back without even noticing a change. He comes to himself and realizes this has just happened and his smile is disbelieving. The spirit was so strong that you could literally reach out and touch it in the air. It was tangible. It was real. It testified of the truthfulness of what we were saying. He concluded that day that he needed just a tiny bit more time. He said, "Can I be baptized next month?" to which we told him we would do all we could to get him ready. We close with a prayer and as we are leaving the room, Sister Film (a sweet girl who was just baptized  and confirmed the week before) touches Sister Jackson's arm and then, in an unsuccessful effort to control her emotion, begins to weep into her shoulder. I turn and see this scene and ask what on earth could be wrong! After subsequent tear wiping and still no control, she explains that she doesn't know why. She just felt so good. It was a defining moment in her conversion to the gospel. The Holy Ghost had testified not only to this young man Brother Dome, but to this recent convert. And as President James E. Faust once said, "The Holy Ghost bears witness of the truth and impresses upon the soul the reality of God the Father and the Son Jesus Christ so deeply that no earthly power or authority [could] separate [her] from that knowledge.” Dome took his conversion into his own hands and we spent each night studying the scriptures for himself doubled with prayer. He testified to us that he knew it was true. It turns out, that as Preach My Gospel has always taught, this principle is correct: "… The only problem the objector has to resolve for himself is whether the Book of Mormon is true." And everything else will be proven true by it's evidence. It was enough for him. And it has become everything to him. Yesterday at church he announced in priesthood that he would be baptized next Sunday. Not in 2-3 months, not next month, but next week. The spirit's converting power is the true teacher. On Sunday he asked Sister Film and I how much it would cost for him to be a missionary. Read that statement again until you understand it. Now you know what the cost and reward has been for me. In this land, Cornelius was found. Love, Sister Painter

Move to: Drafts Sent Mail Spam Trash [New Folder]

"I'm hungry!"

Dear Family and Friends,

This week can only be described as miraculous. I just love, love, love the people we're teaching because they are elect. Their spirits are just elect.

Gade was baptized yesterday after first teaching her last week on a friday. AKA, that baptism took place within 9 days of our first sit-down lesson. Just try to convince me that this "hastening" of the work isn't real. D&C 88 says it perfectly, and I have witnessed it: "I will hasten my work in it's time."

Let me just tell you a story about a boy named Dome.

He's 19 years ago, very quiet, isn't an eloquent speaker, but knows when something is sacred. His confidence isn't high and his grades aren't supreme. He thinks hard about what he's taught but it doesn't make a lot of sense. This week on a tuesday evening, we sat down for a second lesson. He came into the lesson telling us, "I'm not ready and don't know if I want to change my religion. And besides that, I can't stop smoking, that's for sure. It's impossible." We taught the restoration of the gospel and testified with all our hearts and many scriptures that God could help him quit smoking and be a witness to him that this was all true, what we had taught.

By the end, I asked, "How do you feel right now?" because the spirit was so strong. In his sincerity but misunderstanding, he replied, "I'm hungry." I laughed and sort of rolled my eyes and we testified one more time and committed him to pray that night about all of it and to read in that Book of Mormon he's got.

I look back and think to myself, knowing what I do about Dome today, that it was I that misunderstood his answer.

Yesterday, we had another sit down lesson, requested by him. He came up to me after his second day at church and seeing a baptism and said, "Sister, I want to know the commandments so I can know where I stand and what I need to do." This time I was on splits and it was just Sister Film and I teaching him. She had been with us that tuesday night that I had described to my district leader as, "A bad lesson" because of how I thought he had taken the message.

I sat with him yesterday. Found out he had been praying and reading, he added his own name to the Book of Mormon chart and as he said the opening prayer, his prayer of "Help the weather to not be hot- Amen" had expanded and grown to a very deep soul-search. Not eloquent or decorated, but straight-forward, "Is this true what they're telling me?"

He told us in that lesson that he knew God was real. He knew for himself. He told us that that Tuesday evening he smoked the rest of his cigarettes that he had in his possession, and prayed before he went to sleep that God would help him quit.

Dome woke up that next morning, and in his words, "Usually, I would smoke 20 sticks in a day. Since last time I went to church, I had cut it to 10 sticks a day. But that Wednesday morning, I woke up, and when I would usually light up, I woke up to find I didn't want to smoke."

"Sister, I haven't smoked for 5 days. Since that day you made me pray, I haven't smoked a single cigarette."

I realize now that despite him answering my spiritual question with, "I'm hungry", it was actually a defining answer. His spirit was hungry.

This unlearned boy, raised in an school of poor-test-takers and those that have simply been raised in a environment of low-opportunity, has found a safe haven within the church. He shows up to church clean, tidy, necktie, white shirt. He knows the influences there are only good.

He comes to church.... hungry.

Love,

Sister Painter
 I went to an elephant farm and my new favorite animal is big, wrinkly, and squishy!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! Presents from my family which I chose myself.