Dear Liam,
Thank you for your help this weekend working on the fence. It might have felt odd, having to help out with a chore like that while you’re on your mission. After all, missionaries who leave home don’t have to worry about lawns, or sagging fences, or whatever other sundry chores Mom and Dad might have had them doing at home before they left. (Those poor squirrels, though. We’ve destroyed their dog-safe highway across the backyard. I watched one on the fence Sunday night as he got to the end and saw no fence to walk on, with Daisy running tight little circles on the ground right nearby. So he had to jump into the tree, probably taking our names in vain.)
But I remember doing lots of things like that in France. In Perigueux, my first area, we spent a good portion of a rather chilly day cleaning terra cotta roof tiles for a family who was adding a room onto their house. They were an interesting trio. Dad was a member of the branch there and led the choir. He loved singing, and was the one to take us to the local Catholic church for Midnight Mass and other events where singing was involved, because he loved to hear it all. Mom was not a member, but attended church more faithfully than did the branch president. Both of their cared for their little toddler, whom they loved very much. Spending time with them, scrubbing dirt and algae off those tiles while wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing with cold water, was one of the highlights of the first five months of my mission. I often wonder if Dad still goes to church, if Mom ever joined, and what their little boy is doing now. So maybe it felt like a chore working with me on that fence. But if you look at the time you have on your mission serving others as time to get to know them and learn to love them as the Savior would have you love them, your time will be better spent.
I also enjoyed going to the temple with you on Friday, even though I flopped like a dead fish in the parking lot. I knew going into the building that I had a little bit of parking lot dirt on my left knee, but I wasn’t too concerned. If the guy at the desk noticed anything, he didn’t say a word. All that mattered was that I was there, I had a valid temple recommend, and the Lord wanted me there, despite the tumble in the parking lot. As I was in the locker room changing clothes, I noticed I had a bit more filth on both knees than I thought initially. And it struck me that even though form the knees down I looked like a street bum, it didn’t matter. I was worthy in the eyes of the Lord. Staying worthy is important.
So is making sure you stay healthy. Part of the reason I flopped over in the parking lot is that I’m not in the best shape. I’m tubby and need to exercise more. That would help fix some of the underlying problems, high blood pressure being one of them. So as you serve your mission, look for ways to exercise. You don’t have to do drastic things – running mile after mile – but finding time to get up and walk for a bit, even for ten-minute stretches at a time – will help you a lot. I know on the days I get out more and get exercise, I feel better. Although I did walk a couple of miles on Friday, before The Floppening . . .
I’m also excited you got your last palm and merit badge from Brother Sewell. Not everything we do in life will come with such visible rewards, but it is nice to get the recognition once in a while. You’ll soon see yourself on a plaque at the church, and on the map at the stake center, indicating you’re serving a mission. That plaque will be a fun memento of your missionary years, but I guarantee the things you’ll cherish most are the memories you gather, and the more you write them down, the more you’ll remember them.
They don’t have to be momentous, exciting things. They could be as mundane as helping Dad take a fence down an occasionally giggling because he’s bending over and you can see his butt.
Love,
Dad
