Intro? There’s not time for an intro! We have to get moving, now!
I will categorize all that I have to fit in. This is done in order to streamline this process, because it’s gonna be huge!
Things of minimal importance, but still worthy of note:
I found out this really cool way to get this new style of garments, and you don’t even have to go to the distribution center. All you have to do is come here to Aranjuez, throw your garments into the wash, and then accidentally throw a white shirt with a big red print in. It is really cool. They come out in this beautiful, pink hue. I often feel like a flower. A pretty, pink one.
Jason. I heard some songs that I think you will love. They are by Shawn Mcdonald called “take my hand” and “all I need.” You should listen to them, get pumped, and use the extra energy you receive to maybe put them, and others similar to them, on a cd and send them my way.
Karston. Last week I was over at a house teaching this family and something notable happened. We were chatting with the 25ish year old and then I noticed his shirt was a capoeira championships of brazil shirt. Of course we got onto the topic immediately. He then flew out of the room and came back carrying a Berimbou. He let me play it. He said I am horrible. I thought I sounded nice. While I was serenading my companion to some PARANAWEH he slipped silently out of the room and returned with a memory card, which I slipped stealthily into the dvd player. He had downloaded home videos of the street performers in Bahia onto this very memory card. They were awesome. I think they gave me whiplash, you know, from not watching them…
Aaron. I went on exchanges last week with a missionary from Arizona named Elder Hinton. It turns out his brother is the bass singer for Inside-out. I got all the inside scoop, and some free cds. Very successful exchange.
Graham. I want you to know we had our first Zone Conference with the new president and one of the most amazing things happened. He actually fed us during the designated lunch time. Potato bar, very delicious. Much better then the previous roll and apple. I am not sure what this has to do with you, but I figured it has been a while since a made a shout out. Consider this yours.
Mom. I am good on cytolize and down to 2 jars of peanut butter. I have been rationing it all pretty well. As for the magic tricks, I am not really sure how you expect me to see the video, but cute idea. Maybe just explanations or something of really easy tricks with coins, strings, etc.
Tara. It’s a boy. I was really going to guess that, but mom spoiled it.
Everyone. Wait, mom first. I love the idea with the guitar. I talked to president about it and he loved it. He asked me to write up ideas and a game plan for it. Now to everyone. I want more ideas. Ideas of things that we could do to get people involved in classes or anything of the sort. For example: there is an elder in Madrid who is ranked in Europe for martial arts and is teaching self defense. Some sisters are teaching American dance classes and cooking classes. President is really cool with just about anything. Consider me, my talents, and what would be fun. I need your creative juices. Ready, set, go.
As for your question about what the leadership thought of my translating… I think they have given up on me. Whenever I do anything they just laugh and shake their heads and say, “of course.” In fact, I think they may have even taken to heart the phrase “if you can’t beat them, join them.” They do smile more because of it, but that bring me to another category…
Things of maximum importance, so good I suggest you restrain from blinking the entire time:
I got a call that I was to report to transfers but that my companion would be coming in the day after, so I would have to stay with another missionary for the night. I got to stay with Elder Read which was way fun reminiscing of the old days. Well, turns out they want more little Elder Carrs running around, because he is hot off the press. His name is Elder Driggs from Provo, Utah. He is so so so sweet and almost as green as I am. There was a total of 4 missionaries coming in this transfer from the MTC so all of us showed up together to the mission home yesterday. There we got some training, ate some killer burritos, and hung out. Funny moment real quick: I was talking to the new missionaries about the rap guitar cd I want to come out with, and giving them samples from said cd, when Presidents daughter showed up. She flew in Monday and was super jet lagged still. She is about 18 and very tired, well, that is all I found out about her. She walked past and into another room and Hermana Watkinds said, “well there’s Emma, you can get to know her later.” This was said in general to everyone in the room, but of course, I figured it was directed at me, just like everything else. I responded at a high volume level (so they say) “are you taking crazy pills? I don’t know how to talk to teenage girls anymore!” She laughed and said, “Its okay Elder Carr, she will be good practice.” Naturally, I assume the worst. I now have free reign to flirt it up with the president’s daughter. So back to the main agenda, we continued on with everything smoothly. We got to the end, which is when they announce the companionships. I got up, told everyone about how sweet the area none of them have ever heard about is, and them jumped up and down screaming when they told me I got the Driggster… the Driggster, I have never thought of that before. I wonder what he thinks of it. Let me ask him really quick….
He likes it too.
Now, for the other happenings that were lost in the terrible misfortunes of last week.
Michael’s baptism was planned for 1 on Saturday. We got there bright and early that morning to set up the font. Everything was going smoothly until the font was full. When it was at full capacity, we found a small hole in the back. No problem, I took my finger and saved the day. I called Elder Castro over to come help. Sadly, just as I was calling him is when the added pressure of my finger caused the font, which neither of us had ever set up anymore, to realize it was tire of holding up all that water with its un-tightened metal joints. So it fell. Luckily, with my free, un-wedged fingered hand I was able to reach up and catch it, while at the same time letting out a earsplitting scream. The scream was enough to get Elder Castro to come and see what was happening, and to get a member to run back to see what had happened to his daughter… she wasn’t there. It was me. They helped me hoist it back up and into place and all was good. Well, good for about 30 more minutes. By the time it was about 1230 we decided in would be good to call Michael. We called him up to see where he was and he said that he hadn’t left yet. That was bad. Then we told him to hurry and he said that his father had forbidden him from going. That was worse. We told him to stay put and that we would be over immediately. We grabbed a member and he took us to the outlying pueblo and dropped us off at the door. I rang up to his apartment, but the dad wouldn’t let us come up. Finally, I asked him to just meet us in the stairwell, and he agreed. As soon as he saw us he started yelling. He yelled that we didn’t know what baptism was, that his son was in no way ready, and that he would never be baptized. Then, because the volume levels weren’t high enough, the wife decided to join in to reach the desired levels. We tired everything we could. On the way over I had offered a prayer in my heart telling God that I would do everything I could, but I knew if would never work if He left it up to me. We tried to explain to him what was going on, telling him that we loved his son and just wanted to help, but he didn’t want to hear it. Finally, I just told him not to worry, the baptism was off. We would not be baptizing is son, but at the very least he could do is to let his son come and bare his testimony so he could know that he had learned something. He told us that he did not want to hear the words from the sweet tongue of a babe. I felt lost. I had tried everything I could. He just kept yelling and nothing would calm him down. We told him we would go but asked to talk to Michael before we left. Michael came out and Elder Castro told him not to worry, we would always be here for him no matter what. I was so confused. I had felt peace when we were going over, but this was not what God wanted to happen, I just knew it. As we were about to leave I looked at the father with such mixed emotions. I felt like punching in the head, but I was also grateful that he loved his son enough to try to fight for what he thought was right. I thanked him for it and then immediately felt very strongly that the least we could do is pray with them as a family before we go. It was weird, I couldn’t think of anything else. I asked him if we could pray with him, and he agreed. I asked if we could go inside, he said that was okay. I asked if we could kneel, he agreed. I asked if I could say the prayer, and he said that would be fine. After we prayed with them Michael was crying because he really wanted to be baptized. The mother then looked up at her husband and said something in Ebo (their language). Then she said it again. He argued a bit, but she said it again. He looked over at Michael and told him that when the time came to stand up for God you will not cry, go, get ready quickly, you are going to get baptized. He left and the mother asked us if she could come. All of us cruised over to the church an hour and a half late. Luckily the members were all there still and ready to get things started. Everything went perfectly. At the end I thanked Michael’s mother and she said to thank god. She said that God touched her heart during the prayer and she knew that her son needed to be baptized. She didn’t understand why until she was there. She has now been coming to church and has loved it.
I am sorry, but I am well out of time.
Hugs and kisses,
Elder Anthony Sky
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
currently writing on a keyboard with no letters...
Date: Wed, 12 Aug 2009
Big week this week. I mean, we are talking big, sweaty Romanian big. I say this because there is one sweating next to me. He is big. Like this week. This week was big.
I think to properly express the enormity of this week, I will be starting a new segment. The following will be called: frolicking through the happy thoughts of my daily planner.
There is this thing we do in this mission at the end of everyday that has allowed this segment to take life. After a long day of working we put down numbers and choose a happy thought, usually just little funny things that happen. I, however, have fallen behind a bit in my journal writing. So, at the end of every day, I write down my happy thought which is usually a happy paragraph. As you may have deducted, this has now become my journal… at least until I get caught up… maybe on the plane ride home.
Let’s frolic.
Wednesday night we bought a basketball to celebrate the rebirth of the sports rule.
Thursday we played with said basketball during morning exercises. We rode extra buses to get around due to the fact that I have not played sports for almost a year, which makes pulling every muscle in the body very likely, which I did. When we taught Michael we asked him what he was planning on doing for the night. He said, “Watching kite rider of course.” Elder Castro said, “Cool, what’s that?” He answered, “You know, the show with the really cool car that drives around and saves people. Elder Castro responded, “Oh, you mean knight rider.” Michael then proved him clearly wrong by adding, “No, kite rider, the one with the car. Look, it starts with a K.” Elder Castro was then forced to apologize for his ignorance of the obvious.
Friday: Elder Castro ate yogurt that smelled like a pretty girl.
Saturday we taught Olga Marzal, one of our epic referrals, and she was amazing. She was a referral from the Bilbao mission. Apparently she was making calls for work, entered the number in wrong, and ended up calling the missionaries. The church is true.
Sunday: Michael passed his baptismal interview!
Monday: Awesome. We went to Valdemoro, a pueblo that is about 30 minutes away by train, to teach a lesson. We got there and the second coming almost started. The craziest storm I have ever seen almost completely destroyed Valdemoro. Lightning was striking all over the place, the wind was wild, and the rain fell for a solid hour and a half. I knew that if I died mom would make dad resurrect me so that she could kill me again for having the nerve to die, so I decided we would wait it out by watching the testaments (the storm was very similar to the storm in the testaments after the crucifixion, ironic). The movie ended, as well as most of the storm, so we headed out. It was pretty late so we went to the bus stop right around the corner and right as we got there a bus pulled up. Not a normal bus, though. We were waiting for the #7 which is a normal city bus. What came was a huge cross country bus with a piece of paper taped on to it that said #7. Peculiar. The driver, which was a 30ish year old Spaniard asked us where we were going. We told him the train station and he said in essence, “Well, it may take us a while, but I will get you there, saddle up!” This was when it got cool. Apparently, the storm dominated the pueblo. Almost all the streets were closed because there were rivers and floods everywhere. All the other buses had stopped running because it was unsafe, but this driver wasn’t going to leave people out there on their own, so he took his bus, left his route, and went in search of people. There were about 5 people on the bus. One of them was some girl who was freaking out and calling her family to make sure everyone was okay and she was sitting at the front. We wanted a better view so we sat in the middle. We took a loop on the edge of the city to take one of the riders to his house when we passed a round about. On one end there was a really big puddle and something dark in the middle. When we got closer I realized the dark thing was the roof of a car that had sunk. Everyone was freaking out because there was no way to get through. The driver wasn’t about to let this beat him. He took his kind size bus and plowed it over the median, through some dudes lawn, and back around to the road. That was when the really loud, over dramatic girl got off. The bus driver then said, “Hey, you boys with the white shirts and name tags, come up here and talk to me.” We obeyed. He asked us, “Did you call your mission president to tell him you are going to be home late?” Then we asked him how he knew that, and he asked back, “how do you think?” My companion remembered that a member a couple weeks ago had told us he had a son that drove buses for Spain. He asked him, “maybe you are Leonardo’s son.” Then he said, “maybe.” So we said, “nice to meet you Mario.” We chatted for a bit while he was trying to find a path through the city, but everything was closed or flooded. He told us that he would need to take us out of the city, to the freeway, and then back in because it was probably the only way. Well, it worked. We got the train station, but there were even some trains that were flooded out. He parked his bus and came in with us to make sure we could catch a train. We asked around and found out there was one more train coming. He told us to get his number just in case it didn’t work out and he would take us home or let us sleep at his house. We then thanked him profusely, jumped the tracks because the tunnel was flooded, and caught the last train home. In my missionary opinion, it all worked out too perfectly for it not to have been an answer to one of mom’s prayers of protection.
Tuesday I got a call before zone conference started asking me if I would be willing to translate for the meeting. They had a big mike they gave me and all the natives wore headphones for the English to Spanish, and all the new missionaries wear them for the Spanish to English. Well, I don’t think they are ever going to ask me again. Apparently they didn’t expect me to sing the hymns into the mike, which I did. Then I got bored after a few minutes and started adding my own commentary and various accents to the missionaries. By the end there were a lot of missionaries wearing headphones. Probably a good thing the missionary leadership didn’t approve, translating is tiring. Sometimes it is hard to match the right accent to each individual missionary.
Well, there you have it.
My happy thoughts, with commentary done by me speaking like Walter Cronkite. Feel free to go back and read it again with that in mind.
Loves, hugs, and kisses for the girls,
Elder Anthony Skyler Carr
The Half-Blood Prince
Big week this week. I mean, we are talking big, sweaty Romanian big. I say this because there is one sweating next to me. He is big. Like this week. This week was big.
I think to properly express the enormity of this week, I will be starting a new segment. The following will be called: frolicking through the happy thoughts of my daily planner.
There is this thing we do in this mission at the end of everyday that has allowed this segment to take life. After a long day of working we put down numbers and choose a happy thought, usually just little funny things that happen. I, however, have fallen behind a bit in my journal writing. So, at the end of every day, I write down my happy thought which is usually a happy paragraph. As you may have deducted, this has now become my journal… at least until I get caught up… maybe on the plane ride home.
Let’s frolic.
Wednesday night we bought a basketball to celebrate the rebirth of the sports rule.
Thursday we played with said basketball during morning exercises. We rode extra buses to get around due to the fact that I have not played sports for almost a year, which makes pulling every muscle in the body very likely, which I did. When we taught Michael we asked him what he was planning on doing for the night. He said, “Watching kite rider of course.” Elder Castro said, “Cool, what’s that?” He answered, “You know, the show with the really cool car that drives around and saves people. Elder Castro responded, “Oh, you mean knight rider.” Michael then proved him clearly wrong by adding, “No, kite rider, the one with the car. Look, it starts with a K.” Elder Castro was then forced to apologize for his ignorance of the obvious.
Friday: Elder Castro ate yogurt that smelled like a pretty girl.
Saturday we taught Olga Marzal, one of our epic referrals, and she was amazing. She was a referral from the Bilbao mission. Apparently she was making calls for work, entered the number in wrong, and ended up calling the missionaries. The church is true.
Sunday: Michael passed his baptismal interview!
Monday: Awesome. We went to Valdemoro, a pueblo that is about 30 minutes away by train, to teach a lesson. We got there and the second coming almost started. The craziest storm I have ever seen almost completely destroyed Valdemoro. Lightning was striking all over the place, the wind was wild, and the rain fell for a solid hour and a half. I knew that if I died mom would make dad resurrect me so that she could kill me again for having the nerve to die, so I decided we would wait it out by watching the testaments (the storm was very similar to the storm in the testaments after the crucifixion, ironic). The movie ended, as well as most of the storm, so we headed out. It was pretty late so we went to the bus stop right around the corner and right as we got there a bus pulled up. Not a normal bus, though. We were waiting for the #7 which is a normal city bus. What came was a huge cross country bus with a piece of paper taped on to it that said #7. Peculiar. The driver, which was a 30ish year old Spaniard asked us where we were going. We told him the train station and he said in essence, “Well, it may take us a while, but I will get you there, saddle up!” This was when it got cool. Apparently, the storm dominated the pueblo. Almost all the streets were closed because there were rivers and floods everywhere. All the other buses had stopped running because it was unsafe, but this driver wasn’t going to leave people out there on their own, so he took his bus, left his route, and went in search of people. There were about 5 people on the bus. One of them was some girl who was freaking out and calling her family to make sure everyone was okay and she was sitting at the front. We wanted a better view so we sat in the middle. We took a loop on the edge of the city to take one of the riders to his house when we passed a round about. On one end there was a really big puddle and something dark in the middle. When we got closer I realized the dark thing was the roof of a car that had sunk. Everyone was freaking out because there was no way to get through. The driver wasn’t about to let this beat him. He took his kind size bus and plowed it over the median, through some dudes lawn, and back around to the road. That was when the really loud, over dramatic girl got off. The bus driver then said, “Hey, you boys with the white shirts and name tags, come up here and talk to me.” We obeyed. He asked us, “Did you call your mission president to tell him you are going to be home late?” Then we asked him how he knew that, and he asked back, “how do you think?” My companion remembered that a member a couple weeks ago had told us he had a son that drove buses for Spain. He asked him, “maybe you are Leonardo’s son.” Then he said, “maybe.” So we said, “nice to meet you Mario.” We chatted for a bit while he was trying to find a path through the city, but everything was closed or flooded. He told us that he would need to take us out of the city, to the freeway, and then back in because it was probably the only way. Well, it worked. We got the train station, but there were even some trains that were flooded out. He parked his bus and came in with us to make sure we could catch a train. We asked around and found out there was one more train coming. He told us to get his number just in case it didn’t work out and he would take us home or let us sleep at his house. We then thanked him profusely, jumped the tracks because the tunnel was flooded, and caught the last train home. In my missionary opinion, it all worked out too perfectly for it not to have been an answer to one of mom’s prayers of protection.
Tuesday I got a call before zone conference started asking me if I would be willing to translate for the meeting. They had a big mike they gave me and all the natives wore headphones for the English to Spanish, and all the new missionaries wear them for the Spanish to English. Well, I don’t think they are ever going to ask me again. Apparently they didn’t expect me to sing the hymns into the mike, which I did. Then I got bored after a few minutes and started adding my own commentary and various accents to the missionaries. By the end there were a lot of missionaries wearing headphones. Probably a good thing the missionary leadership didn’t approve, translating is tiring. Sometimes it is hard to match the right accent to each individual missionary.
Well, there you have it.
My happy thoughts, with commentary done by me speaking like Walter Cronkite. Feel free to go back and read it again with that in mind.
Loves, hugs, and kisses for the girls,
Elder Anthony Skyler Carr
The Half-Blood Prince
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
keep on rollin'
This week has been wicked climax. Wicked, I say. Well, before I get into that, I will sweep the weekly business out of the way.
I heard wind of a blog all for me… I like it. I do not understand why more of you have not had this desire, but, Susan, you always pull through for me. (This is Susan, since I am posting this, I must interject and say that the blog was Tara's idea. I just helped make it.) According to the natives here, you are the celebrity that was photo shopped into my picture book… something I have yet to deny… I’m not even sure about it… alright… I’m done abusing the dot dot dot… oops, that one slipped.
Okay, so that is all I can remember, I am sure there is more, but all the Elders that are here are already talking about the big news and I cant think of anything else. WE GÖT SPORTS BACK! Alright, I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. You can just let the enormity of that sink in while I do the lead in.
So Sunday was fast Sunday as I am sure you all recall. Michael was in the meeting so we explained what it was and told him that people who want to share their testimonies can get up and share them. The meeting then began to roll and things when incredibly smoothly. Some good testimonies, a complainemony here and there, your usual miracle story that happened 30 years ago but is still good, and of course, what I like to call, the weekly agenda. All in all, nothing too radical. Then it happened. Michael got up and went to the stand. He turned, and pretty much just let Heavenly Father play puppet with him because he blew everyone away. After he came up to me and apologized which was preposterous. He actually had the nerve to admit his wrong. He said Heavenly Father told him to go share his little testimony, even though it wasn’t much, but Michael felt bad because he said he should have gone first. He should have. We were very disappointed. We expect a lot more out of the elect. Especially those who have never even seen a testimony meeting. Tisk tisk tisk. That day went smoothly. Monday we received 4 referrals. That was a huge deal because that never happens. At this point my bubble levels had reached about a 6, what with the ever-approaching baptism and all. Tuesday we got a CD from a member by a group called TOA. I think the album is called silence. Jason, you might wanna check it out, super sweet. Imagine boys 2 men meets reggae Polynesian hymnal. After this we met with Michael and we helped him pick a member that he wanted to baptize him. He picked Amador, a semi-recent convert who freaked out when we asked him if he would. He freaked out, which made us freak out. Bubble levels had now easily reached a low 8. Then the call came. We were taking care of the interview details and amidst the chaos came the light. The call that sports are back. A moment of silence please…. Yeah right! HAH! I cant stop singing. Bubble levels then surpassed measurable limits.
Well, sorry, this one is not too long. We are in sol right now just cruising around and we got a bit more cruising to do, as you can imagine.
Michael is still cruising for the 15th and all is going well.
Loves, Elder Anthony Sky
I heard wind of a blog all for me… I like it. I do not understand why more of you have not had this desire, but, Susan, you always pull through for me. (This is Susan, since I am posting this, I must interject and say that the blog was Tara's idea. I just helped make it.) According to the natives here, you are the celebrity that was photo shopped into my picture book… something I have yet to deny… I’m not even sure about it… alright… I’m done abusing the dot dot dot… oops, that one slipped.
Okay, so that is all I can remember, I am sure there is more, but all the Elders that are here are already talking about the big news and I cant think of anything else. WE GÖT SPORTS BACK! Alright, I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. You can just let the enormity of that sink in while I do the lead in.
So Sunday was fast Sunday as I am sure you all recall. Michael was in the meeting so we explained what it was and told him that people who want to share their testimonies can get up and share them. The meeting then began to roll and things when incredibly smoothly. Some good testimonies, a complainemony here and there, your usual miracle story that happened 30 years ago but is still good, and of course, what I like to call, the weekly agenda. All in all, nothing too radical. Then it happened. Michael got up and went to the stand. He turned, and pretty much just let Heavenly Father play puppet with him because he blew everyone away. After he came up to me and apologized which was preposterous. He actually had the nerve to admit his wrong. He said Heavenly Father told him to go share his little testimony, even though it wasn’t much, but Michael felt bad because he said he should have gone first. He should have. We were very disappointed. We expect a lot more out of the elect. Especially those who have never even seen a testimony meeting. Tisk tisk tisk. That day went smoothly. Monday we received 4 referrals. That was a huge deal because that never happens. At this point my bubble levels had reached about a 6, what with the ever-approaching baptism and all. Tuesday we got a CD from a member by a group called TOA. I think the album is called silence. Jason, you might wanna check it out, super sweet. Imagine boys 2 men meets reggae Polynesian hymnal. After this we met with Michael and we helped him pick a member that he wanted to baptize him. He picked Amador, a semi-recent convert who freaked out when we asked him if he would. He freaked out, which made us freak out. Bubble levels had now easily reached a low 8. Then the call came. We were taking care of the interview details and amidst the chaos came the light. The call that sports are back. A moment of silence please…. Yeah right! HAH! I cant stop singing. Bubble levels then surpassed measurable limits.
Well, sorry, this one is not too long. We are in sol right now just cruising around and we got a bit more cruising to do, as you can imagine.
Michael is still cruising for the 15th and all is going well.
Loves, Elder Anthony Sky
just in case
July 30, 2009
Hi everyone, mainly mom, it’s me, skyler,
Due to technical difficulties I was unable to email yesterday. I have no idea why, but every single church website was down. nothing was working. I tried to hop on my google so I could write you a sentence saying all was good, but the spirit gave me a stupor of thought on what my password was for my sinful ways.... I didnt really care, I figured a mothers joy was more important than what email engine we use...
So here I am. This works because today is planning day. Planning day works because i hate planning. So, we streamline it and are super efficient and finish the 3 hours in about 35 min. Now we have all sorts of free time on our hands. You’re welcome.
Now, for my list of demands. Jason, listen up (or open your eyes really wide if you are reading this), this one is for you. You are the only one in the family that mom and dad could afford to enlist in Hogwarts: school of witchcraft and wizardry. Could you look back on you magical education and send me a few very simple magic tricks I could use to impress the natives? President says he wants me to be creative, so I’m gonna run with it.
Now to mom. The picture can be any size. Whatever is easiest to send and would still be easy for me to travel with. Nothing bigger than bum’s. Also, the pictures you took at powell, I think the easiest way would be to just print them off at Costco. Don’t be afraid to print all of them. This allows me to reminisce over and over again on my own time. Those are my thoughts on the subject.
I think you would be interested to know what President Watkins has already done in his first month as the reigning force. Well, he is really taking the focus off of everything we have done. The focus before was all on street contacts. I enjoy them, but they never work with the Spaniards. The mission was very much a south American oriented mission, which is hard, because there are really not very many, and the ones that are here are really only here to work. P. Watkins has made everyone start searching for ways to get creative. Simple things like having family nights with the members outside in the middle of the parks. Things to get publicity going because there is absolutely nothing going on at the moment. It is super weird talking to people everyday that have no idea who we are. He also got pretty fed up with people calling him for permission to do service, which was the old rule, so that is no longer in existence. I have so far been very content with everything.
Michael is still progressing really nicely towards his baptismal date. He has now gotten to the point that he will not allow us to pray because he wants to say both the opening and the closing prayer. No complaints. His prayers rock. For example:“Oh fadda, king of glory, we raiss ower voices to dee in dee name of da fadda, and of dee sun, and of dee oly ghoost. Fill our bohdies, oh Lode, fill our bohdies wit dye puhfect wuhrd. Let dye gloree rest oopun us, oh Lode. Guide our lives dat we mey consume dee evils of dee world wit ower pehsonaal rightcheousness. In dye suns oly neme, even Jesus Christ, amen.”That’s just a sample.
Well, time is spent once again. Thank you for commemorating my day of birth in such an appropriate way.
Love you bunches,Elder Anthony Sky
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