- Perhaps the sweetest moments in life is coming to yourself. Attending the temple is a special privilege in which I have had the opportunity to come to myself many times. Taking time in the presence of God to see my life through heavens eyes and renew my convictions to perfect myself. All my life I have lived near a temple. From 5-20 minutes away. Here in Querétaro the nearest temple is in Mexico City which is closed at the moment so now it is in Guadalajara. I had the opportunity to join the members here to the Guadalajara temple, a 5 hour bus trip. We left Friday at midnight after a Young adult dance. On the bus I met more single adults. Every time I introduce myself as Nephi I receive looks of conformation, " Really? but you are American." Then I always proceed to explain that in Mexico Jesse is a girl's name, they think for a moment, then concur, "that is true, Nephi is better."
Busses and planes are my enemy when it comes to sleeping. Hopeless and uncomfortable I read my book until my eyes hurt from the bright reading light. As I read I listen to the other young people talk about the scriptures and doctrines behind me. I love listening to people share their experiences and teach each other. Before I knew it I was throwing in my two cents also and engaging in the conversation. I then met Edgar, who was sharing his thoughts and discoveries with everyone. His knowledge of the Bible and Book of Mormon was immense. I shared my spiritual discoveries and experiences learning about other faiths that reinforced my own, but at the end of the night as everyone retired the conversation and drifted into the streaming lights outside the window I was alone again and I realized I need to reform my studies of the scriptures. I had more of a desire to know the mysteries of God.
Arriving to the Temple was like waking the dead. Everyone slowly became reanimated reaching for their bags and waking their spouses and children. Edgar kindly gives us the run down on how this all works. Off the bus finally I feel like an elephant was standing on my back. I stand taking in the coolness of the morning enjoying the sweet sprinkles of rain on my face. I watch as all these people, get ready to enter the temple in minutes, line up in the entrance. You can see the youth and older generations with drowsiness still in their eyes, fight sleep as they are eager to enter the House of the Lord.
I volunteered to work in confirmations for the dead. I was so tired that I almost fell asleep a few times in a few confirmations. Edgar and Grayson noticed and offered to switch roles. I went through names while they did the ordinance. I observed all the youth that came in ready to serve their ancestors. The door would open occasionally and on the bench in the hall the youth would be asleep, leaning on each other, but, when that door opened they got right up, excited to serve. I was taken to the back of the deepest room in my heart to ponder,
"These are real pioneers, real Saints, who make pilgrimage every month to the House of their Lord. And I, a fool and slothful servant, fail to make that same pilgrimage, when The House of my Lord, my God... is across the street....."
- On the ride home I finally doze for a half hour or so. I wake up to the beautiful landscape outside the window! I wanted the bus to break down, just so I had an excuse to go explore the green painted cliffs and majestic fields. After a few movies all the young adults were awake and we joked with each other laughing and teasing. I understand almost everything but there are many times when all I can do is laugh too, I maybe don't get the joke, but happy people make my want to smile too. I may speak pretty good Spanish, but I still lack a lot, and I felt a new conviction to truly perfect my speaking ability.
As we laughed and joked I felt my attention pulled out the window as we passed small pueblos. They reminded me of my mission. I had potent flashbacks of my days walking in the pueblos sharing the message of the Restoration with everyone we could. I remember passing through dirts roads littered in rubble and dust. We would find people in the road or in their house going about their daily lives. Woman making tortillas in the streets, men in their fields cutting the milpa, and children playing fútbol in the streets with the hide of a soccer ball. We would ask to be apart of their lives for a moment and then invite them to listen to the message of Christ. I loved my mission.
After we came home Denisse and Juan invited us to tacos! there is nothing better than tacos!
They took us to the Cruz market which is a bunch of little food shops and trinket stations where locals gather to eat and buy the things they need for cheaper prices. I love the environment of the market as we order our tacos and gringas and watch a little of the soccer game, Mexico vs Chile.
Denisse loves all kinds of tacos and tells us about lengua(tounge), tripa(intestines), and Sesos(brains). She orders us a brains taco and me and Grayson split it..... for the experience at least. One, two, three and we slam the taco. As I chew the consistency of the brains almost gets me. It was like play doe/ butter/ sponge....... I count to three again in my head and swallow. . . thank goodness for salsa and onion to help over the taste. I was victorious!!! I ATE BRAiNS! bucket list item for strange foods.
My pride quickly turns to one thought, "I better not get some freak disease...oh well"
As we leave Juan quickly pays for everyone, right as I was reaching for my money.
When friends pay for me, I always feel so small and grateful. Im always taken back to the thought,
"How great is the grace of God to always lead me to the best of people...."
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